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Andrew would never live this high down. Chris—his boyfriend—was here. In person. In his house with him. He didn’t think he’d ever been this happy before.
He had flown in that morning after a sleepless night from both boys. Their nerves were too high and their hearts wouldn’t stop racing any time soon, so they sat on call together until Chris had to get on his flight. On which they still messaged non-stop, of course. Andrew finalized his plans for the millionth time, running them all by Chris who assured him over and over that as long as he was with Andrew, anything was welcome, which both calmed his racing heart and made it flutter simultaneously. God, how did Andrew get so lucky?
He recalled his slick palms and blurred vision in the airport, where he stood waiting alone and away from the crowd as he watched like a hawk for the sight of the black curls he had only seen for the first time the night before in a picture. (They were both frightened by the environment of the airport, so they decided it was best to not have to worry about identifying each other on top of that anxiety. He had gawked over it—over Chris—for what felt like hours. He stared at his screen hard enough to give him a headache, wanting to commit every pixel to memory despite the fact that he’d be seeing the image personified just the next day. His fluffy hair, his adorable freckles, his bright eyes—hell, Andrew never thought he’d find a nose attractive, but here he was.
But Chris wasn’t the only one to receive such appreciation, oh no. Chris spewed out compliments like a poet, admiring Andrew like a beautiful piece of art. He had left Andrew’s head spinning with his dazzling remarks, his words so genuine and special that he simply had to believe them. Andrew had never felt like he was a very attractive person himself, but if Chris thought so, then he might as well be the most handsome person on Earth.)
He was sure he would never forget the moment they first landed eyes on each other—the way the other boy sprinted into his arms and the way Andrew held him as if he would disappear. It was more than awkward—he wasn't sure of the best way to place his arms, or how tight or loose he should hold Chris, or how long he should hold him before letting go—but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind all that much. He knew Chris didn’t. Not with the way his smile lit up his entire face, his shining eyes taking in every piece of Andrew and swallowing them whole. The way his hands lingered on Andrew’s shoulders a beat longer than their embrace. The way he seemed to forget the rest of the world existed, his focus solely on the boy in front of him.
Andrew had talked a hundred miles an hour on the way to his house about anything and everything while Chris was seemingly content to just be hearing the other man’s voice without the use of a microphone. They had gone in together, Chris never straying further than a foot from Andrew’s side as they unpacked and carried his luggage inside. Andrew insisted on carrying everything, of course, despite Chris’ countless rebuttals. When they walked in the door, they were immediately met with the scent of professionally seasoned and garnished steak, courtesy of Alyssa.
The three of them ate together in the kitchen, the two boys close enough to constantly bump shoulders when they took a bite due to Andrew’s left handedness (they remained this close the whole dinner, even when said left-handed man jumped minutely with each touch). The majority of the meal was spent with Alyssa drilling into Chris, which Andrew desperately fought to prevent but Chris insisted he didn’t mind. He felt like he knew Alyssa inside and out anyway with the amount Andrew talked about her, enough that he felt like she was his own sister. They both knew there was no malice behind her questions, and that she had immediately grown a soft spot for the boy as soon as he walked in the door. Yet she insisted she had to make sure he was “right” for Andrew.
A delicious meal and several embarrassing questions later, Chris and Andrew had finally ended up where they are now, in Andrew’s bedroom together, both worn out from such an exhausting and monumental day.
“Well—uh. Here it is. I—I know we talked about it before, but are you sure—“
“Yes, Andrew, I’m aware you just have one bed. It’s okay, I promise you. We can do whatever you need to be comfortable.” He paused for a moment, his expression deceptively serious. “What I want to know about, though,” he looked over Andrew’s shoulder, pointing at a large green mass on his bed, “is that.”
Andrew’s eyes widened and he immediately turned to stand between Chris and the bed. “Nothing. I—ha—I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should—you should turn around for a sec.”
Chris just laughed, pushing against Andrew in an attempt to get closer to the mysterious object. Luckily for him, Andrew didn’t put up much of a fight, focusing on the heat beneath his shirt where the boy had laid his hand. Coming back to his senses, he immediately turned away in embarrassment as he heard Chris gasp lightly and burst into a fit of giggles. “Is that—pffft—is that supposed to be me?”
“No.” Andrew lied, still facing the opposite direction.
“Andrew. It’s a creeper. Like—I know you’re obsessed with Minecraft, but I know you don’t care about it that much.”
Andrew’s face was beet red by now, he was sure. “I only play it so much because I play with you…”
“Not helping your case here, buddy.”
Andrew finally caved, rolling his eyes and turning to face Chris. He only flustered further as he saw the creeper plush in question in the lap of his boyfriend, who had a smug grin plastered on his face. “Just… shut up. Gimme it.”
“Mmm, no, I don’t think I will. I think stuffed-Chris and I should get acquainted. I’d like to get to know the man who gets to live my dream every night, see if he’s got any pointers for me.”
“Chriiiiiis…” Andrew buried his face in his hands.
The man simply giggled, placing the stuffed creeper on the corner of the mattress and standing to walk up to Andrew. He slowly peeled Andrew’s hands from his face, holding them gently within his own.
Andrew’s breath hitched. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the physical affection the other seemed to love to give him. Not that he was complaining, necessarily. He’d dreamt of the feeling of their hands intertwined, their bodies pressed together, hearing the beating of the other’s heart—but it could never compare to the real thing. The real thing was much warmer, much softer, and way more overwhelming. He just hated how his body’s natural response to it was to flee.
“Don’t be ashamed, I think it’s cute.”
Andrew stared into the eyes of his lover, resisting the shy urge to tuck his face into his shoulder. He was embarrassed, sure, but looking into Chris’ eyes and seeing nothing but fondness convinced him that maybe forgetting to hide the plush in a closet was the best mistake he ever made. He found himself quickly lost in the oceanic swirl of blue and green of the other’s irises, the shine of the overhead lights casting a glare like the crest of a wave passing over their depths. Red was always Andrew’s favorite color, but… he wouldn’t be upset if this was the only color he saw for the rest of his life.
The breath from the other boy’s mouth on the lower half of Andrew’s face woke him from his stupor and he blinked rapidly, backing up a few inches and stuttering out an apology. He hadn’t realized how close they had gotten. But Chris, ever so patient, simply giggled and smiled an enamored smile as the other boy puttered around the room, grabbing an outfit to sleep in.
“I’m—I’m uh. Gonna go change. I’ll uh. I’ll be right back. Uhm… yeah. Bye.” Andrew cringed at his own awkwardness as he shut the door behind him and sped toward the bathroom.
He quickly changed his clothing and turned to face the mirror. He grasped the counter with white knuckles as he glared at his reflection, hoping to scare away his blush. But after several fruitless moments, he resorted to splashing water on his face and drying it with a hand towel. Taking a deep breath, he stalked back to his door, knocking before hearing a small “Come in!” from the other side.
Pushing the door open, he swore under his breath at the sight of Chris in his pajamas. So much for trying to get rid of the redness in his face.
The boy sat on the edge of Andrew’s bed, casually leaning back on the palms of his hands as his legs dangled over the edge. He wore a simple t-shirt with grey sweatpants that barely reached a few inches below his knees. In contrast to the pants, his shirt had to be several sizes too big for him with the way it bundled into a small pile where it fell around his waist and how its “short” sleeves reached just below his elbows. Andrew made a point to not stare at how far down his chest the neckline fell.
Chris, noticing Andrew’s flustered state, simply grinned. “You wanna turn the light off?”
“Oh—yeah, uh huh.” Chris giggled—he hadn’t seemed to be able to stop doing that since he got here. It was quickly becoming Andrew’s favorite sound.
With a click, the room was sent into darkness. Andrew, taking several deep breaths, made his way over to the bed, where Chris had already made himself comfortable on the far side of the mattress.
With shaky hands, he peeled back the blanket and ever so slowly and meticulously slid his limbs under the covers one at a time, making sure to keep a safe distance from the boy who he was sure was watching his every movement.
Chris watched with a sad gaze as his boyfriend shivered with anxiety, staring straight above himself at the ceiling with his arms clenched tightly against his body. The man had been nervous and jumpy around him since they met in the airport. He didn’t blame him in the slightest—it was a big change for both of them, of course he would take a lot of time to adjust. Chris just worried he hadn’t been doing enough to help him with that.
“Andrew?” He winced at the raspiness in his tone.
“Hm?”
“Am I… making you uncomfortable at all?”
"…what?"
“It’s just—you’ve been on edge all day, you’re really shy and tense, you jump any time I touch you—I just don’t want to do anything you’re not okay with. Am I overstepping? Should—should I back off a bit?”
The man quickly turned to face Chris, concern clearly etched on his face despite the limited visibility. “NO—no—I’m sorry I—“ Andrew huffed in annoyance as his words seemed to fail him. “It’s… not that, I’m just—not used to it, I guess. But—it’s—ah—“ His words trailed off to a murmur as he timidly turned to face away from Chris.
“It’s… what?”
Andrew didn’t turn back to face him, so his words were still muffled. But Chris could understand him regardless. “It’s… really nice. I—I really like it.”
Chris hummed, the worry in his heart lifting to make way for something much warmer. “In that case… Can I do something?”
“Uh—yeah, of course.”
Chris wasted no time in snaking his hand around the other’s waist, pulling Andrew’s back into his own chest, tangling their legs and pressing his face into the boy's hair.
“Oh.”
He felt the man freeze for several moments before his own hand crept up to meet Chris’, locking their fingers together. Chris smiled into the other’s hair and tightened his grasp, feeling the vibrations of the other letting out a shaky breath.
Chris giggled. “Is this okay?”
He felt Andrew nod, the motion vigorous but gentle as to not hit Chris too harshly.
Chris was sure this was what pure euphoria felt like. He was away from his parents, in a house with people that cared about him more than anyone ever had. He was warm and content, his mind blissfully empty of the thoughts that so often plagued it and his stomach full of possibly the most delicious meal he’d ever had. Oh, and he had the boy of his dreams wrapped up in his arms. The boy that had come into his life as if some omniscient being had heard his pleas and wishes and decided to answer them. The boy that cared and paid attention and had patience and wanted him when no one else did. The boy that took him as he was—broken and shattered and vulnerable—and held him together until he was strong enough to stand on his own.
He couldn’t stop himself from practically melting into Andrew, making as many points of connection between the two as possible. Chris wanted to memorize every inch of his form just as he had with his mind. But—oh. He was still tense. Hm. He couldn’t have that now, could he?
Chris readjusted his position, lowering his body to more effectively tuck his face into Andrew’s neck, never letting go of his hand in the process. Once he settled, he let out a breath from the awkward exertion of his body. He felt the boy jump beneath him.
“Andrew?”
“H—huh?”
“You okay?”
“Y—ah. Yeah, yep. Mhm. All good.”
But with every breath Chris let out, the other boy’s shoulders hitched up further, bit by bit, until they were flush with the sides of his head.
“…you sure?”
“Hah—uh-huh. All good.”
“You already said that.” Chris huffed out a laugh.
Andrew let out a meek giggle before immediately slapping his free hand over his mouth.
Oh.
Chris could work with this.
Testing the waters, he took a slow, deep breath before exhaling directly where Andrew’s hair thinned out on his neck. He reveled in the way the boy squirmed beneath him, his squeaks muffled by his own palm. Chris couldn’t stop his own giddy grin as he lightly, cautiously planted his lips on the same spot.
“Gah—“ The man jolted immediately, curling into himself. The action only urged Chris to continue, wanting to know what other sounds he could pull out of the other's throat. He pushed himself up onto his elbow to get better access to the higher angle of the boy’s neck.
His mouth slowly trailed up to a point just behind Andrew’s ear, leaving behind a path of small kisses along his hairline as the boy wriggled and gasped below him all the while. He let his lips linger for a moment longer on the soft skin below Andrew’s ear as he contemplated his next move. He had his fun messing with the boy where he was clearly sensitive but… just hearing the sounds he made wasn’t enough. He needed to see the flustered expression on his face—to see evidence of his discomfort leaving his body.
“Ch—Chris what are you—AH—“
Andrew’s words caught in his throat as he was quickly and delicately pushed onto his back. Chris climbed over him, placing his knees around the man’s waist and his hands against the bedsheets beside his shoulders, his left hand still intertwined with Andrew’s right one. He drank in the way Andrew’s chest shuddered as it rose and fell rapidly, the way his mouth was slightly parted as if failing to form words, the way the cool natural lighting reflected off of his half-lidded eyes. The tension in his form was still present, though faint, as it gave way for something more intimate. But Chris wasn’t yet satisfied.
He traced the fingers of his free hand across Andrew’s collar and down his chest, taunting him as he stared deeply into his eyes. He paused his movements just above his stomach, blinking once and smirking.
“Chris—no—don’t you da-ha-re—“ Andrew broke off into a fit of giggles as Chris ghosted his fingertips over Andrew’s lower abdomen. He watched, enamoured, taking in Andrew’s reaction to every touch and every location of his hand, studying what made him squirm the most. He slowly dragged his fingers to Andrew’s side, just above his hips, where he was rewarded with a delightful gasp and a dull pressure of the boy’s knees kicking up and squeezing into his sides. He heard the beginnings of an apology worm its way out of Andrew’s mouth—no no no, he wouldn’t let that slide. He interrupted the man, snaking his fingers under the fabric of his shirt to yet again attack that sensitive spot. His fingers traced mindless shapes into the boy’s cold skin, feeling it twitch and writhe under his touch.
He teased and toyed with the man as he lost his sense of time, all of his senses too focused on the uncontrolled giggles spilling out of his lover. Chris’s eyes scanned over Andrew’s face, analyzing for any ounce of that tension from before. But he found none. He was breathless and exhausted and ruined, sure, but his joy was genuine and his laughter was warm. Chris felt his smile grow infinitely larger.
At some point, he felt Andrew try to pull away from his touch. At the risk of ruining the progress he made and making the boy uncomfortable yet again, he slowed his movements. But he kept his hand where it was, holding on to the other’s waist with a firm yet gentle grip.
The boy beneath him shook with ragged breaths, his face filled with relief as he was given the chance to recover. Chris found himself lost in the flutter of Andrew’s eyelashes and the deep burning in his cheeks. He subconsciously leaned closer to the boy’s face, tilting his head to better take in his features. Reluctantly, he released the hand on Andrew’s waist, bringing it up to cup his cheek.
Andrew didn’t jump at the touch. Rather, he leaned into it, his eyes widening minutely. Chris could have melted at the sheer amount of softness and ease and trust in his gaze. Overwhelmed with adoration, he couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth.
“Can I kiss you?”
Andrew’s brain was already completely fried and all giggled-out, so he was half convinced he imagined the question Chris had asked him. But after the two sat in silence for a few moments, Chris’ gaze becoming increasingly more concerned as Andrew still had yet to respond, he realized it was real.
Heat pooled in his face and neck, and yet… he couldn’t find it in himself to be nervous. No—in fact, this was exactly what he wanted. And if Chris did too? Well then…
“Ah—sorry that’s—mphh—“
Andrew propped himself up on his hand, surging forward with an unexpected amount of energy as his lips sloppily met Chris’, cutting off his worried mumbling. His eyes fluttered shut as the other man immediately melted into the kiss, pressing against Andrew with a gentle strength that made him feel weak. And it seemed that was the final straw for Andrew’s exhausted body as the two collapsed on top of each other, Andrew’s arm giving out under the pressure.
He felt Chris giggle into his sternum more than he heard it, the echoey vibrations flooding his foggy brain and making him laugh too, the sound ragged and gravelly. Still catching his breath, Andrew tilted his head downwards to take in the sight of the adorable man on top of him. Chris’ whole body shook with soft, unending laughter, the sound akin to the airy ring of wind chimes. Andrew tucked his free hand into the mess of curls that filled his vision, focusing on the feeling of Chris’s warm breath against his chest and the idle movements of his thumb on Andrew’s hand that he had yet to let go of.
Andrew sighed, the most content and relaxed he had been all day. He forced himself to peel his eyes away from Chris, afraid he would simply burst with the amount of love stirring within him if he stared any longer. Though he placed a quick peck on the top of the man’s head, unable to hold back.
He felt the boy slowly release his hand and remove himself from his position as a blanket on top of Andrew, said man having to suppress a whine at the loss of contact. His grief quickly faded, though, as his boyfriend found a comfortable place on the mattress to his left, where he had been previously, and wrapped his arms protectively around Andrew.
Andrew returned the embrace with a force that could have knocked the wind out of Chris had they not already been so close. Though it was clear the other still felt it, coughing lightly as Andrew squeezed the air out of him.
Hearing the sound, Andrew loosened his grip immediately, prying his face out of Chris’s chest to look him in the eyes and apologize. When he turned his face upwards, however, he wasn’t given the chance to speak as Chris’ warm lips captured his own.
This time Andrew was able to fully appreciate the gesture, letting Chris take control as he tried to find a rhythm in the movement, learning quickly despite his lack of experience. Andrew was gaining a lot of new favorite things today, and kissing Chris was definitely one of them. The action sent waves of heat and electricity through Andrew’s entire body, clouding his mind with nothing but Chris. The other man was able to communicate such powerful emotion through the gesture, his gentleness and hunger and passion overwhelming Andrew even further.
After what Andrew decided was an unfortunately short amount of time, the two separated, their exhausted bodies unable to go too long without more oxygen. Andrew couldn’t muster the energy to open his eyes back up, settling on simply nuzzling into the crook of the man’s neck, letting his pulse be the metronome that leveled out Andrew’s breathing.
As he laid there, wrapped up in warmth and comfort, his mind was peacefully quiet, his thoughts simply full of whispers of love and trust and Chris. In Chris’s arms, he felt safe. He felt right. And he appreciated that more than he knew how to put into words.
A final kiss was pressed against his head and a quiet promise of unconditionality was whispered into his ears as his consciousness faded. Soon enough, Andrew fell into a deep, blissful slumber knowing that, when he woke, Chris would be there to greet him yet again.