ColdSaturn

Here it is, guys! There was more (like, a lot more), but it was really angsty and I wasn’t happy with it, and then I got too depressed to finish it. I’ll work on it in the future, because it was fun to write! It’s… NSFW. But it’s not the most explicit thing I’ve ever written.

um. @ginevre, @coldsaturn-bellarke tumblr won’t let me tag your main blog? Idk, Idc, I’m sure you can find it one way or another. @yikesjosten It’s not a puppy, but I’m working on that one too!

…….

When Andrew began refusing cracker dust for the monsters, Columbia lost a lot of its appeal for Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin. More and more often, a trip to the city included only Neil and Andrew, and they spent less and less time at Eden’s Twilight. Some weekends, they drove out to Columbia and went straight to the cousins’ house. Sometimes they stopped at a grocery store and bought ice cream and coffee and booze.

The first week of December, Andrew had a bad week, his sleep filled with nightmares while his bed remained empty. Neil slept in his own bunk when Andrew’s nightmares were bad – neither wanted to wake up with a knife in the spleen. Andrew couldn’t handle Neil’s weight on the bed next to him. He was exhausted and irritable, and he spent too much time fingering the knives under his sleeves, trying to remind himself of their protection.

Neil didn’t know how to help. His presence wasn’t as easing for Andrew as Andrew’s was when Neil had a hard time. The only thing he could do was give Andrew space. He made himself available, but didn’t press. Even now, the men sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Andrew methodically worked his way through a pint of ridiculously sweet ice cream while Neil ate popcorn. A movie played on the television, Andrew having banned exy from the house. Around midnight, Andrew shut off the television. The screen went dark, leaving the men bathed in shadows. Andrew stood and walked to the doorway. Remaining seated, Neil asked, “Do you want me to stay here?” They always shared Andrew’s room, but Neil was more concerned with Andrew’s comfort than his own.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Andrew snapped, making an impatient gesture for Neil to follow.

Neil didn’t think it was a stupid question, but he ignored it for now, and followed the blond to his bedroom. Andrew shucked his jeans and eased his armbands off from underneath his long sleeves. He left his shirt and boxers on, standard sleep fare. He climbed into bed, back pressed to the wall, and stared a challenge at Neil, eyes shadowed in the dark room. For Neil’s part, he tried to strip down in as innocent a manner as possible, leaving on his own shirt and boxers. They both had scars to hide, less from each other and more from themselves.

“Do you want me here?” Neil asked, standing beside the bed, giving the blond another out.

Andrew continued to stare, and Neil wished that he could read him better. Usually, he trusted Andrew to protect himself, but if he was more intent on protecting Neil, he ignored his own pain. “Lay down,” Andrew muttered, annoyed. “I want you here.” Neil did as he was told, stretching out on his back and leaving a narrow space between their bodies. He could not sleep on his back, and he didn’t think he could sleep with his back to the room that evening, but if Andrew awoke from a nightmare, he didn’t want him to be greeted by an anonymous back ripe for stabbing. Andrew sighed like Neil’s consideration was unbearably irritating, and rolled Neil on his side, pulling him closer. “I promise I won’t stab you until I remember you’re you,” he said in response to Neil’s thoughts. He must be easier to read than Andrew was. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine.” Andrew huffed at the phrase, and Neil smiled in the dark. Sleep was not long coming, not after a week of little sleep for both of them.

…

Neil was having a nightmare.

Andrew woke to the feel of Neil’s torso, too hot under his arm, rising and falling too quickly. A sound escaped the redhead’s lips, a low whimper. Aside from the breathing he was still, but he felt almost fevered. Andrew sighed. This was the first day in over a week that he hadn’t woken up clammy with fear, and instead he was clammy with Neil’s fear. He knew that if he tugged Neil’s overheated form against his, it would jostle him out of the nightmare, but he wanted to move to a cooler part of the bed first.

There was no cooler part of the bed, so Andrew ignored his own discomfort and tightened his arm around Neil. He pulled the redhead’s back flush to his chest, and then froze.

The sound that Neil made just then was a sound Andrew usually only heard with his hand down the other’s pants, and Andrew’s body reacted on muscle memory, without permission. But no – no, he must have been imagining that sound.

Then Neil shifted closer to the blond, his ass riding against Andrew’s groin, and that sound was absolutely a moan, full and debauched, and Andrew was suddenly rock hard and aching. Neil rubbed against him like he wanted him. For a single moment, Andrew pushed back and earned another whimper. His name. “Andrew…” The sleepy mumble was full of need, and Andrew tightened his grip before remember that Neil was asleep and ‘yes or no’ hadn’t happened, and he needed a yes or no more than air.

In his quiet desperation, the shove he gave Neil was hard and nearly pushed the taller men off the bed. Neil’s flailing finished the job, and he hit the floor only to come up swinging and confused. “What – What? Andrew?”

Andrew bared his teeth, yanking the blanket up over his shoulders. “Shut up and get out of my sight.” He watched Neil’s blue eyes widen as he scrambled out of the room, leaving the door open as he hurried down the hall. Andrew stormed from the bed to slam the door. He stormed around the room for a moment, kicking the pile of denim on the floor and cursing himself over touching Neil without permission.

Beyond the bedroom, Neil made his way to the kitchen. The clock on the stove blinked 3:55. Neil tried to analyze what had just happened. His cheeks flamed red as he thought about the dream Andrew had torn him out of when he threw him out of bed. He didn’t recall ever having a sex dream before, unsurprisingly due to his past and his singular attraction to Andrew.

He could imagine several reasons why Andrew might be upset. He could have had a particularly bad dream, and Neil was too close. Andrew may have simply woken to an unknown back and just shoved unknowingly. Or it could have been Andrew’s stupidly accurate awareness of Neil, and he had somehow known what Neil was dreaming about. That idea brought more heat to his face because he was lowkey still trying to figure that out. Neil made a cup of hot chocolate, thinking to sooth the beast that was Andrew. Hopefully something warm and sweet would convince Andrew to allow Neil back in for a couple more hours of sleep.

Cup steaming in hand, Neil returned to the bedroom. He tapped once on the door, then eased it open, slipping the mug inside and closing the door again without speaking. From there, he made his way to the living room. He turned on the television, setting the volume at a near-inaudible level, and switching to an ESPN channel. A far-too-awake host spoke about the recent Trojan game, and Neil stared blankly at the screen, thinking instead about his dream.

“Fucking junkie.”

Neil looked up sharply to meet Andrew’s hooded gaze, dangerous in the per-dawn light. His face was blank, like always, and he looked deadly, like always. Neil turned off the television, right before Andrew slapped the remote out of his hand. Then Andrew’s mouth was on his, hot and hard and chocolate-flavored. Before Neil could tuck his hands safely away, Andrew’s fingers circled his scarred wrists and dragged them to his shoulders.

“Yes, Andrew,” Neil said against his mouth, before he could ask. Andrew kissed him harder, releasing his wrists in favor of climbing onto Neil’s lap, knees braced on either side of his hips. He moved closer until chest pressed to chest, and he swallowed Neil’s moan. The taller man moved beneath him, returning kiss after kiss until his breath was fast and hard as needy. His dream came back to him in a flash – bare skin against bare skin, bodies hard and pressing and wanting – and he couldn’t keep his hips from thrusting up against Andrew.

Andrew, nearly silent, responded with a shaky sigh and ground into Neil. He pulled his mouth away to lean in with a soft bite to Neil’s neck. The resulting shudder and moan brought Andrew’s head back up. “Didn’t just come in your pants, did you?” he taunted.

Neil’s laugh was breathless. “Not yet. Gonna make me?” he invited.

Andrew continued staring at his flushed face, his taught muscles, clenched to stay still, to keep his hands still on Andrew’s shoulders, not straying. “Not in your pants,” he decided, adding with a smirk, “if you can resist it.”

hello yes I've just decided this is my christmas' gift and I'm LIVING