Archive of Our Own ^beta

Andrew ties off his boot laces and stands, impatiently waiting for Neil to emerge from their bedroom.

His latest gift bag sits on the counter, empty, as Neil obediently dons the clothes he’s picked out. It always makes Andrew’s ego swell healthily when he sees how good Neil looks in his outfit choices. He’s always had the right eye for it, but until Neil he’d never had the perfect canvas- though this perfect canvas is taking goddamn forever to put on some clothes.

“Almost done?” Andrew calls, annoyance bleeding into his voice. He taps his foot idly- but soon enough, Neil emerges, clad in his all-black club outfit. He’s got his heavy black boots on, along with new ripped pants and a just barely-cropped t-shirt (carefully selected by Andrew). His messy red hair and startlingly blue eyes complete the look, and he’s stupidly picture perfect like always. At first glance, Andrew is already speechless, and when Neil reaches to grab his jacket, a healthy sliver of scarred stomach peeking out, Andrew considers calling off the whole night in favor of staying in and making out until the sun rises.

Unfortunately, there’s two idiots in the hallway waiting on them to get to Columbia.

“Ready?” Neil slings his jacket over his shoulder without putting it on- if Andrew was the type he’d swoon at the sight. Before he can get too handsy, though, he busies himself grabbing his keys, and they head out into the hallway to meet Aaron and Nicky.

“Damn, took you guys long enou- hello, handsome!” Nicky flashes them an excited smile, and directs flirty finger guns at Neil. He’s wearing a shirt distinctly more cropped than Neil’s, and more colorful- an orange graphic tee from some band he and Erik had gone to see together, with matching glitter on his cheekbones. Next to him, Aaron looks out of place in a loose-fitting tee buttonup shirt and blue jeans.

“Let’s get going before I die of alcohol deprivation.” Aaron comments, looking bored, and nods at Nicky, who holds his hands out in a clamshell gesture to catch Andrew’s car keys. Instead of his ready hands, Andrew aims intentionally off-target and knocks them off Nicky’s forehead.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. Let’s go.” Andrew rushes past them all, Neil close behind him, and they make their way as a group into the elevators and down to the car. Nicky and Aaron take the front as Andrew and Neil pile into the back, leaving the middle seat vacant, and Nicky takes to the streets with all the finesse of an EMT heading to a massacre. He weaves through traffic and ignores red lights all the way to Columbia, slowing only when the sign for Eden’s Twilight reflects in the windshield.

Nicky tears into the parking lot, and everyone piles out and onto the sidewalk to let him park. The group waits for him as he searches the lot, eventually making his way around to the back to finally find a spot, and when he makes his return the four of them pass the bouncers with an easy nod and file into the club.

Andrew is glad they waited for Nicky when they get inside. It’s ridiculously packed- there must be an event going on or something, because the dance floor is fucking full to the brim with people clad in leather, or chains, or near nothing at all, and the lights and music are crazy intense. There’s a live performer in the corner, a girl with red hair and intense eyeliner, and the basslines rumble the entire club as she screams obscene lyrics in time with the rapidly flashing strobes. Andrew thinks he might recognize a couple of the lines.

“Fuck.” Andrew says, immediately cross. “Roland better be on duty or I’ll kill myself in front of everyone here.”

Neil takes his hand and squeezes. He remembers a second too late Neil’s distaste for his self-mutilating humor, and squeezes back in silent apology before redirecting his attention to the bar, thankfully spotting Roland within moments. It’s slammed, and Roland looks busy as all hell, but Andrew knows he always has a moment to spare for their lot. He strides confidently back to the bar, shoving between two patrons on barstools, and signals to Roland with a two-finger salute. Roland finishes up with the customer he’s helping, a blue-haired girl in a latex dress, and speeds over to Andrew, a strained smile plastered on his face.

“Hey!” Roland greets them, looking past Andrew at the entire group. “You guys just get here, or…”

“The fuck is going on tonight? It’s crazy in here.” Andrew says to him, loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Singles night.” Roland sighs. “Busy as shit- it’s been insanity. I can guarantee you drinks, but a table might be… off… the table.” He furrows his brow at himself before regaining his train of thought. He gives them a strange look as he says “How many of you tonight?”

“Fucking singles night.” Andrew shakes his head. “Four- and a couple extra waters. Put enough in mine to make me see stars.” Roland grins at him knowingly, earning a signature eye roll from Andrew before he gets to work. Andrew turns back to the group clustered behind him. “Nicky, go seduce someone into giving us their table.”

“On it!” Nicky gives him an enthusiastic wink and thumbs-up and slinks off into the crowd. Roland quickly returns with their tray of drinks, and Andrew takes it, expertly swinging it up over his shoulder as he surveys the dance floor in an attempt to spot Nicky in the crowd of gays. He manages to pick him out somehow, and starts over, holding the tray high (or as high as a guy Andrew’s height possibly can) and pushes his way through the crowd to the table Nicky’s stolen for them- only to stop short when he finally sees who Nicky’s decided to steal from.

Kevin Day is sitting at a booth alone, mouth open on an unspoken argument as Nicky tears him a new one. He’s got glitter on his cheeks, concealer over his tattoo, and his pink crop top is probably three sizes too small for him- Andrew suddenly remembers it’s a singles night at this gay bar, and Kevin is dressed for the occasion. He can’t hear anything Nicky is saying over the bass rumbling in his ribcage, but as he gets closer he strains to pick it up.

“...ucking stupid, man! You can’t just go to shit like this by yourself, it’s not safe-”

“Kevin?!” Aaron asks, incredulous. Nicky spins on his heel. Expression furious.

“Tell this dumbass you can’t go to clubs and get drunk alone when you’re as hot as he is. Not on fucking singles night-”

“What the fuck, Kevin?” Andrew cuts in. He keeps his extensive tabs on Kevin- he was supposed to be studying in the dorm tonight.

Kevin looks like he’s trying to figure out the least painful way to drop dead right now. But, he had a table, and if he’s here, at least Andrew can keep an eye on him- or make Aaron and Nicky do it, since he’s supposed to be having a good time with Neil tonight. Speaking of Neil- Andrew drops the drink tray onto the table and grabs his and Neil’s drinks off of it, turning to him. He offers it up in silence, and when Neil shakes his head, shrugs and chugs his own.

Nicky finishes chewing Kevin out, grabs his cup, and forces Aaron to sit so close to Kevin that his and Kevin’s thighs are pressed together before he huffs and storms off into the crowd to find himself a good time. Aaron grumbles at his newfound responsibility and takes his drink. Satisfied with Kevin’s appointed chaperone, Andrew takes a sip of Neil’s drink and sets it down on the table. He takes a deep breath and points an accusatory finger at Kevin.

“I’m not gonna ask why you’re here. I’m not stupid. But you need to be more fucking careful. Go dance, hook up, I don’t give a shit, just don’t leave the building, especially without Aaron. No funny business.” Andrew switches to glaring at his twin brother. “You keep an eye on him.”

Aaron slumps back in his seat and grumbles a reluctant agreement. Kevin still looks like he’s been caught with his dick out, but Andrew’s sure he’ll be fine with Aaron on his ass. Once he’s good and sure Aaron won’t leave Kevin’s side, he steels himself. This night has takes a billion crazy turns but he’s absolutely fucking determined to have a good night with Neil- as long as Aaron keeps his promise and Nicky stays out of the way (which, gay singles night, so he absolutely will), he and Neil can still make the most of it.

He takes Neil’s drink up off the tray and whirls around, grabbing Neil’s arm and dragging him to the dance floor before he even realizes they’re moving. The performer seems to have finished her set- in her place is a DJ booth, and the music has turned to something a little more fitting of late-night at a gay club, with lots of pounding synth and explicit lyrics. Andrew can work with this.

Neil looks at him like he’s lost, and Andrew rolls his eyes as he uses his free hand to guide Neil’s to his hip. He takes the hint- for once- and they start to dance, Andrew careful not to slosh his drink too much as he crowds into Neil. They’re both already flushed from the heat of the crowd, and the easy way Neil’s fingers slide on his hips doesn’t help him stay any cooler as a fire ignites in his stomach.

The bass vibrates the club in time to their rolling hips, and if Andrew spills a little of his drink he’s none the wiser as he focuses on the strip of skin that makes its appearance whenever Neil raises his arms. He reaches out to touch it at one point, fingers greedy for the tiny outcrop of hip bone he can feel before it disappears into the band of Neil’s boxers.

Neil watches him closely, moving to follow Andrew’s hand- the dance is easy when the music is so loud and everyone around them is so busy, and even though there’s so many people here Andrew and Neil are alone as they feel each other up on the dance floor. Andrew tips back the rest of the drink before tossing the crumpled cup over his shoulder and pressing his lips to Neil’s.

Neil still tastes like toothpaste, and Andrew finds it irritatingly charming as they keep kissing and dancing. The persistent taste of it reminds Andrew that Neil hasn’t had anything to drink since they left, and he’s probably already sweat 90% of his body weight out in this crowd. He pulls back just enough to ghost kisses across Neil’s cheekbone to his ear.

“You want a drink?” He asks, and Neils nods, wrapping his fingers around Andrew’s wandering hand and pulling them both out of the crowd and back to the bar. Neil lets him take the lead as he spots Roland, and Andrew orders a water and a set of shots for them. Roland quickly returns, drinks in tow. Andrew is forced to organize two shot glasses into a one-hand hold while the other takes the water, and turns back to Neil- but his back is turned, and there’s a random guy talking to him.

He’s dressed more conservatively than the rest of the Eden’s crowd- which isn’t saying much, considering he’s still got on a very-cropped crop top and pants far too tight to look good. He’s not ugly, or anything, but he’s standing and breathing and flirting with Neil and his eyes are definitely not on Neil’s face.

Andrew wants to rip his smile off his mouth.

Andrew isn’t a jealous boyfriend- but that’s only because he’s not very fond of the term ‘boyfriend’. Andrew is very jealous. Especially when it comes to Neil, who is stunning, and wearing the outfit Andrew picked out for him so of course he looks fucking good- but this guy is in his space and he’s smiling and saying something fucking stupid and his hands look like they’re seconds away from encroaching on Andrew’s territory.

Andrew glares. He hopes that his stare is burning holes in that horny asshole’s brain, and when he doesn’t budge, Andrew lets out a determined huff. He composes himself- and sidles up beside Neil and turns to give a wicked grin at the man paying Neil all this unwelcome attention.

“Neil.” Andrew says curtly. “Who’s this?”

Neil blinks. “Oh, this is-”

“I actually really don’t give a fuck. I got you a drink.” Andrew holds the cup of water up, but not yet in offering. His free hand snakes up Neil’s arm, intimate, but casual. Neil cocks his head at him like a confused puppy, and Andrew rolls his eyes, locking his gaze with the rando freak before making his next move.

He makes unflinching, violent eye contact with the stranger, and spits into the cup.

Bright blue eyes go wide as Andrew now offers Neil the drink. His lips part just barely in surprise, and a flush takes over his cheeks, making Andrew smile smugly while his eyes flit back and forth between Neil and the new guy. His nonverbal claim- this one’s mine- has the stranger waving an awkward goodbye and turning tail back into the crowd. Triumph blooms in Andrew’s chest, and he turns back to Neil- who’s lowering the cup from his lips.

Andrew raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question it when Neil goes red and refuses to meet his eyes, just hands him his shot before downing his own and dragging them both back onto the dance floor. Finally, every godforsaken obstacle is out of his way and he can have Neil to himself.

They make it somewhere deep in the crowd and Andrew turns to face Neil, eyes set on the grin slowly spreading across Neil’s face. His blue eyes look straight out of precious stones- though Andrew could pick them out of a lineup of the most beautiful stones on earth without a second’s hesitation. His red hair is cute ruffled from pushing through the crowd, but the scarred tissue stretching with his ever-menacing smile and his Exy-toned arms remind Andrew how strong he is. God, he’s attractive, and even better, he has no fucking clue. Idiot.

Andrew slides his fingers up Neil’s left arm, barely brushing his skin, tracing one of the thin white lines that run from his wrist to his shoulder. When he reaches the top, he slides his arm up until it’s resting lazily on Neil’s shoulder. He uses his free hand to direct Neil’s hands to his hips before bringing it up to mirror the other side until Neil’s neck is framed between his armband-clad forearms.

The song is fast- but Andrew doesn’t really care to keep up with whatever unhinged lyrics are bouncing off the club walls. He’s more focused on Neil, now that it’s finally, finally just the two of them. Neil’s eyes are stupid soft around the edges, and Andrew can tell he’s having some idiotic thoughts about how handsome he is or how much he loves him by the way Neil’s nose crinkles just so- it’s disgustingly adorable, cheesy as all hell.

Andrew leans in, watches Neil’s pupils swell as he twists his head until his lips are just barely brushing Neil’s ear, and says “Shut up.” Neil pulls back, comedic offense on his face.

“I didn’t even say anything!” He replies, loud enough to be heard over the music.

“You were thinking it.” Andrew says. Neil doesn’t deny it, and Andrew presses a kiss to his cheekbone before he ghosts back over his ear. He’s rewarded with a barely audible squeak from Neil- Andrew isn’t exactly shy about his and Neil’s relationship, but he’s certainly not one to initiate much more than kissing in public, especially when he knows Kevin or Nicky or Aaron could be anywhere in this club. Something has taken over him today, though- maybe it’s the thousand hurdles they’ve had to jump tonight just to get some alone time- and all he wants is to be as close to Neil as physically possible.

“Yes or no?” He whispers, and hears Neil swallow before replying.

“Yes.”

Andrew doesn’t hesitate. He presses open-mouthed kisses to the side of Neil’s neck before making his way to Neil’s mouth, and they’re making out on the dance floor like horny teenagers while eventgoers dance and grind on total strangers all around them. Andrew almost giggles into Neil’s mouth- these new meds are so weird, in the way they’re actually working- and he can feel Neil smile. His mouth is persistent, and Andrew is more than willing to oblige- he lets Neil’s tongue run over his bottom lip and dip between his teeth. His eyes flutter as he reciprocates Neil’s eager push, and between blurs of color he locks onto the same stupid rando that was hitting on Neil earlier. He guesses spitting into that cup earlier wasn’t enough.

Andrew seethes. The most he’s enjoyed himself all night and that fucking stranger has to butt in and ruin his whole buildup. He’s going to start ripping his hair out if one more thing happens during his night.

Neil breaks off, sensing Andrew’s sudden hesitance as always- though it’s likely more obvious in this case, since Andrew can practically feel waves of rage coming off of himself. “You okay?”

“Asshole is back.” Andrew grumbles. “What fucking now? He’s been staring at your ass while your tongue is literally in my mouth.” He trains his eyes on the intruder, who is not-so-subtly staring at Neil. “Get the fucking hint.”

Neil’s eyes glint. The mischief suddenly in them might be Andrew’s downfall.

He pokes the bear. “Maybe we need to be more obvious.”

“What, should I spit in your mouth this time?” Andrew raises a brow, and Neil shrugs despite the obvious blush tinting his cheeks at the reminder. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Maybe something a little more physical.” Neil takes one of Andrew’s arms from his shoulder and guides his fingers to his hip, and then back, until Andrew’s fingers are digging into the soft flesh of his ass. He keeps his grip loose, so Andrew can back out if he wants, but Andrew lets him direct, and he lets go once Andrew smirks and gives him a quick squeeze. He pretends to not notice the rando’s stare drop downwards and keeps his eyes on Neil as he leans in for another kiss.

They pick right back up where they left off, all tongues and panting breath and teeth on lips, and it’s hungry but painstakingly slow as Andrew tries his best not to grope Neil too explicitly in front of several hundred people. He doesn’t do the best job at holding himself back as his eyelids flit open and he spots the same idiot in the same spot, this time staring right back into Andrew’s eyes.

He gives up on restraint. His fingers squeeze as he uses the hand on Neil’s ass to drag their hips together in a slow rhythm, matching the upbeat club music, and his free hand snakes up to Neil’s throat. Neil’s hands obediently remain on Andrew’s hips, but his grip tightens just a bit as Andrew yanks him in impossibly closer and kisses him deeper.

He hopes to god none of their teammates are watching as he shoves his knee between Neil’s legs. Neil keens- and the stranger turns away like continuing to watch will make him physically sick. Andrew’s grin alerts Neil, who returns it full force, and the rando peels out into the crowd like he’s being chased. He would say something like thank fuck or good riddance, but with Neil’s tongue in his mouth and fingers squeezing Andrew’s hips like he’s trying to reign himself in Andrew’s more wanting to say something along the lines of let’s go home right now and break the bed.

Andrew lets his eyes close and mumbles into Neil’s mouth. “I know a backroom that locks.”

“Oh yeah?” Neil murmurs back between kisses. His breath hitches when Andrew’s thigh presses upward and Andrew moves to breathe into his neck.

“Yes or no?” His fingers slide easily up under the fabric of Neil’s shirt and trace the fragile skin at the band of his boxers, and he mouths at the scar on Neil’s jawline.

“Fuck, yes. Lead the way.” Neil nods. Andrew retracts his knee from between Neil’s legs- earning him a shuddering breath- and grabs his hand, leading him through the sweaty, undulating crowd and down a dark hallway near the bar where Andrew stops short at a heavy-looking door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. He releases Neil’s hand to dig in his pocket for his keyring, easily separating the one for Eden’s, and rushes to get the door open, yanking Neil in along with him-

And runs headfirst into a startled and kiss-drunk Kevin and Aaron.

The door closes behind Neil, painfully slowly, the noise of the club fading with it, until the lock clicks and the room is dead silent. It’s dark, except for a lamp on the desk just inside the room to their left- which is also currently occupied by Kevin, who is sitting on it as Aaron stands between his opened legs. His fingers are clutched in the fabric of Aaron’s shirt- which has, at some point, been unbuttoned down to his waist- and both of them are staring unblinking at Andrew and Neil as they stand hand in hand just inside the room.

Andrew thinks he might vomit when he spots Aaron’s hand firm and unmoving on the front of Kevin’s jeans.

Neil snorts, and opens his mouth to say something (no doubt shit-stirring) but Andrew shoves back past him and wrenches the door back open in order to quickly shove Neil back out into the club. The transition in volume is an assault on the senses- but Andrew’s got a one-track mind now. He absolutely will not let this stand. He’s hit wall after wall and continued to crash through them one after the other- and though they’ve progressed from drywall to fucking bricks, Andrew is going to take Neil through that goddamn wall and fuck his brains out behind it.

He turns back to Neil, who looks like he’s barely containing raucous laughter.

“Nope. Not a word. I don’t want to think about it.” Andrew covers Neil’s mouth with a firm hand. “We’re busy, remember?” HIs free hand feels lazily up Neil’s thigh, and the mirth in his eyes fades back to giddy lust. “They don’t exist. It’s just us.”

Neil swallows visibly, and nods. Andrew glances around the bar before his eyes land on the next best place.

“Bathroom?”

Neil huffs, blushing, and pulls Andrew’s hand off of his mouth. “I’m not fucking you in the gay club bathroom on singles night, it’s probably already taken by people with the same idea. You have the car key?”

Fucking finally. Andrew’s boxers are chafing in unsavory places. Wordlessly, he grabs Neil’s hand and leads him out into the night air, past the line of people waiting to get in and towards the parking lot. He hesitates, just briefly, when he smells someone’s fragrant cigarette smoke, and his fingers twitch with need- but he powers through, regaining his composure. Neil squeezes his hand, and Andrew knows not to look back or he’ll see that stupid proud face Neil makes when Andrew skips out on a cigarette now that he’s doing his best to quit.

They make it to the car quickly- and thankfully, it’s towards the windowless back of the club. There’s only a staff door on this side, and the cars are packed in and empty, giving them a guarded spot to enjoy themselves.

Neil giggles as Andrew opens one of the back doors for him and sits down, legs still dangling towards the pavement, and Andrew wastes no time. He surges inward to kiss him, and they pick up where they left off, the hurdles of the night forgotten as they pant into each other’s open mouths.

It’s hot and wanting and finally without distraction, and the pent-up energy of it is palpable. Andrew’s hands are desperate, in Neil’s hair and on his hips and shoulders until he’s pushing Neil further into the car, turning to sit properly in the middle seat, until Andrew straddles Neil’s hips and they get the car door closed. They’re back at it as soon as the lock clicks. It’s a small space, but Andrew is a small guy, and Neil is desperate, all tongue and shaking hips as he thrusts helplessly upwards, chasing Andrew through the fabric of jeans and boxers. The heat of it is already making Andrew sweat, and he painstakingly gets his boots and pants off, tossing them to the front seat, before settling back in the comfort of Neil’s lap in his t-shirt and black boxers.

When he turns back to Neil, he’s watching him with blown pupils, blue nearly swallowed up as he smiles that stupid admiring smile at Andrew.

“What are you looking at?” Andrew says, low, and shifts a little nervously in Neil’s gaze.

“God, you’re so handsome.” Neil replies, like he means it with every fiber of his being. Andrew scoffs, but he feels the heat creeping up his cheeks, especially when Neil leans in to mouth at his neck and grinds upwards. A cringeworthy noise rips out of Andrew’s throat as denim catches against thin black fabric and his dick gets its first attention all night.

Andrew pushes back down against him, breath hitching in his throat when Neil’s teeth just barely scrape at his jugular, and when Neil sucks at his neck, purpose clear, Andrew hisses.

“Shit.” Andrew shifts, and Neil pops off of his neck, leaving a darkened spot slick with his spit. He kisses it as Andrew moves himself to get off of Neil’s lap. “Take off your pants. And shirt.”

Neil practically jumps at the opportunity, and he obeys without a second thought, throwing his clothes after Andrew’s pants and settling back in his seat with an overeager look on his face. It’s adorable, as always, the way he drops everything to make Andrew happy- and it sends all Andrew’s blood down south as Neil looks at him with bedroom eyes- rather, car sex eyes. Even cuter, his restless hands fiddle with the hems on his own boxers, content to look instead of touch as Andrew slides back into his lap.

“Hands on my hips.” Andrew says, and Neil swallows as his fingers rise under the hem of Andrew’s shirt to brush his waistband and squeeze gently at the soft skin above it. He wets his lips with his tongue and lets his hands explore the small berth he’s been given, but he doesn’t let his gaze wander from Andrew’s. Something in Andrew ignites at that- that even as he lets Neil feel his fill, Neil wants to see him, to feel him.

Andrew plays into what he knows Neil likes. He lifts up, and drops down, and despite the fabric barriers and the lack of any physical friction Neil shudders with pleasure. His hips dart upwards, chasing stimulation he won’t get. Satisfaction courses through Andrew as he does it a second time, and Neil moans wantingly.

“Andrew…” He whines. “Shit.”

Andrew doesn’t respond. Instead, he splays out a hand over Neil’s scarred chest and does it again and again, relishing in the way slim fingers grip at his hip bones with desperate instinct. Neil’s breaths come heavier and heavier as Andrew continues, and he whimpers as Andrew presses into his chest, slowing, then stilling, and Neil whines.

Andrew lets his fingers trace over long-scarred ouches. His fingers find the bullet wound on Neil’s collarbone, the puckers of the iron burn on his shoulder, the two twin lines under his pecs- it’s so painfully Neil underneath his hands that any semblance of his trauma is assuaged under it.

Neil’s face is glittering as Andrew pulls back. He considers taking his shirt off, but decides against it, instead using Neil’s hand to bunch it up just below his chest so Neil can eye the trail of wispy hair that trails down below his boxers. It’s wordless but permissive, and Neil knows as his other hand strokes from Andrew’s sternum downward and ends with a snap of his boxer waistband against pale stomach. Andrew’s hands return to Neil’s hair, tugging lightly on auburn curls at the base of his neck.

“You’re pathetic.” Andrew says, as Neil’s eyes greedily rake over him.

“And you are so hot.” Neil grins, and Andrew rolls his eyes- and his hips again, to shut Neil up. It works in an instant, and Neil is whimpering again. Andrew grinds downwards, losing his composure and starting to pant.

“Neil-“ Andrew suppresses a groan when Neil’s tongue connects with his throat before his teeth do, and he sucks on the skin as Andrew’s hips twitch involuntarily. He lets Neil’s fingers dig into his hips as Neil sucks a series of bruises down his throat, and pulls down his shirt collar from the inside to lick over his collarbone, all the while continuing to fuck upwards and pull down on Andrew’s hips like if he tries hard enough his dick will appear.

Andrew pulls back, breathing hard, and Neil’s hips still. He glances over the rapidly developing trail of hickeys, satisfied with his handiwork, and looks to Andrew for direction.

It’s sweet, really, how easy he is to tease- give Neil an inch and he will kiss it and caress it and whine forever. Andrew could do that for hours, has before, until they’re both sweaty and wanting and pent-up enough that a strong breeze could finish them off.

But he has different plans for tonight. He’s in a great fucking mood now that they’re in the thick of it, after all their setbacks, and he is not one to let an opportunity like this pass him by when he could be walking side to side tomorrow of his own wonderful volition.

“You’re going to fuck me.”

Neil’s mouth opens, and closes, and opens again. “I would love to, but uh. I don’t quite have the equipment on me.”

Andrew rolls his eyes and gestures towards the center console, and Neil’s jaw drops. Not waiting to see how long it takes Neil to recover from his shock, Andrew twists uncomfortably and digs through the center console for the zipped-up black bag he knows is there.

“When did you put that in here?” Neil says, incredulous, but his question dies as Andrew unzips it and presents the insertable black strap- one of the matching two he’d purchased for Neil’s birthday, without really making Neil aware until they were in the heat of it. This one had never been utilized until now.

Andrew examines the dildo in his hands, listening to Neil’s slow breathing as he experimentally presses the button at the base of it and takes note of how Neil near-whines when the pad for the wearer’s pleasure buzzes to life.

“You were saying you would love to?” Andrew looks back at Neil, expression bored.

“Shit.” Neil hisses. Andrew can feel how hard he’s trying not to buck upwards. He switches the vibrator back off before placing it on the seat beside them.

“Lose the boxers.” Andrew says, lifting himself just enough to let Neil obey, the boxers soon forgotten on the car floor. Wordlessly, Andrew takes one of Neil’s hands and presses two of the fingers to Neil’s lips. He looks up at Andrew, eyes wide and understanding, as he opens his mouth and lets the fingers slide onto his tongue. Drool collects on his fingers as Neil works his mouth over them, hips still jerking with want underneath his partner. When Andrew is satisfied with his work, he pulls Neil’s hand away and releases it. Neil hovers it in the air above his stomach.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asks again, and puts his own hand on Neil’s cheek, his thumb on Neil’s lips.

“Yes.” Neil says, a little blocked by the finger dragging his bottom lip down but still so, so clear. Andrew leans forward to kiss him, his own stomach pressing Neil’s hand to his skin as it slides downwards between his own legs. He’s always so good. He knows what to do.

He moans, loud enough that Andrew has to shush him- they may be in a parking lot behind a club vibrating with deep bass, but they still have to attempt some sort of modesty.

“Shh.” Andrew pulls back and puts his free hand over Neil’s mouth. It has practically the opposite effect it should, but Andrew knows what Neil likes by now, and he’s expecting the muffled whimpers as Neil prepares himself. He lets his free hand move to Neil’s throat for a moment, and Neil gasps- but Andrew removes both hands from him before he can enjoy it too much. Neil’s other hand is still grasping at Andrew’s hip, trying his best to pull him ever closer. “You’ll wake the whole town.”

“Don’t care.” Neil groans. “Hope you’re even louder.”

“Jesus, you’re horny.” Andrew observes. “You ready already?”

Neil nods, and Andrew grabs the strap and hands it to him. They rearrange just enough that they can fit the dildo between them as Neil works it down and then, finally, into him, his breathy whines making Andrew glad he’d stashed that thing in the car in the first place.

“Don’t turn it on yet.” Neil warns. “I won’t last.”

“Mhm.” Andrew looks at him thoughtfully, before sliding off of Neil’s lap into the seat beside him. Neil looks at him, confusion muddling his expression, until Andrew leans over and licks up the side of the strap. Neil gasps and scrabbles for purchase on the seats as Andrew continues to lap at his dick, drool pooling on his tongue and dribbling down to wet Neil even further than he’s already become.

Andrew bites down a moan when he moves his hand between his legs and under his boxers, but Neil evidently notices anyways when he squeezes the seat so hard the leather squeaks a warning. Neil is back to an uncaring volume- loud and needy and reacting to every shift in Andrew’s posture, every move of his tongue against black silicone- and he tries his best to turn to words, babbling about how good it feels (Andrew isn’t sure if he’s imagining things or just stupid, since the thing isn’t really attached to his body, but Neil truly sounds like he believes it) and how beautiful Andrew looks with Neil halfway down his throat. Andrew purposefully ignores the way Neil’s praise has his fingers sliding easier and easier as he prepares himself.

He shifts a little in order to look up at Neil, who’s handsomely flushed with blown pupils and a bit lip, and Neil groans- especially as Andrew wraps his lips around the tip of the dick and bobs downwards. Neil looks impossibly more fucked-out by the second as Andrew pushes all the way down and back up before pulling completely off, and in his peripheral he can see Neil’s impossibly blue eyes on him while he wipes drool from his mouth and pants like a dog.

“Don’t say anything mushy, idiot.” Andrew says, breathless and messy, and knows he was right when he sees Neil’s mouth close. “I’m getting back on top now. Yes or no?”

“God, yes.” Neil’s hips shudder as Andrew pauses to fish through the black bag for the lube and slicks the strap up even further. He gives it a few slow strokes to keep the lube from drying as he uses his other hand to pull down his boxers and slides back onto Neil’s lap.

“Hey.” Neil murmurs, and Andrew meets his eyes- the blue is practically swallowed up by his pupils but the small ring of bright color is still monumentally comforting, though if Neil keeps staring at him like they’re in matching suits at the altar they’re going to have problems.

Andrew lines himself up to take the strap- but before he sinks down, he smirks, and presses the button at the base of Neil’s dick.

Neil comes alive as the buzzing starts. His hands clutch desperately at Andrew’s hips, and he’s downright whimpering even before Andrew settles down fully.

Andrew’s little gasps have Neil’s hips shivering- but he won’t move, not until Andrew gives him the go-ahead. Andrew slowly pulls up, and drops down, relishing the way Neil’s jaw clenches, the scar along the left side turning white with the effort. He does it again, quickening his pace slightly, and bites back a moan- but Neil whines in protest. Andrew, begrudgingly, obliges, letting out a still-quieted noise, and the pinch of Neil’s brow makes it all worth it. He bounces again.

“Neil.” Andrew says, breathless, and raises his hips. Neil moans in lieu of response- his cheeks are so flushed he practically matches his hair, and sweat rolls down his temple. Andrew continues to move as he taps his finger against Neil’s lips. “Open.”

Neil obeys immediately. Andrew trails his hand down to Neil’s neck, his other hand still tangled in Neil’s hair, and steadies him with his thumb and forefinger on either side of his jaw before he spits in Neil’s mouth. Neil whines, swallowing quickly, and he moans again when Andrew yanks at his hair- he’s found a decent rhythm now, still slow, but good enough it has Andrew panting, and he makes sure Neil is looking at him when he hovers and nods permission to move.

Neil rolls his hips into gear like he’s been waiting to forever, meeting Andrew’s pace easily as he fucks up and leaves Andrew gasping- and he abandons any remaining quiet dignity to let out a dragged-out whine as Neil continues to rock up and down into him. He slides the hand on Neil’s jaw downwards just barely until his fingers are wrapped loosely around his throat, and Neil keens, hips stuttering for just a moment before he returns to himself.

“LIke that, yeah- good-” Andrew grasps at Neil’s hair, careful not to hurt him, and leans in to give him a messy mostly-teeth some-tongue kiss before he pulls back to keep watching Neil. Sweat still falls down his temple, and his brow is pinched- his one-handed grip on Andrew’s hip has slackened, and his hands are now scrabbling at Andrew’s chest and stomach uselessly while his hips shudder beneath. Underneath it all, the softly slapping skin and Neil’s heady whines, Andrew can still hear the vibrator buzzing lowly, and he drops himself down far enough to feel it buzz against his own dick before he pulls back up, helping to set the pace. Neil lets his head fall back against the seat as his body chases the high of its own accord. He moans again when Neil rolls his hips up to meet him, and Neil full-body shivers.

The catch and drag of Neil’s dick inside Andrew has him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making more embarrassing noises, but the little punched-out moans he makes every time Neil’s hips snap up keep escaping despite his efforts- and Neil takes it as a challenge when he pushes up next. The pace still feels somehow torturously slow as Neil fucks up and pulls out of him- and Andrew clasps at Neil’s chest with one hand as he steadies himself against the seat with the other.

Neil’s whines are short and breathless- his throat hitches when he thrusts deep enough to push the vibrating pad harder against himself, and his fingers are sweaty where they hold Andrew tenderly. This is his favorite part of fucking Neil. He loves it- Neil’s dirty halting breath, the few ginger curls stick to his forehead with far too much sweat, the filthy chase as Neil pushes them both towards what their bodies are seeking. He dips forward to lick a stripe up Neil’s neck, the salt of his sweat sharp on his tongue, and nips at his skin as he speeds up the roll of his hips with a purpose.

A moan rips out of Neil as their hips connect again, and again, and again. His breaths are ragged and shallow, and Andrew knows what’s approaching.

“Fuck- not much longer, ‘Drew, I can’t-”

“Not yet.” Andrew pants. “Not yet, keep going- faster-” His thighs are burning at this rate, but he can feel something building- which is rare. He’s not one to get there from penetration alone, but he is sure beyond a shadow of a doubt there’s something in the air tonight with the way things are going. He takes his hand from Neil’s throat and finds Neil’s wandering fingers on him somehow, pushing them down from his hip bone to the soft fat of his inner thigh- and Neil hits the ground running. He’s back to babbling nonsensical praise as his fingers massage circles into Andrew’s skin, and every word and every thrust and every pinch of Neil’s brow has Andrew sliding closer and closer to that edge.

“You look so good, Andrew, fuck-” Neil bites off another loud noise. “‘Drew, ‘Drew, I-”

“Not yet, not yet,” Andrew caresses Neil’s face with both hands. He’s nearly there, he’s so close- And Neil’s whines and gasps are so, so nearly enough-

Neil thrusts particularly viciously, and it has Andrew seeing stars- he can barely call out to Neil before the vibrating bit presses hard against him, sending him careening, and they’re both moaning so loud Andrew’s sure someone’s called the cops by now but it doesn’t matter because the waves of pleasure he’s feeling aren’t part of this world. He’s floating and the only thing keeping him here is Neil’s face between his hands and the shivers that shake the strap between them as they both ride through their highs with a few final grinding rolls.

Andrew can feel his sweat slick on the headrest he’s clutching once they stop moving, but he can’t bring himself to care about the expensive leather. Not when Neil is beneath him, and they’re both shivering a little as aftershocks course through them and the adrenaline wears off and leaves them in the chilly night. A drop of sweat traces a path down Andrew’s spine, making him shudder.

Neil’s hands on his thighs is what brings him back to reality, and Andrew remembers suddenly that they’re in public, naked, and Neil’s dick is buried in him seven inches deep.

“Neil.” Andrew hisses, and Neil blinks, coming down from his blissed-out state. “Neil, pull out. We have to get dressed.”

Neil nods lazily, and slips the dildo out of himself before gently easing it out of Andrew, watching him carefully for signs of discomfort as he goes. He replaces it in the bag, but makes no effort to move yet- Andrew is still sitting exposed in his lap. It’s less terrifying than he thought it would be- the windows are fogged, which helps, despite the flickering streetlamp and booming club threatening just how public they really are- but Neil feels like a buffer between him and the world.

Neil’s eyes are on him still, soft and curious. Neil knows how he can get after something so intense, and he’s prepared to get as far away as he can if he needs to, or on his better days hold him close enough that sweat glues them together. Andrew flicks Neil’s arm as he meets his affectionate gaze. “Two hundred percent.”

Neil only smiles. He knows what Andrew is telling him. “Okay.”

Andrew is furious at the heat that creeps onto his cheeks, and even more so when he sees Neil’s smile widen as he spots it. He can’t be mad for long, though, because Neil asks to kiss him again and he says yes, and the way Neil’s fingers tremble as he holds him so sweetly is next to godliness. He’ll never say it, not in so many words- but they both know what they’re thinking.

Before they can stay until the sun comes up, Neil fetches their clothes, and they dress as best they can in the cramped space. Andrew sends a text out to the group that their ride is leaving without them, and Andrew’s hand settles comfortable and comforting on Neil’s thigh as he swings the car back around the front, where Kevin and Aaron stand an awkward distance away from each other.

Andrew arches a brow at Neil and pulls up to the curb. Kevin and Aaron wordlessly get in on opposite sides of the car looking anywhere but at the two in the front seats, all red faces and rumpled clothes, but Neil forces their attention with a sharp laugh.

He turns to look at Kevin. “Always the blonde ones, huh?”

Andrew’s knuckles go white on the wheel, and he’s sure the pained crease in his forehead is very visible. Kevin opens his mouth to argue, but before he can say anything his side of the car opens again. It’s Nicky- he’s giggling wildly for some godforsaken reason, usual drunken smile plastered on his face, and he stumbles a little when Kevin pushes him backwards.

“Other side, Nicky!” Kevin says, and Aaron whips around to protest.

“Just move th’ fuck over, Kev!” Nicky demands, heavily slurred, and shoves his way in as Kevin begrudgingly scooches over. Andrew’s eyes haven’t left the windshield in a while. “Don’t be jealous because I got some in there and you wasted the night sulking with dein kindermädchen.”

Andrew and Neil share a look. Aaron clears his throat- his and Kevin’s guilty tension is palpable, and Andrew wants nothing more than to never, ever address their ill-timed run-in.

“No words.” Andrew sighs. “I want this car dead silent until I’m in bed at the house. That means you, Nicky.”

Nicky huffs in lieu of response. Kevin shifts around in his new seat as Neil turns back to Andrew, and he squeezes Neil’s thigh slightly before shifting back into drive. He pulls out of the Eden’s lot and onto the nearly empty late-night highway, trusting his memory to direct him to Nicky’s place quick enough that he can forget everything about this night that isn’t Neil-related, and be left only with the memories of hands on his thighs and high percentages.

Hopefully, none of his teammates in the backseat, two-thirds of which are his blood related family, notice the bottle of lube forgotten on the Maserati floor.