Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Andrew? You’ve been off. Is everything okay?” Neil asked with worry.

They’d had different classes in opposite parts of campus, and practice was the first time since waking up together and eating breakfast that they were in the same place again. And something must have happened between then and now, because Andrew had given even less of a shit in the goal than was his usual wont. As soon as Coach had blown his whistle to dismiss the team, Andrew had stayed behind on the bench and stared into space. Everyone had given him a wide berth when coming off the Court. Neil had sat in the stands, keeping a firm watch over the goalkeeper.

When everyone else had gone, and Wymack had said goodbye, Neil had finally stepped down the concrete steps and walked over to Andrew. Andrew had gotten to his feet and led the way into the locker room where he rummaged in his bag for something.

Neil was surprised when he saw what Andrew fished out of the bottom of his bag, and he wasn’t.

In Andrew’s hand lay their thin, leather collar they used for scenes.

“I need you to put this on me,” Andrew bit out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Neil asked, guessing the answer before Andrew gave it.

“No.”

“You know what it means when I put this on you?” Neil questioned the goalkeeper. They always did this. Whenever the one needed to wear it and submit, the other made sure they knew exactly what it entailed. When Andrew nodded and looked directly into Neil’s eyes, Neil saw only agreement. “Any limits tonight?” Neil asked softly.

“Yes. Nothing sexual. I don’t want to be touched at all. And I don’t want full nudity. I’d like to keep my underwear and armbands on,” Andrew muttered quietly, his usual energy diminished. Something was up with him, and Neil could see how much he was struggling.

Neil would take care of him, and make sure he didn’t have to think about a single thing. Tomorrow would be a new day, and maybe then Andrew would feel more comfortable sharing what was going on.

“That’s completely fine. Thank you for telling me,” he told Andrew in all honestly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kneel for me, and for the rest of the night, you won’t be getting up again, apart from when we’re walking out of here to go home or when I tell you to. You’re going to undress me, and then you’re going to step into the shower with me where you’re going to wash me. I’ll dress myself after, and you’ll dress yourself as well. At home, you’ll get your cushion, and I will make us dinner. Your favorite. You’ll be eating on the floor next to me. After, we’re going to watch a movie and then go to bed. Does that sound doable to you?”

A glazed, thoughtful look entered Andrew’s eyes. He nodded after several seconds.

“I need your word, Andrew.”

“Yes.”

“Because once this goes on,” he showed Andrew the thin collar, “you’re not allowed to talk. Unless it’s to safeword. Tell me your safewords,” he finally ordered.

“No. Yellow for pause. Red for stop.”

“Good. I will not get mad if you use any of those. I might ask you spontaneously for your color if I feel something might be off, and if it’s still green, I expect you to tell me. If you say yellow, I’ll stop whatever it is I am doing, and you will tell me why you used it. I’ll then consider whether to continue or end the scene. If you say no or red, I’m stopping the scene, you will get up, and we will continue the evening the way we usually do. When you’re ready you can choose whether you want to tell me why you used your safeword, or if you don’t want to, I won’t pry. If at any other point you talk, there will be consequences. Not tonight. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. And it won’t be enjoyable. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Andrew replied dutifully, eyes cast down.

“Good. Now kneel.”

Neil watched as Andrew struggled for a moment to obey before his whole body relaxed and leaned into the command. He lowered himself until he was kneeling at Neil’s feet. He looked up at him expectantly, nearly holding his breath.

“I’m going to put this on. What happens when I do?”

Andrew took a deep breath. “I won’t be standing again unless you tell me to or when we’re walking out of here. And I’m not allowed to talk unless it’s to say my safeword or when you’re asking me for a color.”

“Good job, that was excellent,” Neil praised him. He knew how deeply relaxed Andrew got when he received praise. Usually so stoic and closed-off outside of submissive scenes, he never accepted any form of praise. This was his way of getting it, and it showed how completely he was submitting to Neil. It was glorious.

Without any pomp and circumstance, Neil asked Andrew to raise his head and expose his vulnerable throat. Neil placed the collar around it, careful not to touch any skin. Then he asked Andrew to bow his head so he could fasten the collar in his neck. Once it was on, he asked for a color.

“Green,” Andrew supplied.

“Very good,” Neil said. “I’m going to go sit on the bench. I want you to come over here, on all fours, and undress me. There will be nothing sexual in it, I guarantee it.”

Andrew nodded and bit his lip. Neil sat on the bench and waited patiently for Andrew to get moving. He would let Andrew decide when he was ready to crawl. It took Andrew a good minute of staring at Neil’s unaggressive posture and open expression before he dropped down on his hands as well and came over. Seeing him crawl on all four was a sight for sore eyes, and Neil made sure to smile softly the whole time. Andrew was being so good. So obedient. And he was proud of him.

And Andrew took to the task at hand with precision and dedication. He removed Neil’s gear first, then the padding, then his sweaty uniform, and not once did he bat an eyelash or squirm at the state of Neil’s clothes. He then went above and beyond when he placed the uniform in a small bundle, picked it up in his arms, and knee-walked over to the hamper in which he dumped everything.

“Amazing, Andrew, thank you,” Neil murmured. Every ounce of his body ached to reach out and caress the goalkeeper’s cheek, but he held himself back – he would never cross a boundary without explicit consent. His needs came second to Andrew’s. “Now come with me to the showers.”

Andrew followed him on all fours, then waited for Neil to turn on the water and step under the spray. He looked up at him with a glazed look.

“Strip. And join me.”

Andrew removed his own uniform, made a bit awkward from having to stay on his knees, leaving his underwear and armbands on like agreed.

“Come here,” Neil told him, and Andrew crawled under the warm water. “Let me get you the bodywash.” He reached behind him to grab the half empty bottle from the small shelf. He handed it to Andrew who remained on his knees. “You can start with my feet and work your way up. When you can’t reach anymore, you have permission to stand. Be thorough.”

Andrew nodded and lifted Neil’s left foot first. From there, he washed Neil perfunctorily but with care. He scrubbed his muscled thighs, spent time on his genitals, pushing Neil’s flaccid cock out of the way so he could get to his balls and then his hole. He moved up his abdomens, his stomach, then his chest. Then came the struggle to reach the rest of Neil. He looked up with a question in his eyes, and Neil nodded down on him. “Yes, you can stand,” Neil allowed quietly.

On secure legs, Andrew stood and finished washing Neil. Last, but not least, he accepted the bottle of shampoo that was given to him and washed Neil’s hair, rubbing soothing circles against his scalp, and then rinsed the shampoo out again.

“Now, wash yourself. I’ll step out to give you privacy. I’m going to get dressed. When you’re done washing, you can dry yourself while standing, but then it’s on your knees again. Understood?”

Andrew nodded again.

When the water cut off again, Neil was fully dressed in a pair of soft sweatpants and his PSU jersey, and he was feeling good. He watched Andrew open the shower cabin door, and politely looked away. “I’ve laid out clean clothes for you. You can use my armbands, since yours are wet.”

Andrew gave him a noncommittal grunt in lieu of actual words to let Neil know he had heard and understood him.

“I’ll wait for you in the lounge. I expect you to follow my directives even when I am not there. You have to stay on all fours while getting dressed. The moment you leave the locker room, you may stand.” And with that, he walked out, leaving Andrew to his own devices, fully confident that he wouldn’t disobey him.

Dressed in a pair of soft sweatpants too, a turtleneck sweater to hide the collar, and with his armbands on underneath, Andrew looked a sliver more refreshed and alert. He came over to Neil and hung his head in a show of submission. Neil loved him for it, couldn’t wait to take him home and take care of him. They went over to the Maserati in silence, Andrew’s shoulder never once not touching Neil’s arm. This little sent Neil’s heart into a riot of joy and relief.

In the car, Neil settled in the driver’s seat, adjusted its position, and stuck the key in the ignition. Andrew sat in the back, buckling up and staying perfectly quiet. Neil glanced back at him and smiled approvingly, then fished for his phone in his pocket. He dialed Nicky’s number first and held the phone up to his ear.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or did you just call me?” Nicky asked slyly. There was music playing in the background as well as a few of their teammates laughing at something.

“Your eyes are fine,” Neil replied. “We kind of need the suite to ourselves tonight,” he announced matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Nicky chuckled. “Yes. Of course. I’ll stay with some of the sophomores.”

Neil knew Nicky would probably come to the conclusion that he and Andrew wanted to be alone to have sex, which he found didn’t bother him too much. Under other circumstances, they might very well be headed towards a night of passion and pleasure.

“Thanks,” Neil said. He killed the call without waiting for Nicky’s goodbye, then pulled up Kevin’s contact information. “Hey,” he said when the taller striker picked up his phone.

“Hey,” Kevin retorted a little suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Where are you?”

“At Coach’s.” Kevin still hadn’t taken the plunge and called Wymack dad yet, but they were working on getting a father-son relationship strong enough to hold water.

“Good. Can you stay there for the night?”

Neil could practically hear Kevin’s scowl through the receiver end of his phone. “Fine,” Kevin eventually said. “When am I allowed to come back to my room?” he asked petulantly.

“Any time tomorrow. Thanks.”

Neil killed that call too. He looked behind him to find Andrew had closed his eyes and was leaning the side of his head against the window. He debated whether he should keep the goalkeeper from falling asleep, or if he should just let him. They were soon at the Tower anyway, and perhaps the small nap would do Andrew a world of good.

Back at the Tower, Andrew roused on his own and frowned deeply at the parking lot.

They rode the elevator to the fifth floor without speaking, and Neil double locked the door to their suite before sliding the chain on for good measure. He needed Andrew to be as relaxed as possible.

“Kneel,” he said as soon as Andrew had taken his shoes off. “Nod yes if you feel comfortable undressing down to your boxers. Shake if you’d rather stay clothed. Either way, I’m turning the thermostat up.”

It didn’t take long for Andrew to nod.

“Get to it, then. I’ll go get your pillow.”

Neil dipped into their bedroom to fetch the pillow they used exclusively for kneeling and scenes. It was velvet and plush and soft, not too big and not too small. They had gone shopping for it together a few months back when they’d started doing scenes here and there. At the sight of it in Neil’s hands when he came back over to the locked front door, Andrew’s body sagged, and he sighed.

With admiration, Neil allowed himself a moment to look at Andrew’s nearly naked body.

“Come here, let’s go into the kitchen. You can watch me cook for you.”

Andrew followed Neil on his hands and knees, like the good sub he knew to be, and settled down on the cushion when Neil placed it on the floor for him. Neil got dinner going, looking at Andrew from time to time to make sure he wasn’t squirming in discomfort. After fifteen minutes, he asked for the goalkeeper’s color.

“Green,” Andrew dutifully answered.

Neil set the counter for one and put Andrew’s plate down on the floor. “You can use your hands this time,” he told Andrew, giving him a fork and a knife. There were other times when he made Andrew eat straight from the plate without the use of any cutlery or his hands. But now was not the time for that sort of scene.

They ate. Neil talked about his day, and Andrew listened.

Afterwards, Neil did the dishes with Andrew still kneeling on the cushion.

He moved them over to the couch, sat down with a flop and an exhausted sigh. He put Andrew’s pillow right next to his left foot. “You can rest your head on my thigh if you need to, okay? You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you.”

Andrew nodded and it didn’t take him long to lay his cheek on Neil’s leg. From there, he gently slipped in and out of consciousness, giving over to Neil the way Neil knew he would. It was torture not being able to card his fingers through his blond hair, but Neil kept his arms glued to his sides, his hands balled into fists against the couch cushions. "You're amazing," he muttered instead. "So good for me."

The movie started, and then ended.

“Time for bed,” Neil announced. “Come back up,” he murmured, bending down to say the words into Andrew’s ear. When Andrew opened his eyes, he blinked them several times to situate himself. When he was fully back, Neil added, “Go into the bedroom. I’ll brush my teeth and then join you.”

Andrew almost looked like someone who was about to stand and get to his feet, but he caught himself at the last minute and remained on his knees. He crawled over to the bedroom, and for the first time all evening, Neil watched him with something very akin to love. He watched Andrew’s bare shoulders roll and flex, and he admired the way the back of his thighs moved fluidly. Even on all fours, he was gorgeous.

Neil kept his eyes locked on Andrew till he was lost from view, then got up himself and hurried into the bathroom. Three minutes later, he’d brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face.

When he entered their bedroom, Andrew was sitting on the edge of his bed with a present look in his eyes. They looked a moment at each other before Andrew said, “Red.”

Neil’s whole body relaxed. “Okay.” He went over to Andrew and sat next to him. “Let me take this off you,” he added, ghosting his hands over the collar. Andrew bowed his head to give Neil access to the clasp in his neck. When the collar was off, Andrew rolled his shoulders and twisted his head from side to side. “Can I kiss you?” Neil asked.

“Not yet,” Andrew replied.

Neil accepted this without a question. Instead, he went over to their closet and put the collar away in its designated box behind some sweaters.

Andrew was looking intently at him when he turned around again. “I got a letter,” he said in a small voice.

“A letter?”

Andrew took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “From Cass.”

Neil waited for Andrew to carry on.

“I wanted to throw it out, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Did you read it?”

“I skimmed it, but honestly? It’s just a bunch of words on a piece of paper.”

“Do you want my help throwing it out.”

Andrew’s eyes stared straight into his own. “Yes.”

They went up to the roof with a deep casserole, matches, a pack of cigarettes, and Cass’s letter. While the envelope and the one slip of paper inside it burned in the pot, sending sparks, and flames, and smoke into the air, Andrew shook two cigarettes from his pack and handed one to Neil. They sat on the edge of the roof with their backs to the fire.

“Thank you,” Andrew eventually whispered.

“I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need. Was there anything you didn’t like?”

Andrew shook his head.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

Andrew half-smiled. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

Neil beamed and surged forward to capture Andrew’s lips between his own. He kept his hands to himself though, and would until Andrew gave him permission to touch him. They stayed glued by the lips for several seconds before Neil pulled away to gaze into Andrew’s eyes. “Will you accept aftercare when we get back to the suite?”

Andrew’s answer was a heartfelt nod and nip to Neil’s lower lip.

Chapter Text

Things weren’t going well. In fact, practice was a complete shit show. Everyone was, for some godforsaken reason, tense and acting up. Kevin was more obnoxious than he usually was, Aaron cursed at Neil with renewed vigor, and Jack made sure to make his captain’s life, and of those around him, a living hell.

Halfway through, when Wymack excused himself to go take a piss, Neil strode over to the striker sub and shoved him hard into the Plexiglas wall, followed by a punch to the nose. It wasn’t a hard punch, and it didn’t break anything. It only caused mild bleeding.

Andrew, who had seen it coming, who had observed Neil slowly lose it all throughout, stepped over to him and pulled on his arm. When their eyes met, he simply said, “Walk away.”

Neil didn’t register. His eyes were vacant.

“Neil?” Andrew shook him. Nothing happened. “Abram.”

It did the trick. Neil snapped back into action, and he shoved Andrew off him.

“Walk away, junkie.”

Neil turned and marched off the court with Andrew hot on his heels. In the locker room, Neil slammed his fist into a locker and subsequently hissed. Andrew walked over to him and closed his hand around his throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t press down. It was a clear signal and Neil focused all his attention on the goalkeeper. He barely nodded, but it was there.

Neil didn’t always know he needed it, and sometimes Andrew was wrong, but he didn’t think he was right now. The cagey look in Neil’s eyes and the way he was practically chewing on his bottom lip were all well-established tells. “Neil?” Andrew repeated. “Do you need me to take care of you?” he asked, letting his voice deepen with authority.

Undeterred by the tone, Neil looked directly into Andrew’s eyes. “I still have half of practice to get through. I can’t just leave. I’m the captain.” And there it was, the root to this mess. The pressure of the upcoming semi-final against Penn State. Neil was unraveling at the seam, showing cracks in his otherwise ironclad composure.

“It doesn’t have to be a long scene. Just something to take the edge off. We’ll skip Eden’s Twilight tonight and head straight for the house. If you’re still in need of something there, you’ll tell me and we’ll discuss what can be done. Okay?”

Neil hesitated. His eyes kept wandering over to the locker room door and back to Andrew’s lips. “How not long are we talking about?” He was starting to lean into the idea, Andrew saw it clear as day.

“Ten minutes max. We don’t have the collar,” he added when he thought about it. They usually carried it with them wherever they went, but today had been a weird day. “We have the ball gag though, in my locker, and I’d like you to use it. Yes or no?”

The image of a blissed-out Neil with their blue ball gag to compliment his eyes stuck between his parted lips, spit gathering and slowly dripping down his chin, was something that never failed to entice Andrew to the fullest. He observed Neil think about it and then come to a conclusion.

“Yes. Gag me.”

Andrew was all to willing to head over to his 03 locker and take out the ball gag. He came back to Neil who had dropped to his knees of his own volition and was presenting his parted lips. Andrew slipped the blue ball between them and fastened the buckle in the back of his head. “Come with me.”

Neil stood and followed Andrew over to one of the toilet cubicles.

“Sit down and spread your legs.”

Neil sat and parted his knees as wide as he could.

“Good. I’m going to blow the fuck out of you. If after ten minutes you haven’t come, that’s too bad.”

Neil didn’t do well when on a time limit, but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge either. This way, his mind would be so far removed from his captain duties that he’d forget what exy even was. A flicker of panic sparked in his eyes.

“Say no if you don’t want to. But I know you can do it. You’ll be good for me and do what I tell you to. It’s what you want. It’s why you’re made perfectly for me,” Andrew elaborated, his dom-persona bleeding into his whole body. He was already feeling the thrill creep up his spine. He wouldn’t say it, because Neil was suffering from the pressure put on him, but this had come at a perfect time. Andrew needed it as much as Neil did.

That need had been building over the last few weeks; in fact, ever since the last time he had submitted. Back then, he’d needed Neil’s dominance like people need air to breathe, after a brutal class where the teacher had presented a case about a multiple child rapist. He had come home, trembling with both fury and pain, the ghosts from his past casting their long arms and trying to get to him, and he’d asked Neil for a scene.

That had been one intense scene. As soon as the collar had come on, Neil had ordered him to kneel, then forced his chest down and turned his head so his cheek was to the floor. Neil had then maneuvered his arms in such a way that he could bind them to his legs. Locked in an impossible position, Neil had left him like that for some time, letting him sink, before coming back with their prostate massager and forcing Andrew to come untouched. This was no small feat, because he was rarely able to come without direct stimulus to his cock. But Neil had said he could do it, so he had. Tears had been streaming down his face in freefall towards the end. Tears of freedom.

Andrew sank to his knees between Neil’s legs and kissed the corner of Neil’s mouth, feeling the ball gag against his lips, then leaned back to place his weight on his haunches. “You can’t speak, so your safewords will be to tap me twice anywhere on my body if you need me to pause, and tap once if you need us to stop. If you tap once, I’ll take the gag out and you can tell me if you want me to help you finish or if you want me to go away. If I ask for a color, and it’s green, you’ll tap three times.”

Neil nodded. Spit was already coating the corners where his lips were pulled taut around the gag.

“Show me the signal for green.”

Neil tapped Andrew’s bicep three times.

“Excellent. Show me the signal for yellow.”

Neil tapped twice.

“And for red.”

Neil tapped once, making sure it was hard enough for Andrew to feel it.

“Very good. I’ll be on the alert for them, alright? You don’t have to be afraid.” Andrew pressed up on his knees and kissed Neil’s forehead. “Promise me you’ll tap out if you need to.”

Softly, Neil nodded in agreement.

“You’ll sit perfectly still and you’ll keep your greedy hands to yourself. Any time you move, be it to flinch or thrust your hips, you’ll be adding a spank for later tonight. You’re the master of your fate,” Andrew told Neil in all seriousness. “And remember, if after ten minutes you haven’t come, I’ll walk out of here and you’ll be right behind me.”

Neil glared at Andrew.

“Nod your pretty head if you understand and agree.”

Neil kept glaring for a while, defiance still locked in him – Andrew would knock that right out of him – before nodding tersely.

“Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If Neil could have, he would’ve cussed Andrew out for that last remark. It was so amazing constricting that smart mouth of his.

“Pull your shorts down and get yourself hard for me. Your ten minutes will begin the moment my mouth is on you.”

Andrew knew how much Neil hated it when he was asked to touch himself while he was being looked at. It was too clinical, but in this case, he quickly hardened under the scrutiny. He closed his eyes and rubbed his slit with his thumb.

Andrew batted his hand away before typing the four-digit pin code on his phone to unlock it. “Your ten minutes start now,” Andrew said, pushing the button for the timer on his phone. “Tick tock,” he muttered tauntingly as he went down on Neil’s cock in one smooth, fluid motion, knowing the vibration would add to the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

Neil was being good the first few minutes, sitting perfectly still apart from his heaving chest that produced muffled moans behind the gag. Whenever Andrew looked up, he was met with an absolutely debauched striker who was submitting beautifully. Andrew loved being between Neil’s thighs, was exceptionally excellent at giving head. He’d always been good at blowjobs, ever since he’d experimented in juvie, but with Neil, through their close bond and loving relationship, he’d perfected the art.

It helped that the rush of power from being in control added to his determination. People who thought that the one on their knees was the one without the upper hand were ruefully wrong.

Neil’s good behavior slowly trickled away the closer he got to the ten-minute mark. Andrew was feeling gracious, and he warned him when there were only three minutes left. Frantic, Neil moved his head to look down on him pleadingly.

The evil smile that appeared on Andrew’s face, pulling at his cheeks, effectively tightened his lips around Neil’s cock. “One,” he murmured against the head when he came up. Behind the gag, he heard Neil mutter curses.

When only two minutes were left, Neil thrust his hips to seek his own pleasure.

“Two,” Andrew announced. When Neil did it again, he added, “Three.” He pulled off entirely for a second. “Careful rabbit.” More movement. “Four.” Then, “Five.”

Neil thrust one last time deep into Andrew’s throat, and Andrew had to pin him back with force. “You get two for that one,” he said firmly.

Eventually, Andrew took pity and he doubled his efforts to make Neil come, who finally did with a couple of handful of seconds left on the clock. Bitter, salty cum splashed down his throat, and Andrew swallowed everything down and didn’t quite relent when Neil started squirming from oversensitivity.

When the phone alarm went off, Andrew came back up for air. He immediately reached up to unbuckled the gag, and watched Neil wipe the saliva off his lips and chin while working the feeling back into his jaw. “How are you feeling?” Andrew asked, cradling Neil’s cheek in his hand. “Talk to me.”

Neil’s smile was slow in blooming, but when it came, it was blinding. “Great. Better. Thank you.”

Andrew relaxed. “Will you be able to go back out and finish practice?”

With a nod, Neil chuckled. “Yeah. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass just because you blew me.”

Andrew snorted at that. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He helped Neil to his feet and kissed him fiercely. “You did so good. I’m proud of you.”

“How many spanks?”

“Seven.”

“I can do seven.”

“I know you can,” Andrew agreed.

The rest of practice went exponentially better than the first half. No one commented on Neil’s sudden change in mood and vigor, though Kevin did frown at him more than once. The taller striker wasn’t an idiot, Andrew had to give him that. His cousin wasn’t fooled either.

Neil did not go easy on his ass. He dodged the backliners and pummeled the ball against his goal again, and again, and again. When he wasn’t doing that, he was chewing him out for slacking. It became a game between them, and Andrew often grinned at him in renditions of his once medicated smiles. It drove Neil insane but didn’t deter him.

After practice, after showering, Andrew drove them back to the Tower where they quickly packed on overnight bag. He collected a few things from their play box he didn’t show Neil, just in case Neil needed more later.

Back in the car, Andrew turned to look at Neil. “Do you want to continue?”

Neil shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll let you know.”

They stopped at a restaurant in one of the towns half a dozen miles outside of Columbia. That’s when Neil’s phone started buzzing incessantly. He groaned more than once and shoved the phone into the pocket of his PSU hoodie. “What’s going on?” Andrew asked when his milkshake arrived.

“Just some of the newbies texting about the semi-final. I don’t have the headspace for that right now.”

Andrew regarded him for a moment, then said quietly, “Yes or no?”

“To what?”

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then, yes or no?”

Neil pursed his lips. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Finish your meal so we can get back on the road.”

They were back on the road five minutes later. More texts had pinged and Neil’s mood had soured.

“Get your dick out.” Andrew ordered suddenly. They had just passed the sign for Columbia that said 2 miles. It was a good place to start this. Neil’s sudden panicked expression was worth every star in the sky. Still, Andrew asked one last time, “Yes or no?”

Neil didn’t answer. He undid the string of his sweatpants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his underwear. He pulled those down as well, and his soft cock came into view.

“Don’t touch yourself, just keep it out like this.”

Neither had a particular penchant towards exhibitionism, but the cover of the car was enough to shield them. It was the risk, small yes, but there, of someone catching an unlikely glimpse of Neil’s cock that had him blush and shift in the seat.

“Hold onto the handles,” Andrew commanded. He’d gotten two metal handles installed on either side of the passenger seat for these exact moments. “Just enjoy the ride. We’re almost there.” 

Purposely, Andrew didn’t look once at Neil the rest of the ride. He only glanced down at him when he killed the engine in the driveway of the house and was pleasantly surprised to see that the striker’s cock was now half hard and leaking slightly at the tip. “Look at you,” he cooed, running a finger along the length, then cupped Neil’s balls and tugged a little. “Let’s cover you up so we can get inside, yeah? You're indecent.”

Neil nodded.

Inside, Neil went to the bathroom to collect himself, and Andrew let him have the space. He dumped their bag in their room and padded back down the stairs to the kitchen. He found Neil’s favorite granola bars, gathered a few of them, and took a bottle of water out the fridge. He went back to their room with the small hoard, then backtracked and got a few more things from the kitchen.

It was unclear whether Neil needed to play some more, but in case he wanted to, Andrew prepared the things he needed for the aftercare.

Finally, Neil stepped into the bedroom as well. “I need you to make it hurt a little. Not too much.” His phone was in his hand. And he was naked.

“Explain.”

“Discomfort. To take my mind off things. No impact play, or clamps of any sort.”

“What about the spanking? You still need to be punished for disobeying my orders earlier,” Andrew pointed out. If Neil said no, though, he wouldn’t push but postpone it.

“The spanking is fine.”

Andrew nodded, already thinking of something that would fit Neil’s demands. “I can tie your arms behind you back and have you lie on them. The longer you’re in that position, the more it’ll hurt. Yes?”

“That’s perfect. Can you not restrain my legs tonight?”

“Of course. I’ll get you the collar in a bit.” Andrew’s brain was working. “I want to edge you.”

Neil looked away. “Yes. I want that too.” A thought flickered in and out of Neil’s eyes. “I don’t want to get fucked,” he told, casting his eyes down at the admission.

“Toys?”

“Nothing too big.”

“Okay.”

With that agreed upon, Andrew went over to their bag and took out their collar. “Tonight, you’re allowed to talk. I want you to. I want to hear your pretty little voice.”

Neil nodded.

“Give me your eyes.”

Neil looked at him.

“There you are. Do you trust me to take care of you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me to know what you need and give it to you?”

“Yes,” Neil repeated.

Andrew put the collar on him and traced the skin of Neil’s throat just above it. “Color?”

“Green.”

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes.”

“Get on the bed and present yourself.”

Present yourself simply meant on all fours, weight on the forearms, ass in the air, and legs spread. So that’s the position Neil got into, no fuss, no muss. He was gorgeous like that. Bowed open. Vulnerable. Strong runner thighs. Cock hanging heavy between his legs, pointing at the mattress, not quite hard yet. “You look stunning right now,” Andrew said in awe. He walked over to Neil and ran a finger down his spine, across his left ass-cheek, past the curve, and down his thighs to the inside of his knee. Neil shivered. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll get your punishment first. Then I’ll tie your wrists together in your back, and finally, I’ll edge you till you’re a crying, begging mess. I’ll let you cum when I feel you’re ready, and not a moment before.”

Neil nodded, but from his position, Andrew couldn’t see it well enough.

“Your words, pretty boy. I need verbal confirmation.”

“Yes. It’s green.”

Andrew stepped out of his pants but kept everything else on. “Very good. You’ll get the first four spanks like this,” he explained, placing his hand gently on Neil’s ass and fanning his fingers out. “And for the last three, you’ll lie over my knees. You’ll be counting them.” He took his hand away. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Ax. Yellow. Red. I’m not saying them.”

“Will you say them if it becomes too much?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, try not to move too much.”

Andrew pulled his hand back and brought it forth again, hitting the tender flesh of Neil’s ass. It was a perfect hit, and it resonated in the room. Sweet, sweet music. Just a surface strike to begin with. He allowed Neil a moment to recover and count.

“One.”

The second strike was harder, firmer, and sounded even better. Neil breathed through it.

“Two.”

Andrew kept to the same ass-cheek for the third strike, and he smiled to himself when Neil flinched and gasped.

“Three.”

Blood rose to the surface on Andrew’s fourth strike, a pretty pink, and Neil’s muscles tensed against the impact.

“Four.”

“You’re doing so well. I’m proud of you. Now for the three last ones,” Andrew said calmly. He sat down on the edge of the bed and helped Neil get into position. Neil stretched his body in full and laid his head on his crossed arms, his breathing heavy and waiting. “You know how you’re supposed to lie,” he told Neil when Neil had forgotten one crucial thing. Neil cursed under his breath and adjusted his position, letting his cock, now half hard, hang between Andrew’s thighs. For the oversight, Andrew made sure to squeeze his thighs together. “Remember to count.”

Andrew smacked Neil’s ass hard, and Neil cried out. “Count, Neil,” he ordered forcefully when Neil didn’t.

“Five,” Neil said.

The next two strikes were powerful, and Neil’s voice caught both times he counted.

As soon as it was over, Andrew bent down to kiss the flesh of Neil’s ass.

“You did so good for me. You accepted the punishment so well.”

Neil hummed and didn’t move.

“Give me your arms.”

With a sigh, Neil painstakingly crossed his wrists behind his back and gave himself over to the silk ropes Andrew had placed next to them strategically. When Andrew was sure they held secure but wouldn’t cut off any blood flow, he flipped Neil over and pushed him to the middle of the bed. Neil yelped at the sudden manhandling.

The position, lying on his bound arms, wasn’t a comfortable one, but Andrew didn’t care. Neil had requested it, so he was getting it. He left him there for a few minutes while he went over to gather an important item from his bag. Neil had said no to fucking, and no to anything to big. It was perfect then that Andrew had grabbed the small, but powerful, remote controlled vibrating egg from their stash at the dorm.

Andrew knew how well Neil’s body responded to that kind of stimulation. Knew the torture it would be to be denied orgasm after orgasm under such conditions. He couldn’t wait.

In his position, Neil was unable to lift his head enough to see what Andrew pressed against his asshole, and he gasped loudly when his ass sucked the egg right in, smooth and slick with lube Andrew had also grabbed from the bag.

“You know what that is?”

“Yes,” Neil answered, his eyes closing.

“So you know what it does?”

“Yes,” Neil repeated.

“I want to see you ruined, Neil. I want to see you fall apart, so I can put you back together.” He smiled wolf-like. “I want to hear you beg.”

Neil hummed appreciatively, and Andrew surged down to kiss him. Right when his tongue pried Neil’s lips apart and invaded his mouth, he took hold of the remote and turned the vibrations on. He knew he’d placed the egg correctly when Neil shouted in surprise and pleasure.

“That’s it, don’t hold back.”

Next thing, Andrew pushed a firm hand down on Neil’s chest and took the tip of the striker’s cock in his mouth. He suckled it a few times, relishing Neil’s whimpers and groans, then sank down to the hilt. Neil’s instinctive reaction was to thrust up in search of more.

“Settle down,” Andrew ordered harshly. “Or I’ll leave you like this.”

Neil stopped moving immediately.

The moment Andrew felt a swelling in his mouth, he pulled back and turned the egg off.

“You motherfucker,” Neil cursed. He thrust his hips up again, but with Andrew having removed himself, he was fucking air and nothing else.

“Tsk tsk, that’s not a nice way to talk to someone, pretty boy.”

Andrew turned the egg back on and dragged a fingernail along the length of Neil’s cock, the head of which was a lovely shade of angry pink and leaking profusely at the tip. Every drag of his nail made Neil shiver and breathe louder. Andrew bent further down to lick around the rim of Neil’s hole, teasing the egg by pulling on the retractable string with his lips.

The moment Neil’s toes started curling, Andrew yanked the egg out and stopped touching him. By then, Neil’s chest was heaving and his whimpers got stuck in his throat. It was intoxicating to watch his hole tremble and clench around nothing. It was time for the next phase.

Andrew climbed out of bed and grabbed the long, thin vibrator from his bag, and with a devilish smile looked at Neil and showed him what was in store for him. Neil muttered curses.

Slowly, Andrew worked the vibrator inside Neil’s ass, turned it on, and started with shallow thrusts that weren’t doing nearly enough for Neil, who, right on cue, started asking for more, for harder and deeper. Andrew just chuckled but otherwise ignored him.

When Andrew jammed the toy as far deep inside Neil as it would go, he started fucking Neil with it in earnest. A light sheen of sweat broke across Neil’s skin, and his chest gasped for breath. He was starting to squirm from the pressure against his arms, trying to turn this and that way to alleviate the strain.

On the cusp of another build, Andrew turned the vibrator off.

“More,” Neil begged shakily. “Just – I want – more.”

“Oh, no, babe. You know that’s not how this works.”

Through gritted teeth, Neil bit out bitterly, “You said you’d take care of me, give me what I need.”

“Yes. What you need. Not what you want. Take what is given to you and be grateful. Don’t be rude.”

“Andrew,” Neil whined when Andrew suddenly tightened his fist around the head of his cock.

“Neil.”

Tears built in Neil’s eyes, and he blinked them away. He was teetering close to a limit and Andrew observed him like a hawk. “Can you, can you then –”

“What do you need?” Andrew asked, leaning over Neil’s flushed and exhausted body.

“Yellow,” Neil’s small voice managed to croak.

Instantly, Andrew removed his hands from Neil’s body. He froze for a second before schooling his expression and devoting all of his attention to the striker who’d just safeworded. “Neil?”

Neil shook his head violently. “I just. I just need, a moment,” he said. He blinked in rapid succession, trying to focus his eyes on Andrew’s eyes. “Can you?”

“Anything, Neil.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to come.” Neil took a deep, shuddery breath. “Can you put a ring on me?”

Slowly, Andrew smiled. There didn’t exist a world in which he would have all the words to describe how wildly he loved his rabbit. How utterly proud he was of him. Of them. Of everything they’d fought, side by side, in order to have this. This trust. This loyalty. This feeling of home.

“Which one would you like?” he asked Neil.

“The leather one. Sturdy. Not the vibrating one.”

“Wait here a moment,” Andrew said before getting off the bed and over to his dresser. In the lower drawer, in a box, was their collection of simple toys and gadgets, including the brown, leather cock ring Neil was requesting. He took it out of the box and looked at it. It would definitely do the trick.

When he came back to the bed, he climbed in and put the entire cock ring in his mouth to lather it in his saliva. He took it out again and, with some difficulty and no small amount of determination, slipped it on Neil’s cock down to the base. As soon as it was on, Neil sighed deeply.

“Color?” Andrew asked gently.

“Green.”

Andrew pursed his lips. “I need a number from one to five.”

“One,” Neil supplied. “I’m good, I swear. Just get back to work.”

Andrew swatted the outside of his thigh. “You don’t tell me what to do.” He turned the vibrator back on and upped the vibrations to their penultimate setting. Neil cried out deliciously. “What was that?” Andrew taunted, gripping Neil’s cock again. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” he added when all Neil was able to do was writhe and stutter.

On and on it went for another good ten minutes. Neil was slowly passing into his non-verbal state where he became unbelievably pliant and accommodating. Andrew loved him like that, loved that he was the one to help the striker let go. “Take it, junkie. You can last a bit longer. I know you can.”

However, after a particularly brutal orgasm cut-off, Neil stammered a pained, “Yellow.”

Andrew drew back and stopped everything he was doing. Neil was full-on crying while obviously hating himself for having safeworded when Andrew had specifically told him he could do this. “Neil?” he asked gently.

With eyes that were brimming with tears, Neil looked at him with such worry Andrew could only bend over him and kiss his eyes, tasting salty water on the tip of his tongue. “Neil,” he repeated reverently, no longer a question. Neil hiccupped. “You’ve safeworded twice.”

“I just need a moment,” Neil promised between two shaky breaths. “I swear. It was just too much at once. I’ll be good, soon.”

“No. I’m ending the scene, love.” The term of endearment was still relatively new to Andrew, still tasted weird in his mouth, but it was exactly what Neil was – love incarnate. No other word was strong enough.

“You can’t,” Neil pleaded.

“I can, and I am. I know you. I know when your body has reached its limit. Going on would be a form of self-harm on your part, and you know I can’t accept that,” Andrew reasoned.

Neil listened and somewhere in the back of his mind, Andrew knew, he agreed and was relieved. “Can you, at least?” he tried to look down to where his cock was hard and angry.

“Of course. I’ll get you off. But no more domination. Now, it’s just you and me.” He fiddled with the cock ring and asked Neil to take deep breaths and relax so he could take it off.

Neil sobbed. “Fuck me,” he asked.

“That’s also a no, Neil. You said your limit was fucking.”

“I’m changing it.”

“You’re not in the right headspace to change it.” Andrew took his t-shirt off and moved to straddle Neil. “Do you want me to untie you?”

Neil shook his head.

“Okay.”

“I need you close,” Neil admitted.

Andrew slowly draped himself over Neil, giving Neil plenty of time to protest if he couldn’t take all the skin-on-skin contact, but when Neil didn’t, when he sighed with relief, Andrew kissed him. He waited for Neil to kiss him back, then said against his lips, “I love you.” Neil’s response was to deepen the kiss. “Do you want me to get us off together?”

“Would you?”

“Yes. I need you too.”

With one more yes of consent, he snaked his hand in the tiny space between them, pulled his cock out of his boxers, and aligned it with Neil’s. Both were equally hard and red, Neil’s from continued stimulation and Andrew’s from complete lack of stimulation. It didn’t take many strokes for both of them to come.

Neil gasped and shook. Then his body gave up and let go, sinking deep into the mattress, no longer functioning. “I need, I need,” he muttered, his eyes drifting in and out of focus.”

“You can sleep, Neil,” Andrew murmured back.

“Stay?”

“Always. You’re safe,” Andrew whispered. He rolled off and laid himself down next to Neil, then gathered the striker’s body in his arms, quickly untied his wrists, and held him close.

Neil went out like a light.

Chapter Text

The first thing Neil became aware of was the faint smell of his favorite pillow mist – lavender with a dash of lemongrass. The message was clear. The scene was over and they had progressed to the next phase of the evening. The thought alone was fuzzy and warm, and he wanted to bask in it for as long as he could.

The next thing he realized, was that the vibrator in his ass had been removed. He remembered Andrew turning it off but not taking it out. He also remembered passing out to the gentle combing of Andrew’s fingers in his hair, to his voice telling him he was safe, and to tears prickling his eyes.

The third thing that made itself known was the fact that Andrew had cleaned him off. Their cum, which had been prayed across Neil’s chest, was long gone, and the lube-stickiness between his ass cheeks and thighs had been wiped off as well. To think that Andrew had gone through the motions of doing all this was enough to knock Neil on his ass.

He tightened his arms, realizing they were slung around Andrew.

Andrew hummed directly into his hair and whispered something he couldn’t yet focus on. He just clutched his partner harder.

“Neil, my love, it’s time to come back up,” Andrew’s voice eventually cut through. It carved itself a path through the jumble in Neil’s mind to ring with soft assurance in his ears. Mmmm? was all Neil was able to reply. “I’d like you to come back to me now,” Andrew’s voice answered.

It didn’t quite make sense. Neil was with Andrew. He was right here, where he belonged. Where he was safe. Where he mattered. Where he was allowed to be small and in need of care.

The fourth thing Neil remembered was simple. An admission. I love you.

They didn’t say it often, but when they did, the world trembled beneath their feet and universes were born around them. It held that much power. And it was a crime that he hadn’t said it back. He tried to open his mouth and return the declaration, but he could barely part his lips, let alone make his vocal cords function.

“Are you thirsty?” Andrew’s voice asked.

Instantly parched, Neil croaked out a weak grunt, a would-be yes.

“Can I help you sit?”

“Y-es,” Neil mumbled.

Next thing he knew, strong arms were propping him against two fluffy pillows. “Look at me,” Andrew said quietly. Neil obeyed, finally opening his eyes. The hazel of Andrew’s irises was golden and warm, and Neil came back up. “There you are, handsome.”

“I love you too,” Neil blurted out, tears coming to the surface of his eyes, obstructing his vision of the one face that meant the world to him.

Andrew wiped them away. “I know you do.”

“I didn’t say it,” Neil pointed out, panicked.

“We’ve never had to say it for it to be true.”

“How long was I out?”

Andrew didn’t answer right away, just held the bottle to Neil’s lips to help him drink.

“More,” Neil asked when Andrew started drawing away.

When half the bottle was gone, Andrew took Neil’s face in his hands. “I will never stop loving you.”

Neil brought his hands up to mirror Andrew’s against Andrew’s own face. “Same,” he whispered before leaning in and pressing their lips together. It was a chaste kiss, a mere brush, and it was more powerful than all the other things they had done earlier.

For years and years, Neil had believed there was something so fundamentally wrong with him that he’d started avoiding every form of social contact. Now, he was resting in his identity. He wasn’t one for touch the way most people were, wasn’t one for overly grand gestures of devotion and love. His peace lay in the little things, the things that could easily be overlooked by the untrained eye.

And Andrew, Andrew had never pushed for more. Had never forcefully carved a place for himself where there wasn’t room. He’d been patient, letting Neil put the piece of the puzzle together at his own pace, then stepped inside the fortress once the door had been opened to him.

So, yes, the gentle, barely-there touch of lips against lips was powerful and it set his skin aflame. And When Andrew pulled back instead of deepening the kiss, he died a little on the inside with how lucky he was.

“Are you hungry?”

At that precise moment, Neil’s stomach growled loudly, and it was so silly, so ridiculous, that he laughed. The vibrations in his throat were uncomfortable and raw, but he kept going, clutching Andrew’s bicep. “Yeah, I am,” he eventually managed to put into human speech.

“I’ve got your favorite,” Andrew announced. He gently extracted himself from Neil’s still mainly dead form and opened the bedside table drawer where he’d stashed all of Neil’s favorite snacks and fruits. He proceeded to handfeed him everything until not a crumb was left in sight.

With the energy provided in the food, Neil’s limbs came back to life.

He found that he was delightfully sore on his ass-cheeks from Andrew’s punishment, but he also noted that he’d had way worse before. His shoulders were aching dully from having been restrained for some time, but it was nothing that wouldn’t disappear with a good night’s sleep. There were no signs of the binds on his wrists. Distantly, he knew Andrew would want to discuss why he had safeworded yellow twice, but that would have to wait. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure why.

For now, he was perfectly content being with Andrew.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Andrew asked. He made sure not to blanket Neil too much with his body.

To both of their surprise, their aftercare needs were quite different and not how they would have imagined. Andrew was the one who needed constant touch, constant presence and reassurance. Andrew was the one who needed to know he’d done well, and that Neil was proud of him. Neil’s needs were more abstract – just a general sense of safety and of being taken care of.

“My eyes are too heavy. Will you read to me from your book instead?”

Andrew beamed at him and nodded. He excused himself a moment to go fetch his book from the living room, then came back. He tucked Neil in and wrapped an extra blanket around him – he tended to run a little cold after a scene – and then settled next to him. To the soft tone of his voice, Neil drifted to sleep with a smile on his face.

He was alone in bed the next morning, but that wasn’t something new. It wasn’t uncommon, unfortunately, for Andrew to go through a night of insomnia after having pushed Neil through to his limits, but it only took Neil straining his ears to hear the soft hum of the television in the living room. Naked still, he tightened the blanket around him and padded down the stairs.

Andrew’s eyes were already turned to the door when Neil entered the room, and he smiled with relief. “You’re looking good,” he said softly.

“I’m feeling good,” Neil assured him. “Why are you not in bed?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Neil came over to the couch and dropped down on it, sitting sideways to look at Andrew full-on. “Did you get any sleep?”

“I did,” Andrew answered serenely. “Birdsong woke me. Could fall back asleep. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

Andrew smiled hesitantly. “Yes. I promise.”

It was good enough for Neil. They were long past the days of lying to protect the other. “Andrew?” he asked. Andrew hummed low in his throat. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Unlike the night before, this kiss was wild and deep, hauntingly searing and earth shattering. “You said no to fucking me last night? Does that still count now?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew answered, pulling his head a few inches back. “Are you sure?”

Neil cupped Andrew’s jaw. “I am.”

“Then no, it doesn’t still count. Will you ride me?”

With a bright chuckle, Neil nodded eagerly and straddled Andrew’s lap, cocooning them both in the blanket. There was lube in the coffee table drawer, and slowly, Andrew opened Neil up for him. They looked in each other’s eyes deeply and breathed in tandem. Their skin glistened with the beginning of a light sheen of sweat, and when Andrew deemed Neil open enough, he asked, “Yes or no?”

“It’s yes, Andrew.” And with that, he sank down on Andrew’s cock, feeling it fill him up and stretch him wide. A shudder wracked through his body the moment he bottomed out, and tears of victory filled his eyes.

Nearly always, the aftermath of intense scenes ended in the displays of tenderness neither Neil nor Andrew had thought themselves capable of, and as Neil undulated his lips in Andrew’s lap and peppered kisses down the column of his throat, he thanked whatever brush of luck, or deity, had brought them together.

Chapter Text

Andrew was nervous and fidgety, his breathing uncomfortably constricted behind the lump in the back of his throat despite his best efforts to silently scold himself. Neil was late, and although he’d sent a message ahead of him, the unexpected extra time was unnerving.

The scene had been carefully mapped and agreed upon a few days earlier, and until last night, Andrew had been looking forward to it, had been lying sleepless because his mind was running over each detail planned. It wasn’t an intense sense by any standards, wasn’t heavy in any sense, didn’t include props or restraints, but included some of Andrew’s favorite ways to submit.

It was therefore a blow to him that he was feeling nervous and oddly apprehensive. Probably, it was just the side effect from missing Neil who’d had to join Wymack on a trip out of state to try and recruit a new dealer for the Foxes.

It wasn’t often that Andrew found himself missing Neil, simply because it was rare for them to be more than half a day away from each other.

Yes. That must be it. He was just missing his rabbit, craving his attention, and touch, and words.

Neil had a wonderful way with words. A couple of months ago, they had discovered how much Andrew got off on Neil running his mouth, speaking absolute filth, spinning tales from thin air of promises to destroy Andrew in the best way possible. Of course, most of the things he said would never come to pass, they were too extreme, but just hearing them was enough. There existed no faster way to make Andrew give himself over blindly and let himself float in the limbo place of neither here nor there. That place was his, and his alone, and with Neil physically there next to him, he was safe in that place.

His phone rang suddenly, jolting him out of his thoughts, and when he saw the word Rabbit written across the screen, he connected the call. “I’m five minutes away. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s okay,” Andrew half-lied. He killed the call.

Five minutes,

He knew the protocol.

If he decided he wasn’t feeling up for the scene he needed only leaving their collar unattended on the small, round antique table by the front door. Neil wouldn’t comment, wouldn’t frown but wholeheartedly accept his decision. They’d do what they normally did when Neil came home late: take-out, wine, a movie, showering together, maybe sex in bed, if they were in the mood, then spooning, and sleep.

But that was not what Andrew had been looking forward to.

He pulled the collar from the bottom drawer of their dresser, traced the soft-worn leather with a finger, undressed, and went to kneel in the middle of the living room. He placed the collar, unbuckled (another sign of his willingness) next to his bent right knee.

The simple act of kneeling, naked and alone and waiting, calmed him down a smidgen.

He’d always liked being on his knees; but this, this would always be like toeing the line of dangerous. Kneeling with the intent, the need, the want to submit was still frightening, and therefore exactly why he yearned for it. Because it was Neil who got to tower over him. Only Neil.

Always Neil.

Andrew’s heart jack-hammered in his chest, crawling up his throat, and he went through the scene in his mind. Knowing in advance what was going to happen helped. Having decided, together, what would happen, and what wouldn’t, was an intimate thing. They were in this together.

The key fitting into the lock on the front door snapped his entire body to attention and pushed it into a wild frenzy. He curled his hand in his lap and bowed his head respectfully. It helped soothe him.

Neil kicked his shoes off and dropped the keys in the multi-purpose bowl on the table where loose change and packs of gum were amassed at the bottom. When he came into the living room, all Andrew was able to see where his socked feet.

Neil came closer, his breathing steady, then crouched down, hooking a gentle finger under Andrew’s chin and tilting his head up. Their eyes met. “Hi,” he said lovingly. “I’ve missed you, you have no idea.” He removed his finger and Andrew knew to keep his head held high. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Neil’s approving smile was bright. “Okay, handsome. You remember everything you discussed?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything you want to change, add, or take out?”

No! Everything is perfect. “No.”

“Alright. Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Neil studied his face a moment before holding his head in both hands and crushing their lips together. He didn’t open his mouth or add tongue into the kiss. “Did you miss me too?”

Speaking past the lump in his throat, Andrew said hoarsely, “Yes.”

“I’ll take care of you. You can let go. Will you let go for me?”

“I want to.”

“That’s all I ask of you.” Neil grabbed hold of the collar. “When this goes on, we will begin.”

Andrew nodded, then frowned when Neil handed him the collar.

“Put it on. I’ll just change into something more comfortable,” Neil explained.

Andrew shook his head, chest collapsing on an exhale.

“No?”

Andrew hesitated only a moment before trying to give the collar back.

“You want me to put it on you?” Neil questioned. Andrew held his breath hopefully. His hope crashed and died when Neil said, “No,” with authority. He traced a semi-circle around Andrew’s bare throat. “If you want the scene, you will do exactly as I tell you. Put the collar on yourself, tight – I want you to really feel it – and then keep your hands in your back where they belong.”

Neil’s deepening voice was intoxicating. Andrew nodded and kept the collar in his hand.

“Be good for me, Andrew, and I’ll reward you generously at the end.” And with that he stood and walked over to their bedroom.

Andrew fiddled with the collar briefly, then wrapped it around his throat. He was a smart man who knew how to wrangle what he wanted out of people, damned be the consequences, so he didn’t tighten the collar as much as Neil had requested. This way, Neil would have no choice but to do it for him.

With a tsk, Neil grabbed Andrew’s hair and pulled his head back when he had changed into some sweatpants and white t-shirt, and taken his socks off. Andrew gasped at the sudden pins and needles prickling his calp. His throat was pulled taut, and Neil slipped a finger beneath the collar. “This isn’t tight enough, Andrew. Are you trying to disobey me?”

“No.” I just really need it to be you who do it.

Neil shook his head and bent to undo the clasp of the collar. He tightened the leather and then buckled it in place so it dug into Andrew’s flesh.

Andrew gasped a second time. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Color?”

“Green, Neil. Green.”

Neil carded his fingers through Andrew’s hair, teasing the fingernails over his scalp, and Andrew shivered. “Can you tell me your safewords?”

“No. Yellow, for pause. Red, for stop.”

“Are you using them?”

“I am not.”

“Will you use them if you need to pause or stop?”

“Of course,” Andrew agreed without missing a single beat.

Neil’s fingers travelled all the way to the back of Andrew’s neck where he pulled on the hairs. “What’s the first thing on the agenda?” he asked sweetly.

“You’re going to fuck my face.”

“And?”

“And I will let you.”

Neil beamed down on him. “Your eyes must be on me at all times. You don’t necessarily need to keep eye contact, unless I require it, but you’ll look at my face the whole time.”

This wasn’t so much a rule as it was a precaution. Neil’s scars and eyes were so unique that looking at them kept Andrew from spiraling.

“You know what happens if you forget.”

Andrew nodded.

“Can you recite your non-verbal safewords?”

Andrew did. Three taps anywhere on Neil’s body for green. Two taps for yellow. And one hard tap, or a shove for that matter, for immediate stop.

“Alright then. Let’s get this show on the road.” He undid the string of his sweatpants and pulled the garment down just enough to release his swollen erection. “Open your mouth wide and relax your throat.” He cradled Andrew’s jaw in his hand, touching and holding him reverently, and slowly he guided his cock inside Andrew’s mouth with his other hand.

The sigh of relief that escaped Andrew was pure and raw, coming from a well buried deep where access was a rare thing.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good,” Neil praised right off the bat, caressing Andrew’s cheek with his thumb. He drove his cock in deep and Andrew had to lift his head a little to get the angle right, helping himself and Neil along. “So amazing, my Andrew.”

Neil built a rhythm slowly but consistently. He moved his hips in precise and measured rolls, grunting here and there. He mirrored his first hand on Andrew’s jaw with his other on the opposite jaw, holding Andrew in place, allowing him nowhere to go. It was deliriously good.

In this scene, they had decided that Neil ought to dom Andrew proactively. So he slowly withdrew his entire cock from Andrew’ mouth, crouched down to look at his sub, making Andrew’s heart soar in his chest, and whispered a quiet, “Yes or no?”

Andrew nodded, feeling Neil’s index finger trace his bottom lip from corner to corner.

“I’m going to go harder now. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

Neil erected himself, fisted Andrew’s hair so Andrew could feel it, and pushed in deep. They were just getting started, and Andrew could feel his junkie slip into his position of provider and carer, giving Andrew no quarters. In the whirlwind of everything Neil was and of everything he gave him, Andrew accidentally closed his eyes, taking Neil’s full length.

He didn’t realize until it was too late and Neil pulled back.

When Andrew opened his eyes and he met Neil’s, Neil was looking at him with softness, not disappointment.

It’s time to submit, a small voice at the back of Andrew’s mind whispered to him, borne on the winds of his pleasure and arousal.

Just submit.

“My love,” Neil tutted. “I warned you.”

Andrew nodded.

“You know what happens now?”

Andrew nodded again.

“I need you to tell me.”

“You have to punish me for disobeying a directive,” Andrew said automatically.

Neil smiled with pride. “Close your mouth, Andrew. Clench your jaw, or it’ll hurt too much.”

Andrew did what Neil told him to.

The sound of the slap was worse than the sting permeating his cheek.

“Stud,” Neil said, stroking Andrew’s flaming cheek. “You’re not learning from your mistakes.”

Shit. Neil was right. He’d closed his eyes again. “Sorry,” Andrew replied politely. He opened his eyes.

“That’s alright. Just don’t do it again. Clench your jaw. Make sure to keep you tongue away from your teeth.”

Andrew did all of those things too, with the added element of looking straight into Neil’s eyes. Neil chuckled before slapping him hard across the cheek. The first strike had been burning, the second one was blistering. It nudged a little chink out of Andrew’s defense, and he dropped just a little lower. But not enough. Something was holding him back.

“Can I kiss you?” Neil asked after a few moments of silence in which the echo of the slap seemed to never die.

Andrew raised his chin in open and eager invitation. Neil bent low to kiss him passionately. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and focused. When he spoke, his voice was deep and sultry. When he licked his lips, his grin was wolfish. “I’m going to make you choke on my dick, and you will like it. You will thank me for it. And you will not fight me. You’ll let me guide your head any way I want it.”

Andrew nodded; he wanted that, so bad. His brain always switched off when Neil took control and used his mouth for his own pleasure.

Submit.

“I know your limits. And I want to push them. Trust in me. Don’t be scared. Just let me use you. It’s why you put on the collar. It’s why you’re on your knees.”

Neil’s fingers tightened unforgivingly in Andrew’s hair, and he yanked his head so his mouth was back on his cock. “There you go,” Neil encouraged. He didn’t stop there. He kept yanking, hard and rough, until Andrew’s nose was pressed flat against his pubes, then rocked his hips forward so the head of his cock slipped as far down Andrew’ throat as humanly possible.

Instantly, tears rose to Andrew’s eyes, and he coughed around the intrusion. Bit by bit, he started choking, just like Neil had promised him he would, but instead of panicking, he allowed Neil to hold him hostage.

Submit.

Submit.

Andrew tried. He wanted to let go, wanted to disappear for a little while. But something was holding him back.

Why won’t you submit? his mind asked him desperately. His sanity was pounding on the steel bars of his mind’s cage, frantic. Meanwhile, Neil kept fucking his face with abandon.

“You like this,” Neil noted with amusement, his voice coming from beyond Andrew’s inner voice. His foot suddenly bore down on Andrew’s hard cock. He rubbed the head with his toes, then pressed down on the shaft. “Just look at you. Desperate for any little touch. Doesn’t matter that it’s my foot, does it? You would rut against it if I gave you permission. You’d get my foot dirty, and then trust me, I would make you clean it up with your tongue after.”

Instead of giving Andrew permission to grind up, he maneuvered his cock so it lay against his thigh and pressed down on the base. Then he moved his foot to toy with Andrew’s balls. It should have gone straight to Andrew’s brain. The dirty words should have pushed him under. Being held captive and unable to move should have signed off on his death warrant.

All he felt instead was the maddening pleasure building, but none of the fog he craved.

Andrew’s body went pliant, but he wasn’t relaxed in his skin and his mind was still too sharp.

Skillfully, Neil kept talking to him while never faltering in his hips’ snapping. Eventually, it became too much for him, who shoved in deep, choking Andrew, before withdrawing enough to almost pull away entirely. He left the head of his cock on the tip of Andrew’s tongue and came in ropes of warm, salty cum.

“Keep it in your mouth until I tell you to swallow.”

Without adding anything further, Neil pulled his pants back up and left him in the living room, kneeling, naked, hard as a rock, and with a mouthful of cum he wasn’t allowed to swallow. The striker knew exactly how to push him and treat him.

For minutes, Andrew sat obediently. Neil’s cum was bitter on his tongue, and runny, and Andrew’s saliva quickly joined the mix, and it was filthy and exhilarating. So why wasn’t it working?

Submit.

The voice at the back of Andrew’s mind became increasingly agitated, almost panicked. Why couldn’t he do this?

When Neil finally came back, he had a hoard of things in his arms. He went over to the couch, plopped the things down on the coffee table, and then turned to Andrew. “Come over here. On your hands and knees.”

A string of shivers ran down Andrew’s spine as he lowered his hands to the floor and started crawling over to Neil.

When he was close enough, Neil chuckled. “Stop. Open your mouth. Show me how good you’ve been.”

Andrew opened his mouth, revealing Neil’s load still resting on his tongue. He knew what came next, but it was still a thrill when Neil stuck two of his fingers inside Andrew’s mouth to rub the liquid all along his tongue. He unceremoniously slid his fingers down into Andrew’s throat and commanded, “You may swallow. Don’t spill a drop.”

Submit.

It wasn’t easy swallowing around the two digits and he choked a bit on the cum as he was finally allowing gravity to do its work. For good measure, Neil pressed his fingers in a bit deeper before pulling them out again.

“You didn’t spill. I’m proud of you. You’ve done so good. Do you want your reward now?”

Andrew nodded desperately.

“On the couch then, stud. Spread your legs. You’re not allowed to touch me, and you can only come when I have given you permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Color?”

“Green.”

Neil nodded, helped Andrew down on the couch, and dropped to his knees between Andrew’s spread legs. The sight was dizzying. The mop of flaming hair and the blue eyes like ice were Andrew’s favorite things to look at. He wanted to run his fingers through the locks, wanted to pull Neil’s face up to him and kiss him, wanted Neil to taste himself on his tongue and lips.

But he didn’t have permission to do so.

Instead, Neil smirked at him and took his cock in his mouth. Immediately, the feeling of Neil’s wet and warm mouth was bordering on too much. “I won’t last,” he warned in a broken voice.

“Thank you for telling me,” Neil said, kissing the tip lovingly when he came back up for air. “But you’re wrong. You will last for as long as I tell you too.” He squeezed the base of Andrew’s cock to make a point.

Submit, goddammit!

Despite his ominous words, Neil didn’t wait long before dealing Andrew the fatal blow and telling him to come. Andrew threw his head back and cried out silently while his toes curled to the point of almost cramping. It went on for a while – Andrew coming and Neil sucking him dry.

Then Neil crawled into Andrew’s lap and tilted his chin up. When their lips met, Andrew dutifully opened his mouth and Neil transferred his own cum into his mouth, pushing it in with his tongue.

The moment he swallowed his own load, the scene ended.

And it was anticlimactic to say the least.

Instantly, Neil’s eyes were on him, observing and keen, searching for any signs he’d gone too far. He always did this. Then his hands cupped his cheeks, holding his face in place, almost like he had before the face fucking, and he blinked at Andrew slowly. He was on his toes, that much was for sure; Neil wasn’t an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” Andrew muttered, white-hot shame burning in his blood. “I couldn’t do it.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Andrew; you were perfect.”

“I couldn’t let go. I tried. I wanted to. But I couldn’t.” Andrew’s breath rattled in his chest. “You asked me to, and I didn’t.”

“I asked you, yes, and you said you would try. And that is all I can, and ever will, truly ask of you,” Neil gently corrected him. He reached behind him to grab a cold bottle of Sprite, uncapped it, and helped Andrew drink some of the soda. “Listen to me,” he added. “Maybe you didn’t achieve the level of submission you wanted, but you still did everything I asked of you. The one time you didn’t, you took your punishment beautifully.” He worried his upper lip between his teeth and chewed it a moment. “You didn’t safeword.”

“I didn’t need to.”

Neil nodded, then he asked seriously, “Were my words too harsh?”

“No.”

“Andrew,” Neil pressed.

“They weren’t, Neil. They nearly got me there.”

“Do you promise me?”

“Always.”

“If you realize, later, that they were too much, will you tell me then?”

“Of course.”

Neil leaned his forehead against Andrew’s. “I haven’t been able to sleep the past two nights without you,” he breathed softly. Andrew held his rabbit to his chest. “You are my home, and I feel lost when I am away from you.”

A shy laugh crept up the back of Andrew’s throat. “I’ve missed you so bad too. I slept in your ridiculous team jersey.”

Neil laughed heartily. “You did not.”

Andrew shrugged.

“I’d like to see that.”

“If you’re good and hand me that chocolate, you might.”

Neil kissed him after a consenting nod. “I’ll be so good. I’ll bathe you, feed you, even watch your ridiculous late night shows you like so much.”

With a sigh, Andrew settled in his body. Neil removed the collar from around his throat carefully. And as the rest of the evening progressed, he realized he hadn’t needed to submit, all he had truly needed was Neil’s closeness, and he’d gotten that tenfold.

When they went to bed, he put on Neil’s jersey, earning him a kiss like never before, and they fell asleep snuggled close together.

Chapter Text

It sucked. Loosing sucked. It hurt, and he was powerless against blaming himself. As captain it was his responsibility, his duty to secure a well-functioning team, a well-oiled machine. But that night, they had been anything but. It didn’t matter that Robin had assured him he was being an idiot for being so harsh on himself, didn’t matter the point she made – winning is a team effort, you always say that, so losing is a team effort too. It’s not one man’s doing. It didn’t matter that Andrew had glared at him and told him, stop this with his usual commanding tone. It didn’t matter that Nicky had side-hugged in solidarity, or that Dan had called with comforting words of (underserved) affirmation.

They had lost. And it was his fault. Simple as that.

Andrew had driven the two of them to the house in Columbia without the others, and no one had protested the decision. They knew, to some extent, that their relationship had taken a turn for the unusual. One of power play when needed. How they had figured it out was beyond Neil, but he hadn’t corrected them when stray comments had slipped. Neither had Andrew. Because the comments hadn’t been condemning.

Andrew made Neil take a second shower, went to the bathroom with him but stayed out of the glass cabin. He’d simply watched over him.

In the living room, Neil knew what he needed. It was simple enough.

He sat next to the goalie on the couch and spoke his request. If Andrew refused, that would be okay. Not ideal, but okay. “I don’t want to wear the collar. I just need your power.”

“Explain,” Andrew replied, turning to face Neil fully. “I need more words than that.”

And that was fair. They never did anything without complete and clear instructions and demands.

“I need you to tie me down and spank me. I need to really feel it. But I don’t want to be fucked or touched anywhere else than my ass. If you’re willing to.”

“I’m willing to.” The answer was firm and ready. “Get up. In the kitchen. Bend over the table and spread your legs. You know what else to do. I’ll go get the restraints.”

Neil nodded and hurried to do as he’d been told. In the kitchen he looked at the table. It was the perfect height for him for him to bend over. And the perfect length for his hands to be tied to the legs securely. He stepped over to it and got in position, spreading his legs and extending his arms over his head. He rested his right cheek on the cold wood.

Andrew came to him a couple of minutes later. He rounded the table to face Neil. There were several things in his hands, and he showed them one by one. “Cuffs or rope?” he asked. Cuffs, Neil answered. “Paddle, cane, or hands?” Andrew continued. Paddle, Neil said. “Good, thanks for telling me.”

With a nod from Neil, Andrew began the task of securing Neil to the table, tight enough so he couldn’t move. The handcuffs went on first, one for each wrist attached to a table leg on either side of the table, starfishing his arms. The position soothed Neil instantly. Next, his feet were cuffed to the two remaining table legs, keeping them spread wide.

Like this, there was a chance Andrew wouldn’t just strike his ass cheeks, but his rim as well.

There was one more thing Neil wanted. He swallowed before announcing, “When you’ve spanked me, I need you to leave me tied. Can you stay in my field of vision but out of reach?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

Neil closed his eyes. “Ten minutes?” It wasn’t enough. He almost asked for longer.

“Neil?” Andrew urged, seeing right through him.

“Twenty.”

“I’ll leave you half an hour, unless you safeword,” Andrew said sternly. “Twenty minutes is not enough. You’re being too hard on yourself. I want you to let go of your guilt.”

Neil nodded; Andrew was right.

“Give me your safewords.”

Neil nodded a second time. “Ax and red for stop. Yellow for pause. Green for go.”

“Good boy. I’m giving you nineteen strikes. That’s how many times you’ve said out loud it was your fault we lost. You don’t need to count them. Just relax and take it.” Andrew came over to the other end of the table, out of sight.

The first hit with the paddle was loud, and the sound was definitely worse than the actual impact. Neil flinched but couldn’t move.

“I told you to relax,” Andrew reminded him harshly. “Four more and I’ll go harder.” He didn’t wait for Neil’s green; Neil knew a red or a yellow would be respected in a heartbeat.

Four hits later, Andrew did as he’d said, deepening the strikes to more than surface grazes. It felt liberating, and Neil surrendered, the pain and relief mixing together deliriously. When Andrew made it to ten, he paused for a safeword. It was green, so so green. Then he used his left hand to part Neil’s left ass cheek. With the edge of the paddle, he hit his rim.

Neil cried out loudly, tears rising to his eyes and his pucker fluttering tighter against the blow. The next cleaved his crack in two. A feral shout crawled up Neil’s throat to permeate the kitchen.

When Andrew made it to nineteen, Neil knew he was bruised. He was certainly sore and burning.

As promised, Andrew left him to stew in his restraints for half an hour, stepping back into view. He pulled a chair over to the wall and sat down. Their eyes met and never left the other. Bit by bit, being left alone - a feeling so devastating  but needed – Neil sank into the embrace of subspace.

At the end of the thirty minutes, Andrew called him back up softly. The goalkeeper untied him gently and helped him stand again. They went to the bedroom where Andrew crawled into bed and pulled Neil down with him.

Neil surrendered for the second time that night, this time to Andrew’s tender and loving care. Neither had grown aroused at the spanking, that had not been the point.

Tomorrow was a new day. Tomorrow would bring new perspective and the reminder of Andrew’s beating against his ass. Tomorrow, Neil would wake up to a clearer mind and the realistic realization that Andrew, Robin, Nicky, and Dan had been right.

The loosing of a game was a team effort, and as a team they would rectify it.

Chapter Text

There were only ten minutes left on the clock, and although his legs were screaming for a respite, his lungs were burning from constant overexertion, sweat was running down his spine and down his face to pool in the hollow at the base of his throat, and his bandana was soaked through, Neil was having the most fun he’d had in a long while.

The Foxes were leading 7 to 1 against Belmonte. They were playing together splendidly, the way the Foxes were always meant to play, and his grin was impossible to shake off his face, not even when a backliner rammed into him and sent him back a few steps. Neil just barreled back and clacked their sticks together in a fierce fight for power.

Slowly, the backliner ran out of steam, and soon he stumbled on clumsy footwork, and Neil was able to step around him nimbly and shoot on goal. The flashing red light was just what Neil needed, and laughter bubbled up his throat and out his mouth. Instantly, Dan was there to hug him, and Kevin gave him a nod. Nicky’s cheering carried over the crowd’s wild roar, and at the far end of the Court, Neil knew Andrew was watching him.

Andrew was always watching him, which was all the fuel Neil needed to run faster.

When he turned around, their eyes met heatedly. Neil saluted his boyfriend with two fingers pressed to the side of his helmet, and he could just about guess Andrew rolling his eyes and scowling.

So yes, Neil was having great fun.

When the buzzer announced the end of the match, the Foxes had scored two additional goals (both Kevin’s doing) and Andrew was the sole reason the Belmonte team had only scored one single goal all game long.

Neil had watched him also. Had marveled, not for the first, nor the last, at the smooth way in which the goalkeeper deflected each ball with ease. He was fascinated by his strong swings that forced the ball to fly through the air, and he couldn’t keep his eyes from the way Andrew’s muscles tensed and flexed with every movement he made.

Andrew was a god in the goal, and Neil wasn’t planning on waiting till they got back to the Tower to let him do all kinds of things to him. Oh no. The locker room would do more than fine. They would wait for every other Fox to vacate the place, then desecrate it to the fullest.

Maybe Andrew would pin him to the lockers and jerk him off with a strong grip while whispering filthy things in his ear in a honey-sweet voice. He might even leave him hard and aching, and put his hand on the top of his head to get him on his knees. Neil wouldn’t hesitate to suck Andrew off, take him deep in the back of his throat, and relish his smell and taste – the smell and taste of sweat, and musk, and the one thing that made Andrew the Andrew he loved.

Or maybe Andrew would take him in the shower, bend him over and eat him out before shoving his cock deep inside his waiting hole.

There was also the possibility that Andrew wanted to be fucked. Hard or sweet, it didn’t matter, Neil would give it to him in without a moment of hesitation. But based on the way Andrew had played, on the way his eyes were narrowed slits when taking off his helmet and seeking Neil’s gaze, it was more likely Neil would be the one getting ruined. The man had an abundance of energy that needed an outlet.

Neil would gladly be the outlet.

The Foxes shook hands with the Terrapins. Then they left the Court to head to the showers. Wymack gave a short speech in the lounge, trying to keep it as professional and unemotional as possible. He failed at it, and in the corner, Abby was smiling sweetly at the back of his head.

Neil tugged Andrew’s hand and led them round a corner and inside a usually locked room. He wasted no time in kissing him and asking yes or no to touching him over his uniform. Andrew’s yes was bitten into his earlobe.

When they deemed the coast clear, had heard most Foxes leave the Foxhole Court in high spirits and talking of an all-night party down in the basement of the Tower, they snuck back out of the room and over to the locker room.

It was empty.

The lights were still on, however; most of the Foxes knew Neil and Andrew liked to shower together after a win, and that they needed the place to themselves. Most likely, it had been Nicky making sure the lights were still on.

“I hate you,” Andrew murmured against the delicate skin of Neil’s neck. “So much. With your fucking bandana, and those runner thighs of yours.” It was all code for I love you, I cherish you, you were amazing out there. He was smiling when he pulled back.

“Do you hate me too much to fuck me?”

“Of course not,” Andrew hurried to say.

They would do this without domination, without submission. Now, they were just two horny athletes in love and in need of release. They didn’t have any scenes planned, nor any play agreed upon. It was just them. Just them.

Andrew shoved Neil towards the shower while undressing them both. He’d fetched their bottle of lube from his locker. Pieces of gear and uniform were dropped to the floor like a trail of breadcrumbs. Inside the shower, he then washed Neil thoroughly before dropping to his knees and blowing him. In no time, Neil yanked him by the hair to get him off his dick. “I’m getting too close,” he explained when Andrew looked up at him with a question in his eyes.

“Right,” Andrew muttered. “Hold onto my shoulders. I’m going to lift you up and fuck you hard.”

Neil gasped when Andrew’s hands hoisted him up. He put his hands on the goalkeeper’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist. Andrew grabbed the lube, opened Neil up for his cock, and then lowered the striker down. The moment Andrew’s cockhead popped inside his hole, Neil moaned unabashedly. This was his favorite part. The first moment of breaching, the first real contact between them, where any distance between them was obliterated. Andrew thrust up fluidly and stilled when Neil had slid down on his cock entirely.

Oh shit, he was so full. Gravity was doing its thing.

Andrew set a brutal pace from the get-go, and Neil got lost in the haze of his pleasure the moment Andrew found his prostate.

After a while, but before he took Neil’s cock in his hand, Andrew stared directly into Neil’s eyes. “I want you,” he deadpanned, and Neil would never stop being fascinated by how blandly he could say things even when he was balls deep inside him.

“You always have me, Andrew.”

To make his point abundantly clear, Andrew took Neil’s wrist in his hand, and pressed the tip of Neil’s fingers against his throat. He swallowed and Neil felt his Adam’s apple bob. “I want your control.”

“Oh.”

Andrew bit Neil’s bottom lip and thrust deeply into him again.

“Now?” Neil asked.

“No. When we get back.” Andrew thrust up again, adding force and precision. Neil’s thighs tightened around his waist, and he couldn’t deny the thrill that went through him.

From there, it was a fast ride to climax, and Neil came with Andrew’s fist closed around the head of his cock, and Andrew followed him a few thrusts later, shooting off deep inside Neil. Afterwards, Neil was lowered back down, and on wobbly legs, he began the task of cleaning himself, inside and out. Andrew’s heated stare tracked every place his hands roamed.

They got dressed casually, kissed on one of the benches, Andrew straddling it and Neil straddling him, and Andrew whispered into his ear, “I want your control, not your power.”

The point was clear. Words were needed, and only minimal action on Neil’s part.

They made it back to the Tower half an hour later.

At the suite, someone was in the bathroom – Nicky, Neil realized as soon as the backliner began singing – and they hurried into the bedroom. Neil stroked Andrew’s cheek with the tip of his index finger, then walked over to their bunkbeds. He dumped his game bag on his lower bunk and heaved a deep sigh.

When he turned around, Andrew hadn’t moved an inch, which was to be expected. Neil smiled at him and went to the dresser, pulling out the first object needed for a scene.

He chuckled when Andrew’s eyes grew darker at the sight of their collar, and said, “Love. You can say no if you don’t want to do this, if you’ve changed your mind. We can go downstairs to the others and have a good time.”

Andrew shook his head and walked, predator-like, over to Neil. “I want to have a good time, with you.”

Neil could have tripped over his own overwhelming emotions, and when Andrew took the collar to put it in his pocket, he could have died. Instead, he closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. On the other side of the door, Nicky came out of the bathroom and walked over to the living room where they could hear him go through the shared liquor cabinet and mutter softly to himself. 

They were so engrossed in the kiss that they didn’t hear him close the cabinet and walk back down the narrow hallway to the bedroom. All they heard was the door banging open and Nicky’s squeal. “Oh, shit, I thought you’d already gone downstairs.” His eyes were shining with badly contained glee and laughter, and something else entirely devious. 

Andrew glared at him, because of course he did, and said, “We have no intentions of going downstairs.”

Nicky laughed. “Oh, to be young and virile.”

Neil had to grip the belt loop of Andrew’s jeans to stop him charging his cousin. “I’m in control, stud, remember?” He whispered. 

Andrew only grunted and gave Neil a feral look. 

Nicky caught it but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. “Well. I’ll leave you. Give me five minutes and then you can get down to business.”

“Get out, now, Nicky,” Andrew snarled. 

As soon as Nicky had left the bedroom and they had heard the suite door slam shut, Neil turned to Andrew, lowered his voice a fraction, and said firmly, “So, tonight?”

“You can go hard tonight. Maybe try one of my soft limits?”

“Maybe?”

“Definitely.”

Andrew had half a dozen soft limits that had never been addressed beyond a simple mention, much less fiddled with. “Which one?”

“Surprise me.”

Neil wasn’t convinced it was such a good idea not to discuss it, but the look in Andrew’s eyes was firm and consenting. 

“Control? Right? Not power?”

Andrew nodded. 

It narrowed the possibilities down to three. And by studying Andrew’s face, Neil made up his mind. “Take it,” he said, handing the collar over. “Do you accept it for tonight? Do you trust me to know what is best for you? Will you obey me? Will you safeword if it gets to be too much? Will you hold me accountable for treating you right while also pushing you?”

Each question was answered with a resounding yes. 

“Go wait outside in the hallway.”

A visible shiver ran through the goalkeeper’s frame at the command. 

Neil set about finding the things from their play box and from the back of their closet as fast as possible. For the actual soft limit, he didn’t need any props, but he wanted to have some fun with Andrew. And he wanted Andrew to submit. 

He quickly found what he needed: a couple of things they had played with already, and one they hadn’t. A bit of variety was good, but Neil should be careful not to overwhelm the goalkeeper with too much newness.

Out in the hallway, Andrew was standing perfectly still with a bored expression in place. Neil licked his lips when their eyes met – he was looking forward to breaking that boredom into a million pieces. The mask would slip and beneath it reveal the real Andrew no one got to see but him. 

Andrew rolled his eyes, as if he’d heard Neil’s thoughts. 

“Are you going to make me work for your submission?” Neil asked in response to the eye roll. 

“Where is the fun if I don’t?”

Neil laughed. A bit of bite back was always welcome. 

“I did tell you not to leash me,” Andrew added.

“You shouldn’t have given me your collar then.”

Andrew scoffed and shoulder-bumped him on the way over to the elevators at the end of the hallway. His eyes kept drifting down to the bag in Neil’s hand but he didn’t ask about its content. What he did ask was, “Where are we going?”

“To the roof. But we’re taking the long way there.”

Andrew frowned. 

“You’ll see. Patience grasshopper.”

They stepped inside the elevator and Neil pressed the button for the lobby. On the ground floor, he led Andrew over to the stairs that would take them to the roof. Hidden behind a loose brick in the wall were stored six wooden slats Andrew had once put there. As they climbed the stairs, Neil secured each door with one of the slats so no one from the hallway on the other side could enter the stairwell. 

Floor by floor, they finally reached the roof. 

Andrew walked out first, and Neil shadowed him quietly. Instead of closing the door and securing it the way he had all the others, he left it wide open. He put a heavy brick in front of it so it wouldn’t accidentally swing close. 

Andrew pupils dilated deliciously at the sight of the open door. 

The surface of the roof was too grainy for the first thing Neil had in mind, but since he hadn’t used the final slat to close the roof’s door, he used it instead for the first object he pulled out of his bag. He put the wood down at his feet.

Andrew’s eyes bulged the moment he saw what it was. He was a fan of that particular sex toy, Neil knew this very well. 

“Strip, handsome. I want all of you on display.”

Andrew looked around, his chest rising and falling as he took in the surroundings. They were standing smack in the middle of the roof; no one below would catch a glimpse. So he took his shoes off, his socks, his pants. His hands were grabbing the back of his t shirt when Neil said, “Slower. I want a show.”

Andrew cursed but did as he was told. He lifted his shirt slowly, inch by inch, taking his time before revealing his nipples. By the time the shirt was on the floor at his feet, Neil was hard in his pants and impatient; he did not give in though, just enjoyed the show as Andrew put all of himself out in the open. 

God, he was gorgeous. 

And unashamed when naked. 

Neil knew Andrew knew he was good looking, he also knew how uncomfortable it made him at times. Being pretty in an oversexualized world could be a curse, a heavy curse Andrew carried in the dark moments when the past came back to haunt him. 

Neil had seen his inner beauty first, buried deep beneath years of thick armor, and his physical beauty second. One time, when Andrew had been uncharacteristically drunk, he’d told Neil that it was partly this that had set Neil apart from everyone else, what had made pursuing Neil worth everything.

“Come over here. If you still want to do this, you’ll kneel and bare your neck. If you don’t want to, tell me what you would like instead and I’ll give it to you.”

There was only certainty when Andrew came over to Neil, his hard clock bobbing with every step he took, and when they stood face to face Andrew lifted his chin defiantly once before dropping his head in submission and sinking to his knees. 

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Neil hesitated. "Is there a particular reason why you want to do a scene?"

Andrew semi-smiled. "Do I need a particular reason, other than I want to?"

"No."

"I had to watch you from far away tonight as you ran and scored and bossed everyone around. What can I say, it turned me on."

That was fucking amazing. "You've been thinking about this and you locked down the goal?" Holy fuck. How was that man even real?

"Not a difficult feat when the other team plays like shit."

Neil laughed openely at that. Then he put the collar on Andrew, grabbed his hair, and yanked his head up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to know in advance what I’m going to put you through?”

“No.”

“As you wish.” He let go of Andrew’s hair. "Let me get this ready for you."

Neil used the suction cup at the base to fasten their fleshlight to the wooden slat. He made Andrew use his knees to keep the wood, and thereby the fleshlight as well, pinned to the roof, immobile and immovable. “You will fuck your cock down the sleeve and you will not stop, nor will you come. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes.”

Neil nodded. “Give me your safewords.”

“No and red for stop. Yellow for pause. Green for keep going.”

“And you are, right now?”

“Green.”

Neil took a deep breath. He was ready too. He was giving himself over to the dom inside him. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Andrew bent down on all fours. He was rock hard, and thrusting into the fleshlight looked easy. The pressure against his shaft must have been good based on how he closed his eyes and shivered, perfect – for now; Neil knew soon it would be torturous and too much. Andrew thrusted and kept thrusting while Neil walked in a semi-circle around him. “You’ll be spread with this.” Andrew couldn’t see what Neil was referring to, which was their newly purchased, and yet unused, spreader bar. Neil pulled the bar from his bag, screwed it so the length was exactly how he wanted it, and then used his feet to idly push Andrew’s legs far apart. He secured the goalie’s ankles to each end of the steel bar. There was no closing his legs and shielding his hole. “This is great, stud. Anyone walking up here will get the perfect view. Your cock slipping in and out the sleeve as you fuck yourself like the desperate, needy thing that you are, and your empty hole on display. Think they’ll want to watch me fuck you raw? Fill you up and leave you dripping.”

Neil waited a moment to see Andrew nod his head in rhythm to his thrusting hips. That was good. Neil could carry on. He would remain on the lookout for signs of genuine distress though. Sometimes, Neil’s words hit a limit where before there hadn’t been one.

“You’re all mine, and I don’t share. But they’ll certainly fantasize about it. I could let them tell you how fucking filthy you are. Maybe I’d spit on your hole and use it as lube to fuck you. While they watch of course.”

The words were having the desired effect on Andrew. He was slipping easily, his shoulders sagging. And of course, no one would walk in on him; the open door was the illusion of possible intrusion. Every locked and blocked door leading to the stairs was the safety net Andrew in reality needed. No one other than Neil would ever have access to him in this vulnerable state, no one would be allowed to come within a mile radius to use him.

Neil would fight tooth and nail, and offer himself up instead in a heartbeat.

When he came back to look at Andrew’s face, he was immensely pleased to see the glazed veil in his eyes; he was down, to the very place he’d been unable to reach the last time they had done a scene, which had been months ago. Neil was proud and relieved. But he wasn’t done.

He crouched down and placed a gentle hand on the goalkeeper’s cheek. “Your eyes, stud, give me your eyes. It’s not quite time for you to slip under.”

Andrew grunted with displeasure but followed the sound of Neil’s voice – Neil saw it in the way his eyes darted everywhere to take in his surroundings anew.

“You wanted my control, I’ve barely begun.” He traced his thumb along the seam of Andrew’s lips. “But I need a color first.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Green. You’re good. Thank you. That was – that was really good.”

And what a relief that was.

“Alright. It’s green for me too.” Neil took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you? Just briefly. I need to feel you.” Because he did. They were about to wander into unknown territory.

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed. He probably needed to feel Neil’s closeness and love too.

Their lips met in a short but electric kiss filled with reassurance. When Neil stood again, he reminded Andrew to keep fucking the fleshlight, and Andrew obeyed with renewed vigor.

Then, Neil placed one foot under Andrew’ head. “My shoes need cleaning.”

Oh, the delight of watching Andrew take in the insinuation.

“I won’t do it.”

It wasn’t no, and that was good enough.

“By the end, you will. You’ll lick them spotless.”

“Dream on.”

Still not no.

“For every refusal, I’ll punish you. We’ll start with nipple clamps; I know how they hurt you. You’re so sensitive there. If that isn’t enough incentive, I’ll move on to the lovely testicle clamps you’ve suffered before.” Neil’s voice was amused. “You will submit.”

Andrew’s whole body stilled.

“Keep fucking, Andrew. Are you imagining it’s my ass? I bet you are. But who says I’d ever let you near my ass again? You can’t even be trusted to take care of my feet.”

Andrew picked up his thrusts.

“Gonna lick my shoe?”

“I am not.”

Neil sighed heavily. “You leave me with no other option, then.” He found their pair of weighted nipple clamps in his bag and made sure Andrew could see it. The uptick in the goalkeeper’s breathing was worth it. “These go on now. Tweak your nipples for me. Don’t make me do all the work here.”

Andrew glared at Neil with such contempt, Neil was momentarily startled. “Color?” he prompted a little panicky.

“Green,” Andrew answered right away. “But I won’t lick your goddamn shoes, junkie.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Andrew rubbed his nipples until they stood at attention. How Neil loved those sensitive small nubs. He fastened the first clamp forcefully, the metal teeth digging into the darkened flesh, and he smiled when Andrew cursed but sped up. When the second clamp came on, Andrew hissed through clenched feet, and that was before Neil let go of the two weighted balls.

The two balls fell halfway to the surface of the roof and swung from Andrew’s nipples.

With the foot he hadn’t placed right under Andrew’s face, Neil pushed the balls so they bounced around. “Are you ready to do as I ask now?”

Andrew’s answer wasn’t immediate. His entire body was tense and layered in a sudden flop-sweat. “I, will not, polish, your, shoes.”

It was to be expected. So Neil took out the two smaller clamps, showing them to Andrew too. “Be a good boy and keep fucking the sleeve. I’m going to put those two on you, and you may not come. Understood?”

Andrew nodded, the muscles in his jaw working furiously as he clenched his teeth again.

“Verbal answer, handsome.”

“I won’t come without permission.”

“And a color?”

“It’s green.”

Neil nodded and walked to Andrew’s backside slowly. The view from there was as good as the view the front of the goalkeeper offered. His strong thighs were carrying the heaviest part of the scene, holding him up while he was thrusting back and forth, back and forth, and they looked beautiful. Andrew’s ballsack was hitting the entrance of the fleshlight with every plunge, and Neil bit his lip at the thought of two clamps hanging from one each.

He set to work immediately.

Soon, he’d pulled the skin of Andrew’s balls between his fingertips and fastened the two metal devices to the sound of Andrew’s angry whimpering. Those clamps didn’t have teeth, just smooth, steel edges, but it was enough to push Andrew over to the uncomfortable side of pleasure-pain.

Unfortunately, the goalkeeper was too stubborn for his own good, and it took Neil tugging on the nipple clamps to produce any results.  The closer Andrew came to wavering, the more his eyes glazed over.

In the end, Andrew parted his lips and extended his tongue. He licked the first stripe up the side of Neil’s trainers, and Neil saw him sink under. “Good boy, so obedient. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, keep it up and finish the job.”

Near the end, Neil ordered the goalkeeper to open his mouth wide and he stuck to tip of his shoe inside. “Look at you,” he cooed. “You’re so good. So perfect for me. You’re done. No need to do the other shoe. Kneel up and keep your mouth open though. My cock could use some TLC. It’s hard just from watching you bent over my shoe.”

Andrew pulled his mouth from Neil’s shoe and sat back on his heels. He was still there, somewhere, behind the haze, and there was the beginning of a very small smile on his lips despite his mouth being still open.

It was too good to be true, and after having endured seeing Andrew fucking the toy, withstand the clamps, and then lick his shoe, Neil pulled his hard cock out of his pants at lightning speed. He wasted no time penetrating the wetness of Andrew’s mouth. “Stop moving your hips,” he ordered.

At the blissed-out groan from Andrew, Neil bucked his hips and buried his cock to the hilt. Tears rose to Andrew’s eyes. He set a fast pace and came quickly.

Long after he’d spilled down Andrew’s throat, his cock was still in Andrew’s mouth. It was soft now, and not nearly as deep as it had gone while erect. Andrew was the perfect cocksleeve. Just a warm mouth.

Andrew had stopped moving altogether, was barely breathing beyond what was necessary, and his eyes were closed. He was utterly quiet too.

“Stud. Nod if I can massage your shoulders,” Neil asked. The directive had two reasons for being spoken. Firstly, Neil knew Andrew liked his massages when he was warming Neil’s cock. And two, any failure to respond was the point to end the scene. A non-verbal Andrew was as deep as he would get, and could be dangerous if not handled right.

Andrew nodded, muttered a muffled and far-off yes, and Neil’s hands kneaded the knots in his shoulders. He wasn’t as tense as Neil had feared – the game had not been too brutal on him, and the subspace was mellowing him a great deal.

While keeping his fingers busy against Andrew’s muscles, Neil eased his cock out of his mouth. Only a small whimper of complaint escaped the goalkeeper, and Neil soothed it away with some deep rubs. After an unknown number of minutes, Neil fell to his knees to look deeply into Andrew’s eyes. “I love you, Andrew,” he said softly. “I cherish you. And I will protect you for as long as I live.” He cupped his cheek. “You keep me whole and you keep me sane. Now, come back to me so I can take care of you.”

Andrew looked like he was about to shake his head, but at the last moment, he exhaled deeply, and blinked a few times in rapid succession.

“There you go,” Neil praised him. “Do you need me to count?”

Andrew shook his head at that.

When Neil saw the lights return to his Andrew’s eyes, he breathed deeply for the first time since he had asked him to lick his shoes. “Hi,” he murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Andrew smiled. It was blinding and raw. “I’m good. Thank you.”

“I should thank you,” Neil argued. “You submitted so beautifully.”

Andrew snorted.

“You did,” Neil pressed on. “Let me take the clamps off.”

“Thank fuck,” Andrew grunted.

“Then I’m taking you down to our suite. I’ll shower you and cuddle you. I’ll be there with you the whole night and longer.”

Andrew chuckled. “You fucking better.”

Neil looked down at the fleshlight where Andrew’s hard cock was still buried. “Do you want me to take care of that now?”

“Not yet,” Andrew breathed. “Hold me first.”

Chapter Text

Andrew sighed deeply when Neil’s arms came up and around him. Fuck the fact that clamps were still abusing his nipples as well as the thin, sensitive skin of his balls, fuck that he was spread open by a goddamn steel bar, and absolutely fuck that his cock was still hard and in need of release.

Coming back up to Neil’s gentle voice always did things to Andrew he would never be able to describe. It felt a little like swimming in a lake, several feet below the surface where everything was muddled and darker, and where the pressure all around was heavier, to then come up for air and seeing the sun while feeling a soft breeze on exposed skin. Or like lying in bed, caught in the twilight zone between awake and asleep, not fully aware of oneself but also not unaware of oneself, and then suddenly becoming aware of the mattress behind one’s back, the pillow under one’s head, and the duvet nestled against one’s body. Neil’s voice coming through the thick fog was always the thing bringing him back to his body.

Jesus, only after a heavy scene was Andrew ever this poetic.

“Sweetheart,” Neil said suddenly, probably feeling Andrew slowly slip away again. “Stay with me.”

Andrew nodded, nestling his head in the crook between Neil’s shoulder and neck where he felt most safe, most guarded and cared for.

“Do you want me to unclip you now?”

Why yes, he would. Andrew nodded his consent.

First went the left nipple clamp with its weighted ball, then the right. In their wake woke a tingling sensation like ants’ feet step dancing against the erect nubs. “I’m going to let you go now,” Neil then warned him. “So I can get to your backside.” Andrew nodded at that too. When the two clamps were finally taken off his ballsack, his cock got harder when residual pain shot through him. It pulsed inside the fleshlight and only Neil’s presence behind him working on the spreader bar was the thing that kept him from thrusting down the sleeve to get himself off at last.

With a clang, the spreader bar fell to the roof the moment Andrew’s ankles were released. Immediately, Neil draped himself over Andrew’s back, letting his arms circle his midsection, and he pulled Andrew gently back into an upright kneeling position. He helped ease his hard cock out of the sleeve but made no further move to touch him. Andrew knew he would wait for his go-ahead.

Still a little fuzzy, Andrew slumped back to rest his sagging body against Neil’s firm chest. Neil would never drop him. And drop him, he didn’t, not even as he helped him get to his feet without removing his arms from around him.

“The suite should still be empty. No one will be back for hours. I heard them talking about an all-nighter down in the basement. We should be good to go back now,” Neil said gently. “But do you want to stay here a moment?”

Sometimes, Andrew needed to remain in the place of the scene for a little while. But not tonight. Tonight he only needed to be where Neil was. Coming out of a scene, and out of subspace, Andrew’s need for constant touch and reassurance doubled, tripled. It was the only time he allowed himself to need it, to want it, most likely because every mask previously in place, every brick wall usually erected, were down and gone. The real Andrew was the one he was feeling presently.

Coming to that realization had been nearly impossible, and definitely long in the making, because never had Andrew been without his mask or his brick walls. The one time he had been without them, he’d been a very small child, still basking in the illusion of a safe and kind world. He had no memories of that boy, to the point where he had often wondered if he had ever existed in the first place.

Andrew’s first real memory was one of pain and shame. Everything that had happened before had been eclipsed in a single moment of cruelty done to him. He hated the world. He hated the people who had used him. And he wanted to get to know the boy he used to be. The boy that was stolen from this world.

Being in subspace, coming back up to Neil, felt a bit like reconnecting with that little boy.

“Let me pack the things up, and we’ll go down,” Neil said, halting the path Andrew’s thoughts were heading down. “Hey,” he added, turning Andrew around gently and cupping his face. “I love you. And I am proud of you.”

“I didn’t safeword,” came the only answer Andrew could think of. He was surprised he hadn’t. He was pleased he hadn’t. Truth be told, he had been thinking about his soft limits for some time, needing to know, needing to come one step closer to who he was and what he could endure.

“You didn’t,” Neil agreed with a beaming smile. “It was,” he said before stopping himself. “I have no words, Andrew. It was amazing. You were amazing.”

You were amazing.

God, how those three words used to trigger and piss him off. He didn’t need the echo from the past slung at him in the present. Now? Now, he drank them like honeyed wine. The sweetest nectar.

“Is it weird that I liked it so much?” Andrew heard himself ask. Just the words jolted a peak of pleasure down from the crown of his to the very tip of his dick.

Neil chuckled. “Is it weird that I liked it so much?”

Andrew mirrored Neil’s hand on his cheek. “No.” He couldn’t help suddenly feeling very naked, and very hard, and he looked down at himself. Neil’s eyes, always sharp and hawk-like, followed, and he smiled when he saw what Andrew was seeing. A lovely cock with a thick glob of precum beading at the slit, head flushed with an excess of blood. “Could you?” Andrew asked, making up his mind on the spot.

“Yes, absolutely yes, Andrew,” Neil said. He dropped to his knees right then and there, a sharp contrast to earlier. “Where can I touch you?”

“Anywhere but my ass,” Andrew said.

The first touch of tongue to slit was electric, and Andrew bucked his hips before he could stop himself. He was about to still his whole body when Neil spoke around the head of his cock, “Don’t hold back.”

He did hold back, at first. He needed time to switch from submissive to equal, but before long, he was snapping his hips to and fro, and finally he came, down Neil’s throat. He was shaking when he opened his eyes and saw Neil’s lips stretched around his girth and the bob of his Adam’s apple as his cum was being swallowed.

When Neil stood again, he told Andrew reverently, “Thank you for that.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Andrew retorted.

“It is news to no one.”

Andrew laughed. So much was wonderful. So much was right. He had the man of his dreams by his side, had the freedom and luxury and guts to submit whenever he needed to, and he had the peace of mind required to stay afloat afterwards.

“Can you get dressed while I gather the things?” Neil asked. “Or would you like my help with that?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, then shuffled over to bend down and grab his pants. He got dressed on his own, the worn fabrics of his clothes a little too rough for his sensitive skin. He looked forward to getting to the dorm so he could fish out his favorite sweatpants and t-shirt to wear.

He observed the way Neil stuffed everything unceremoniously into his bag, and then surrendered to Neil’s arms the moment they came around him. Together they walked over to the rooftop door, Andrew was the one to kick the heavy brick away from the door, and it was a relief to hear the door swing shut behind them while they walked down the steps. It had been a stroke of genius on Neil’s part, he had to admit, to leave the door open and offer a powerful illusion of danger.

He could still hear the things Neil had said to him. He didn’t know why they never failed to affect him the way they did. He didn’t know why a bit of degrading dirty talk was such an aphrodisiac, and maybe it was best not to analyze it too closely. It was what it was.

Once they entered the suite, they found that it was indeed empty and peaceful. Neil led them to the bathroom and lowered Andrew down on the closed lid of the toilet. Andrew smiled when Neil’s finger traced the shape of his lips.

“Let me brush your teeth,” Neil said.

There was no stopping the laugh that made its way out of Andrew. Brushing his teeth was the least Neil could do for him. Neil had a perfectly clean sneaker thanks to him.

Andrew nodded gratefully, and he opened his mouth when Neil returned to him with his toothbrush. He didn’t know if anyone had ever brushed his teeth for him. Kids’ parents did it for them, but when had Andrew ever had parents? It was a weird, foreign feeling to not be the one in control of the toothbrush’s movements, and Andrew tracked its path carefully; upper row teeth first, left to right, back and then front, before it moved down to his bottom teeth, right to left, front and then back. Not at all how he brushed his own teeth. How funny.

“All done. Can I kiss you?”

Andrew got to his feet and rinsed his mouth with tap water. “Yes. Come here.”

The kiss was chaste and full of comfort.

In the shower, Neil carefully washed Andrew’s entire body and hair, and afterwards dried him with the fluffiest towel they owned. The way Neil ran the towel through his hair could only be descrived as reverential.

Next, they were seated on the couch, in their sleep clothes, Andrew sprawled half-lying on top of Neil, and a blanket was covering them just in case either Nicky or Kevin decided to ditch the party and go to sleep early. There was nothing in the way they were positioned that suggested what they had been up too. No. Andrew only knew because his body was more relaxed than ever before, and the usual incessant noise in his brain was just a slow simmering pot on the backburner.

Neil turned the television on and hurriedly zapped over to Comedy Central where soon the Daily Show with Trevor Noah would begin. Andrew looked up at his junkie and his heart swelled with how well the striker knew him.

During the show, Andrew ate the sweets Neil had dumped on the coffee table, drank the hot chocolate Neil had made him, and shivered when Neil’s fingernails scratched his scalp when he was stroking his hair. He had almost fallen asleep when Neil said to him, “Let’s go to bed.”

Andrew nodded and let Neil help him off the couch and into the bedroom. They climbed the ladder to Andrew’s loft and slumped down on the mattress together. He fell asleep to Neil’s gentle praise of how good he had been submitting of how well he had fucked the sleeve without coming of how beautifully he had shined his shoe and of how much he was loved and cherished and admired. There existed no better way to fall asleep.

⁎

The following few days went by without anything out of the ordinary happening. Andrew was busy with classes, and essays, and exy practice. The Foxes’ game against the Jackals resulted in another landslide win. The Beckenridge players were furious afterwards, but there was nothing they could do. They had played lousily and lost a spot in the Championship Rounds.  

But slowly, Andrew noticed a change in Neil. It wasn’t obvious at first – just a comment here, and a death glare there – but as the days passed and Neil’s mood soured, Andrew grew worried. When Neil’s attitude flared only to die and plunge the striker into uncharacteristic silence, Andrew resorted to research before confronting his junkie.

Andrew knew Neil’s change in mood wasn’t related to exy (the Foxes were doing too great), nor was it related to his studies (he was doing well in class and had gotten two assignments back with excellent feedback and stunning grades), so what was it?

Was it Andrew? Had Andrew done something wrong? No, that couldn’t be. Neil usually distanced himself from Andrew when he was mad at him, kept his small touches to himself during the day and at night. They slept in their own beds instead of snuggling up in one of their bunks. None of that was happening.

Did he have a fight with someone? That seemed unlikely as well. No one disliked Neil. Not enough to warrant a dispute. And although Neil’s shit list was a real thing, it usual took a big deal before he became angry at someone.

Had a person made a comment to him? About his looks? His scars? In the past, a comment like that, either from a stranger or a reporter, would send him spiraling, but Neil was in a better place, had done amazing work on himself, and Andrew couldn’t remember anyone saying anything. And he would remember.

That left one thing only: their latest scene.

Was his rabbit’s mood caused by their scene? How? And why? Andrew had told him, more than once, that it had been a good scene, that he had loved it, that he wouldn’t mind trying it again at some later time.

His research on one of the library computers introduced a new term. And everything fit the description. Neither he nor Neil were, unfortunately, unfamiliar with the sudden drop after submitting. But this, this was new.

He logged out of his university user, cleared the internet search history, and stopped by Bee’s office on his was back to the Tower. She knew about his and Neil’s activities in the bedroom. She was respectful, understanding, even encouraging, and had done her own fair share of research so she could better help Andrew parse through the mess in his mind about his need to submit. She had also been great at calming him down from freaking out about wanting to dominate. Of the two, that had been the real monster.

They spent half an hour talking about Neil and the signs he was giving out, and Bee agreed with Andrew. So far, so good. It did not, however, tell him what he should do, how he should approach the situation.

Back at the Tower, he cooked for everyone, making sure to make all of Neil’s favorite dishes. They ate like kings that night. After Nicky and Kevin had gone to bed, and Neil was done with his math homework, Andrew pulled him down on the couch with him.

“You need to talk to me, Neil,” he muttered. It wasn’t the best way to broach the subject, but Andrew wasn’t known for tact or finesse. “I see you. I know what is going on.”

Neil’s eyes darted everywhere before they lowered to gaze at the couch cushion underneath him. “I know,” he admitted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Andrew shook his head. “There is nothing wrong with you. Just talk to me.”

When Neil’s eyes came back up to Andrew, they were wet. “I went too far,” he blurted out. “I never should have made you do that.” A lone tear escaped the corner of Neil’s right eye, trickling down the side of Neil’s nose and catching against his lips. “It was wrong. I was wrong. I am wrong. There is something wrong with me, Andrew.” The lone tear was joined by another.

“No, no, you’re not. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” Andrew tried to assure him in a voice as firm as he could without having it sound angry. “You did nothing wrong.”

A full sob passed through Neil’s. “You looked at me like you hated me,” he cried. “And I still kept going.”

Sadness washed over Andrew, leaving him cold. “I didn’t hate you, Neil. I never hate you. I was struggling with how much I liked it, with how much I knew I shouldn’t like it. I wanted to give in and let myself go, but I couldn’t right away. My heart was pounding in my chest more than it has ever beat before.”

Neil shook his head frantically. “No, no. You don’t get it. I saw it. I kept forcing you. I didn’t give you space to say no.”

“But you did, Neil. You did.”

Neil’s breathing came in small, loud bursts. “I stuck my foot in your mouth. My shoes were disgusting.”

Unable to hold back, Andrew laughed, because it was the truth. He still remembered the taste of dirt on his tongue, the feel of worn fabric and tiny pieces of filth. It had been disgusting. But that had been part of it. And the part wasn’t bothering him.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a thought, a revelation, came to Andrew. He asked, “Is that why you haven’t gone out to run the last couple of days?” He had wondered about that, but put it down to Neil’s mood. Apparently, it was deeper than that.

“My feet don’t deserve to run. I don’t deserve to run.”

Andrew didn’t think Neil could have said anything more devastating had he tried.

“You must hate my feet,” Neil continued. Tears were falling in freefall now, and there were too many for Andrew to dry.

Instead, he rearranged their positions. Neil ended up leaning against the left armrest of the couch, Andrew against the right, and his feet were in Andrew’s lap.

“There is no part of you I don’t adore,” he assured Neil softly. “There is no part of you I wouldn’t worship. And if your parts happen to be covered by clothes, or, let’s say, shoes, that makes no difference to me.”

Neil looked away purposefully, his entire body smaller than it had any right to be.

“Neil,” Andrew said. He traced the side of Neil’s foot with his index finger, then gripped it and dug his thumb in the apex. The sudden gesture caught Neil so much off guard, the tears ceased for a moment, and the look in Neil’s eyes morphed into something else. When Andrew brought Neil’s foot to his mouth and laid a kiss to the tip of Neil’s big toe, Neil shivered. “There is no part of you that is repulsive,” he murmured against the big toe, before moving on to kiss each of the four others in turn. “You are amazing, and these,” he added, pinching one of the toes between his blunt teeth, “are amazing as well.”

It was apparently just silly enough for Neil to give a wet chuckle.

He then squealed from being ticklish when Andrew kissed the underside of his foot, and tried to pull his foot back when Andrew bit his heel. But Andrew wouldn’t allow him to retreat. Instead, he trailed kisses up Neil’s leg, up his stomach and chest, bit down on his jugular gently, then seized his chin in a gentle grip. Just before kissing his lips, he said, “I love you. I love your feet. And I want to do all sorts of dirty things with them.”

Neil kissed him back, and in that kiss lay a million thanks and promises.

Chapter Text

The restaurant was a fancy one, but that was the point. Normally, they would never even consider stepping inside, but this was a special occasion. For one evening, Andrew could deal with the ridiculously small portions where half the sauce had been sprinkled on the plate and not the food. For a couple of hours, he could endure the looks of the rich dining guests at nearby tables and survive the snippets of inane conversations he caught.

Neil was relaxed across from him. He had taken his suit jacket off and had rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He wore his armbands, a new pair since the previous one had started to fray and the material had begun scrubbing against Neil’s scars the wrong way, and the whole look was delectable. He was wearing the blue tie Renee had given him for his birthday.

Andrew knew that tie very, very well, had had it bound around the base of his cock more than once.

He loved seeing his junkie relaxed in public. It had been a battle to get to this point. Now, even the looks he got from strangers went right over his head and he couldn’t give less of a fuck. The only person I want looking at me is you he had told Andrew, the absolute sap that he was.

They had eaten the hors-d’oeuvre, Andrew had wolfed down the main course, and they were now halfway through dessert. With every bite Andrew took, his heart pounded a little harder in his chest. His plate would soon be clean. And everything would go from there.

What had started as a joke and a throwaway comment late at night in bed a few weeks ago, had now snowballed into what was about to begin. What had been a silly thought experiment turned into an opportunity to explore deeper corners of their desires, and perhaps stake out some limits also.

A scene was born.

The moment Andrew finished his dessert and put the tiny fork down on the table next to his plate, his heart felt like a ticking timebomb, and he wouldn’t be surprise if he exploded soon. Neil mirrored him with his own fork, then slid his hand all the way across the table, palm up and open in invitation. Andrew took it.

“Remember I love you,” Neil whispered with brilliant stars in his eyes. “You’re my one and only and when we get back home, I will take care of you however way you want me to.”

“I know,” Andrew said. “I love you too.”

“Are you sure about this?” Neil asked. Andrew knew he meant the impending scene, not the love declaration.

There wasn’t a bone in Andrew that wasn’t sizzling with electricity, not a surface of his skin that wasn’t electrostatic. “I want to try everything we discussed,” he admitted.

Neil nodded, the softness in his eyes still in place. Oh, that would change soon, so Andrew soaked it up as much as he could. “Even the last part?”

“Even that part, yes.”

“If there is anything that feels wrong, you have to safeword, okay?” The tiny twitch in Neil’s lower lip betrayed a sense of worry.

“I one hundred percent promise you. You have my word. No and red for stop, yellow for pause, and green for keep going.”

Neil smiled his soft and warm and reassuring smile one last time, and said, “Color?”

“Green.”

“Good boy,” Neil replied, and his smile morphed into a wicked caricature of his previous one. “Let’s put on a show then.”

It took everything in Andrew to keep from closing his eyes when Neil threw the content of his water glass in his face. The shock was immense, and the water cold, and Andrew gasped. He also grew half-hard on the spot. “What did you just say?” Neil shouted at him. Neil pushed his chair back, the noise loud in the wake of a restaurant gone silent with curiosity. “What did you just say?” herepeated when he stood up and planted himself right next to Andrew’s chair.

“I said I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Neil slapped him. “You promised me there was nothing going on between you and him.”

Andrew wanted to raise his hand and touch his burning cheek, but he didn’t, because a second slap was in the making. “It meant nothing. It was a mistake.”

Neil slapped him a second time, and then stormed off in the direction of the toilets.

Eyes upon eyes were on Andrew, and he counted to ten (Neil’s Fox jersey number) before going after him. He knew his every step was being tracked by the dining guests and that the waiters were muttering behind each other.

“I’m sorry, Neil, it was just one time,” Andrew said the moment he closed the door behind him.

“And that makes it better, is that it?” Neil asked with a sneer. He was washing his hands, then aggressively ripped sheets of paper out of the dispenser. Just after he threw them in the wastebin, he turned around and faced Andrew full on. “Why are you here?” There was a weariness in his voice that gutted Andrew.

“I wanted to check up on you. I still love you.” It was the truth, would always be the truth, and the words momentarily pulled him out of the scene.

Based on the look that flickered in and out of Neil’s eyes, it was possible he too left the scene for a moment. But then the anger was back in place. “Love isn’t cheating on me. You’ve never known what love is.”

Andrew walked over to Neil and placed a hand on his chest. “That’s not true. You’ve got to believe me.” He fisted the material of Neil’s fine silken shirt.

Neil forcefully pried his hand open and stepped back.

“Don’t, don’t go,” Andrew begged. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.” He took a deep breath. “Fuck me. In this bathroom. Right now.”

Hesitation showed in Neil’s eyes before curtains fell over them. “Fine,” he growled. “Get in there.” He pointed at one of the cubicles. Andrew didn’t move right away. He tracked Neil’s steps which took the striker to the bathroom door, and saw him pull out a small, handy device they had bought a few months back that would secure the door from the inside out. No one would be walking in on them. That had been Andrew’s most important stipulation for agreeing to do a scene in a public restroom. Of course, Neil had promised him no one would see them. He had added that they would be going into one of the cubicles, instead of just bending Andrew over one of the sinks, because an extra closed door added an extra layer of soundproofing. No one would hear Andrew begging, or Neil degrading him, or any of their moans and grunts, or skin slapping against skin.

“You won’t like it if I have to repeat myself.”

Fuck. He’d been watching Neil too long.

Andrew walked into the cubicle and made sure his face was as open and eager as he could get. Neil was on him half a minute later, his lips more bruising than kissing. His fingers were rough and close to the point of painful but not quite. Andrew had definitely endured worse; they both had.

“Turn around. Hold onto the lid. Present yourself.”

Andrew turned around, bent over so his hands could grab the closed toilet lid, and presented himself which meant arching his back and popping his ass for faster access.

“Look at how quickly you did that,” Neil sneered. “Were you that easy with the other guy too? Or is just me who makes you desperate.”

“You. Only you.”

“Give me your hand.”

Andrew started to twist his torso to reach his hand behind himself, but Neil stilled him. “Not like that. Do not turn around. Did I give you permission to do that?”

Andrew shook his head and just offered his hand at an odd angle.

“Good boy.” Neil grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to the bulge in his slacks. “Your first job is to get me hard.”

Awkwardly, Andrew did. It was easier when Neil unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants and pulled his almost entirely flaccid cock out. It took a couple of minutes, but then his familiar hardness started ripening under Andrew’s ministrations.

“Look how well you’re doing it,” Neil murmured. “Can’t wait to get fucked? Can’t wait to let me have my way with you?” As he spoke, he grew harder, and Andrew sighed internally – it was always an unparalleled relief to know that his junkie enjoyed that kind of talk as much as he did. “Keep going. I know you like it rough. I need to be as hard as I can possibly get.”

Minutes later, Neil batted Andrew’s hand away with disdain. “That’s good. Go back to holding the lid.”

Andrew did, instantly missing the weight and warmth of Neil’s cock in his hand. The only thing that kept him from whining was the knowledge that soon that weight and warmth would go up his ass.

Neil reached his hand down the right front pocket of Andrew’s pants to withdraw a packet of lube. “You came prepared?” he asked. “Were that desperate and hopeful when we left the house?”

Andrew nodded.

Aggressively, Neil pulled Andrew’s pants and underwear down. Unceremoniously, two slicked fingers invaded him. “Tsk, tsk,” Neil admonished. “You’ve opened yourself up earlier?”

“For you,” Andrew admitted.

“Did you come?”

Andrew was too mortified to give an answer.

“And who were you thinking of? Me? Or him?”

This answer was easy to give. “You.”

“I don’t believe you,” Neil countered, shoving a third finger inside Andrew’s ass. He set a fast pace without bothering in the least to locate Andrew’s prostate. Then, suddenly, the blunt head of Neil’s warm cock nudged against his stretched rim. Neil pushed forward and the head went in alongside his three fingers. Andrew moaned. He was full. So full.

The more Neil pressed in the more he withdrew his fingers. As soon as the digits were out, he used both hands as leverage in Andrew’s hair to fuck into him without mercy.

“Fuck yourself on my dick. Show me how you let him use you like the cock whore you are,” Neil grunted after a couple of minutes. thrusting harder and deeper with every few words leaving his mouth. When Andrew didn’t immediately do as he’d been requested to, Neil spanked his ass, hard, the sound echoing off the bathroom walls. The sound snapped him into action, and he pressed back to meet Neil’s powerful hip movements. “That’s it, I know you want it,” Neil whispered in his filthiest voice.

Andrew was melting.

He knew what was coming when Neil removed his hands from his hair and there were some beats of silence and incoordination. Then Neil grabbed both his hands, used something silken – the tie – to bind his wrist together behind his back. Without the use of his hands for balance, Andrew’s chest fell down against the top of the cistern gracelessly.

“Look at you,” Neil growled. “Bound and made for my pleasure alone. Be a good boy and keep fucking yourself on my cock. For every thrust you don’t meet, you’ll be getting a love tap.” He made his point clear by smacking his ass again.

“You like this,” he continued. “I think you did what you did because you knew what I would do to you. But don’t get too excited, this is the last time. We’re done after this. You think you deserve my dick, but you don’t.”

Andrew whined and began saying, “Neil, I’m…”

But Neil cut him off, shoving three fingers in his mouth, the same fingers that had been up his ass, and plunging them as far down as the position he was in behind Andrew would allow him to.

It was far down enough to choke Andrew and make him gag. “Shut the fuck up,” Neil growled. “No one wants to hear your pathetic voice.”

Andrew was burning with shame and it was good; he almost believed he had cheated on Neil and that he did deserve his junkie’s wrath. The very occasional gentle squeeze of Neil’s fingers, the ones not in his mouth, into the flesh of his waist, however, kept him tied to reality and focused on the scene.

Because that’s what it was, a scene.

Make-belief.

Fast and dirty.

But not real.

Neil came. Andrew felt it. Because Neil hadn’t put on a condom, and Andrew was glad for it; it made him feel close to him in a scene where lack of closeness was the point.

Neil fisted the hair on the top of Andrew’s head and pulled sharply. With that gesture, he then gave a powerful, contrary thrust forward, spilling his seed as deep inside Andrew as possible. Then he pulled out and pulled Andrew pants back up before tucking himself back in his and doing the zipper. He spun Andrew around and pushed him into a sitting position on the closed toilet lid. He kicked Andrew’s feet apart to spread his legs.

Only one last item in the scene to get through.

Well, technically two.

Neil plunged his hand down the front of Andrew’s pants and gripped his hard cock with a disgusted sneer on his face. The moment he started stroking him roughly and Andrew arched into the touch, he let go again. “Cheating bastards don’t get to come,” Neil spat at him. He glared at Andrew, then turned, and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Andrew flushed, and needy, and restrained.

He’d often gotten off to the thought of having to walk out of the bathroom with a raging hard-on and bound hands in his back, but now that the moment had come, now that the fantasy was turning to reality, he found he couldn’t do it. Instead, he fought futilely against the unforgiving knot of Neil’s tie, all the while his cock begged for attention.

They had a plan b for this, of course.

If after five minutes, Andrew hadn’t joined Neil in the car, Neil would come back into the bathroom. Which is exactly what he did. The moment their eyes met, Andrew broke down crying. Every dark and twisted feeling in his soul came to the surface and scrambled for release.

“Andrew?” Neil asked. His voice was his own again. The warmth and love in his eyes were the same warmth and love Andrew knew and had known for years. He crouched down by Andrew’s shaking form. “Talk to me. Can you talk to me?”

Andrew shook his head fiercely. Yet he still choked out, “Don’t ever leave me.”

“Oh, hey, no,” Neil whispered. He surged up to hold Andrew in his arms. “I will never leave you. You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. You are my partner, my best friend, my soulmate. No one knows how to love me like you do. No one respects me, listens to me, makes me laugh, holds me when I need to be held, like you do.” He cupped Andrew cheek. “I intend on growing old and grey-haired with you.”

Andrew hiccupped. “Do you know that I will never cheat on you?” He absolutely needed to make sure Neil knew this.

“Of course I do.”

“I mean it.”

“As do I.” Neil’s traced Andrew’s jaw with his thumb.

Andrew tried to breathe in deeply. “I couldn’t do it,” he apologized.

Neil shook his head and kissed Andrew’s forehead. “We knew this would happen. We knew there was the chance it would be too much. And it’s okay. We never have to do this again. I will never make you show yourself in public the way I see you in private.” He circled his hands around Andrew’s body and touched his bound wrists. “Let me untie you.”

Andrew nodded and relief flooded his senses the moment he had control of his arms again. In the wake of his distress and meltdown, his erection had flagged and died, so getting to his feet was semi-easy. He wanted to get the hell out. He needed to be home with Neil.

Neil stood and gazed directly into Andrew’s eyes. “When we walk out of here, I need you to keep your eyes on me the whole time. Don’t look at the people around the restaurant. They will be watching us. They will give us looks and glares. We ignore them. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“It’s you and me against the world. And when we’re home, my earlier promise still stands. If you want it.”

“I do. I need you.”

“You have me.”

Neil kept a hand on Andrew’s thigh the whole ride back to the house. And Andrew had his eyes closed, head resting against the window while the lamppost lights outside filtered on the inside of his eyelids, and he focused all his attention on the warmth radiating from Neil’s palm. He tried to zoom his attention in on the distinct press of five fingertips, and the more he managed, the more he settled back in his skin.

Neil’s hand on him kept the horrible thoughts about shame at bay.

At home, Neil shouldered Andrew all the way up the stairs and into their bathroom. He helped him get undressed, and Andrew hissed when Neil slowly took his underwear off – Neil’s cum had steadily leaked out of him and polled into the fabric. Neil turned the shower on, without once not having a part of himself touching him, and guided them under the spray. He cleaned Andrew softly, gently, letting Andrew rest his head against his shoulder the whole time.

Afterwards, Neil fed him pieces of chocolate and sips of water on the couch.

It took Andrew a while to return to himself without the feeling of failure tainting his thoughts. Neil had been right: they had known he would be unable to leave the restroom in a state of complete debauchery and submission. But Andrew had wanted to try, at least once.

“There you are, gorgeous,” Neil murmured when Andrew looked at him in the eyes for the first time since setting foot inside the Maserati. “Can I touch your face?”

“Yes.”

Neil traced the seam between Andrew’s two lips, ran a finger along his jaw, dipped across his cheek bone, and finally smoothed out the spot between his eyebrows. The touch was gentle and caring, and Andrew grabbed his wrist. He tugged.

Neil laughed and scooted closer to bring their bodies into contact.

Andrew was burning with a need to be even closer. He wanted every sense of Neil. “I need,” he therefore stuttered. It was hard to get out when he was still feeling vulnerable. He was usually much better at proclaiming his needs especially when it came to what he was about to say.

“Tell me. I will give it to you,” Neil assured him softly.

With a squeezed heart in his chest and a touch of cold spreading through his core, Andrew finally said, “I need my mouth on you. I need to feel you in my mouth.”

Neil looked away a moment, then down on his crotch, before returning his eyes on Andrew and saying, “I don’t think I can get hard again.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

It brought the smile back to Neil’s face.

“Yes or no?”

Neil kissed Andrew’s bare shoulder. “Yes. Where?”

“In our bed.”

Our bed.

Neil got up from the couch and took Andrew’s hand. He walked them over to their bedroom, took his clothes off and threw them in their hamper, then turned to face Andrew. Andrew was looking at him. At every part of him. The scars from years on the run. The scars from a psychopath who liked to play with his meals. The scars from a woman and a man Andrew wished he could resurrect and kill again a thousand times over. But that was far from everything he saw. He saw the fine, copper hair dusting his calves and thinning up his thighs, he saw the muscles beneath his skin, he saw his soft cock so delicate and precious, he saw his flat stomach and lovely nipples. He saw his lips that were built to form scathing insults when needed or to soothe with kisses. He saw eyes so blue Andrew wondered what magic lay in the world. He saw the freckles even if the scars on his face didn’t make them obvious. He saw his auburn hair, hair he had known as another color first until the truth had been forced out into the open.

This was his Neil.

And Andrew wanted his Neil to consume his senses. He got undressed to match Neil’s nakedness. He wasn’t hard either. That was not the point of this particular activity.

When he nodded and Neil nodded back, Neil went to lie down on the bed. “Where do you want me?” he asked softly.

“I need to be in a position where you can touch my back.”

Neil smiled and scooted inches to the left so he was lying almost on the edge of the bed. It was perfect. Andrew would be able to have his head in Neil’s lap and the rest of his body lying perpendicular. Which was exactly how he got into bed.

Immediately, Neil’s hands went in his hair. “Breathe, Andrew,” he reminded him.

Andrew took a deep breath.

“Take your time,” Neil added.

But Andrew did not want to waste any more time. He opened his mouth and closed his lips around the head of Neil’s cock. It was soft and warm, and the taste, sharp even after having showered, and the smell, even sharper if Andrew was being honest, so perfect – everything was exactly like he needed it.

He took the whole of Neil’s cock in his mouth which was much easier when it was soft then when it was hard, and he closed his eyes. He shifted his head around a little until it was placed perfectly on the thin layer of fat coating Neil’s thighs. Neil’s hands were caressing his back in never-ending circles.

Had it been acceptable, Andrew would have gladly stayed there the rest of his life.

He floated away after several minutes and fell asleep at some point.

When he woke again, his head was still in Neil’s lap and his mouth still full of Neil’s cock, and he blinked up at his junkie. “How are you doing?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t answer, just closed his eyes again.

“I’m going to need you to come back to me in five minutes, okay?”

Andrew tapped Neil’s hip bone three times – their signal for green.

The five minutes were gone too fast. Neil carded his hand through Andrew’s hair. “Sweetheart, it’s time. It’s been an hour.”

An hour?

Andrew would never have guessed.

He nodded and carefully pulled back, letting Neil’s cock fall out of his mouth. He caught it with his hand and placed it gently down so the tip touched the top of his legs. He couldn’t help himself, so he kissed the base.

It made Neil giggle.

God how Andrew loved that sound. But he was too tired to tell him so. Tomorrow. He would say all the words on his mind tomorrow.

“Sleep, my love, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

So Andrew fell asleep, his head still in Neil’s lap and his nose still close enough to his crotch that he could smell him.

Chapter Text

What a glorious sight.

Andrew was momentarily speechless. He was riding his dom high because Neil was gorgeous like that. The utter trust, so deep and genuine, the surrender to Andrew’s control, was truly mindboggling and an honor. He was humbled to say the least.

They had started the scene on the couch down in the living room with Andrew collaring Neil and getting his green light. Then he had traced his tongue down Neil’s scared chest, bitten the thin layer of fat right above the waistband of his underwear, and mouthed along his cock. Feeling it twitch and having ordered Neil to stay completely was amazing. Next thing, he had lifted the waistband and pulled it down to Neil’s ankles where he had maneuvered them in such a way Neil’s ankles were trapped from parting.

The taste and smell of his junkie had been sharp and invigorating. Andrew had refused to let Neil take a shower before getting started, which had made Neil blush a deep pink and splutter weak protests until Andrew had collared him and silenced him with a single sharp glare. Neil truly was getting better and better at following Andrew’s non-verbal directives.

Neil was always easier to move around after an intense orgasm, and getting him up the stairs to their bedroom where their bed awaited them, had been a joy of intimacy where Neil clung to him, still forbidden to talk unless asked and weak in the legs.

Now, Neil was standing in front of their bed, arms stretched high above his head, hands gripping the upper bedframe, with silk ropes tied around his wrists to the bed. His feet were fastened together with a bit of silk a few inches long to render him incapable of spreading his legs too much, and he was standing on his toes.

Restrained like that, he was entirely at Andrew’s mercy.

Andrew could in theory do anything to him, but he would only give him what they had talked about.

They had gone out a couple of months back to purchase that exact bed with scenes like these in mind, and they had made sure they’d had the house to themselves that weekend so they could assemble the bed in peace and quiet, away from prying eyes. The design of the four-poster bed with connecting steel bars at the top and the moveable wooden slat was a little too obvious, even for the untrained eyes.

Andrew stepped back to admire his junkie. He wanted to draw closer, wanted to run his tongue over every hill and valley of Neil’s spine, mouth at the tender spot just above his asscrack where even the smallest press of a fingertip was enough to rile him up and send him gasping, and he wanted to trace his side with his hands, from his hipbones, up his waist and ribs, further up his arms, to end up gripping his wrists over the smooth silk ropes.

Unfortunately, Andrew would need to exercise his patience for quite some time – he had promised Neil there would be no touching before all three items laid out on their dresser had been used.

Eagerly, he stepped over to the dresser to see what awaited him.

Before the start of the evening, Andrew had ordered Neil to go to their room and pick out his favorite crop, cane, and flogger. The choices laid before Andrew’s eyes did not surprise him. Neil had chosen their orange crop with the soft-worn leather at the tip, the sturdy and unbending thin cane made of oak they had ordered together online after their first cane had snapped halfway through a punishment, and finally, the traditional flogger Neil enjoyed immensely.

The point of the scene wasn’t pain. No. This was all about waking Neil’s body and senses, making him feel alive, and electric, and real.

Or.

Well.

Maybe, it was a little about pain?

Andrew saw a fourth item placed very consciously on the dresser. “You’ve taken liberties, Neil,” Andrew tutted. His tone was chiding, but he would give Neil what Neil needed.

“Can you?” Neil murmured, his voice half-gone with what Andrew knew was anticipation of the best kind, mixed in with the strain of the position Andrew had put him in.

Andrew picked up the Wartenberg pinwheel. It was a simple device, devilish, with three spiked wheels (three, because it was Andrew’s jersey number,) and made from stainless steel. It had been a while since the last time they had used it, but Andrew remembered well the pleasurepain he had felt all over his body, and his mind played the memory of Neil crying and shivering back at him from the time he had ordered Neil to part his asscheeks and present his hole. Andrew had then rolled the wheel over Neil’s rim, enjoying the way his hole had clenched and how he had needed to threaten Neil with punishment if he didn’t relax his ass and stopped clenching. As an extra measure, he had also forbidden flinches too, and Neil had cracked. He had broken down and surrendered.

With the weight of the Wartenberg pinwheel in his hand, Andrew made up his mind – Neil would come from the device or he wouldn’t come at all. That was the price for laying out something he hadn’t been given permission to. He put the pinwheel back down next to the flogger.

He walked over to Neil, got on the bed, and knelt up in front of his bound partner to look him in the eyes. “If I use it, there will be an important rule. Does that sound fair to you?”

Neil’s eyes were searching Andrew’s. Eventually, he nodded.

“Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes,” Neil muttered.

“I will put a cock ring on you, and you’re not allowed to come while I play with you with the first three things you put out for me to use.” Andrew listened to the uptick in Neil’s breathing that told him his junkie was on board. “Do you accept?”

“Green.”

“Very good, handsome. Is there anything you want before I begin with the crop?”

Neil begged, “Kiss me.”

Andrew didn’t answer, just licked one of his fingers and traced Neil’s lips with it. “Open up,” he said darkly. Neil did obediently, and Andrew slid his finger slowly along the softness of Neil’s tongue and down his throat. The gesture had been slow enough to alert Neil, still, he made a choking sound. Andrew chuckled, added two more fingers, and kissed the corner of Neil’s stretched lips. “There,” he said with amusement. “I think you’re ready now.” He removed his fingers and sucked Neil’s saliva off them. “Give me your safewords.”

“Green for go. Yellow for pause. Red and axe for stop.”

“That’s right. And you are right now?”

“Very, very green, Andrew.”

“Good. I’m green too.”

Neil gave him a plain look of what the fuck are you waiting for then, and Andrew answered it softly with, “I will take my time with you tonight, junkie. I won’t stop until you’ve left this world.”

Neil groaned, but whether it was with frustration or elation wasn’t clear.

“How are your wrists?” Andrew asked before getting started.

Neil looked up with the strength left in his shoulders. “Green.”

Andrew looked up as well and his eyes settled on Neils hands gripping the bar of the bed over his head. If all went according to plan, Neil would submit and become too weak to hold himself up and then the silks would catch him and hold him in place for him. Andrew would leave Neil suspended by the wrists for a maximum of five minutes before untying him and pulling him down into his arms on the bed.

Smiling to himself at the thought of a blissed-out Neil curled up against his chest, he hopped off the bed to go in search of a cock ring. As soon as his fingers closed around one in their play box, he returned to Neil.

Neil’s cock was already hard, and it was a nightmare for Andrew to not be allowed to bend his neck and suck the pearly bead of precum at the tip into his mouth. Instead, he made sure the silicone ring was tight around the base of Neil’s dick and balls as clinically as possible – the bit of contact with delicate skin made Andrew’s heart sing, and it was incentive enough to get going.

First order of business was the crop. It was soft, and without any force behind the hits, Neil only gasped and arched into the impact when it made contact with his skin.

Andrew made sure to stay clear of some of Neil’s bigger and deeper scars, but otherwise cropped every part of Neil’s shoulders, back, and ass. No marks were left behind. Already at the end of five minutes, Neil’s grip against the bar was less white-knuckled.

When Andrew picked up the cane, his own heart accelerated in his chest, building a wild crescendo of excitement, and he swung it through the air with force to feel very little air resistance against it.

Neil flinched visibly.

Fuck.

Andrew was behind him instantly and touching his neck reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His words had an instant soothing effect on Neil. “I was just testing it. I’ll go gentle on you. Like we agreed.” He kissed Neil’s neck, feeling the small hairs there tickle his lips and nose. He closed his eyes and breathed his junkie in – even after years of their dynamic, he sometimes made mistakes, and what dumb mistakes they were.

Looking up at Neil’s hands, he saw that they were holding on tight again; Neil had lost some of his laxness on account of the cane flying through the air and spiking fear.

Andrew was going to have to start his efforts all over again, and he would have to do better.

With the lightest of taps, Andrew connected the cane to the inside of Neil’s left thigh, then asked, “Color?”

Neil’s green was liberating.

Andrew took his sweet time from then on, rushing through none of the hits.

He moved up Neil’s inner thigh leisurely, the smacks of the cane merely surface strikes that left no redness behind – Andrew was careful about this since Neil had asked for no visible marks, and he would rather burn in hell than disrespect any of Neil’s limits, even if by accident.

When Andrew moved closer and closer to the place where Neil’s thigh met his pelvis, Andrew lightened his strikes to just murmurs, and said, “Stay still, my love.” He didn’t have eyes on Neil’s cock but from how heavy and full Neil’s balls looked, it could only be hard, and he didn’t want to smack the sensitive flesh. The problem with this was that Neil had started squirming and shifting his body with impatience.

With a huff, Neil nodded.

As soon as Andrew had crossed over to Neil’s other thigh with the cane, he deepened the strikes just enough so each hit was audible in the room, even over Neil’s breathy gasps. When Andrew looked up it looked as if Neil’s hands seemed less able to carry his weight and hold on.  

Andrew smacked Neil across both asscheeks, and Neil moaned in surprise. The sound travelled directly down into Andrew’s ballsack; he almost cursed at how intensely his cock twitched, twice. Andrew repeated the strokes three times, because as patient as he was, the sound of Neil’s moans and the way his body reacted to it like siren song, was an incredible high.

Neil’s head started dropping lower, the muscles in his neck and shoulders surrendering to the sensation of the cane.

While administering even numbers of strikes to both cheeks from where they rounded to where they evened out into Neil’s back, Andrew felt the familiar rush come over him; something in him urged him to go harder, but tonight he would not listen. He stopped the caning to inspect his work and noted with satisfaction that nothing was left on Neil’s skin to indicate the passage of the cane. Three times, only three times, the slightest blush of pink in the form of a straight, thin line had bloomed, but they had each blinked out of existence before the next hit.

Pleased, and a little proud, Andrew continued up Neil’s back, always delighting in the way Neil’s body swayed in his position, keeping each strike perfectly paralleled to the scars, never crossing them.

Before forgoing the cane and moving on, Andrew dragged the tip down Neil’s spine where he so desperately wanted his tongue and lips to journey, down, down, down, until the tip disappeared inside the cleft, letting it catch tauntingly on his rim and prodding at his balls.

Neil choked on a yelp and his body sagged further.

“Shh, baby, just a little more,” Andrew cooed. In his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than to press the tip of the cane into Neil’s ass, but he banished the image.

Another time, maybe.

Perhaps Andrew could rim him while sinking the cane in inch by tantalizing inch? He stored the idea in a mental drawer for future ideas that would need discussing.

“I’m going to flog you now,” he announced instead. He threw the cane on the bed where Neil would be able to see it.

The flogger Neil had chosen for this scene was their first flogger, and in Andrew’s opinion, it was beautiful. It was basic, and perfectly balanced, allowing for longer and harder floggings at a time. It was black leather with hints of dark orange in the Turk’s head knots at the butt of the shaft and at the neck where the tails were attached to the shaft.

From tails tip to the hanging loop, the size of the flogger was approximately the length of Andrew’s arm from shoulder to wrist.

The leather tails were supple and cut in wide stripes, the purpose of them being sensation, not so much heavy impact.

They had tried several different kinds of floggers, and enjoyed playing with most of them, but it seemed they always came back to this one, perhaps for sentimental reasons, but also because these particular soft leather tails, while absolutely capable of inflicting pain when swung with enough force, were gentle on Neil’s scars. They had seen a flogger in a shop once with chains, and they had turned to each other in complete agreement: no.

Andrew gripped the shaft and sighed. When he turned, Neil was starting to struggle with keeping pressed up on his toes; it wouldn’t be long now. Andrew ran his fingers through the tails almost the way he would Neil’s hair.

He gave Neil a slow once over as he got in position. He knew the distance from which to stand for only the very ends of the tails to reach Neil’s skin. He couldn’t see his junkie’s face, but he didn’t need to, to see how close Neil was slipping. He threw the flogger without warning and it kissed Neil’s shoulder who tipped his head back and inhaled sharply through the sudden tiny sting.

Andrew knew how that first connection of leather to shoulder was waking up Neil’s skin more than the crop or the cane had. The second strike to Neil’s other shoulder had Neil’s breathing hitching delightfully and his body arching forward slightly, pulling on his restraints.

The third hit, Andrew made sure connected with the little of Neil’s back, and he went at it so slowly that the tail tips slid caressingly down the skin of his ass. From there, it was a steady climb in speed and intensity. Andrew moved his wrist and forearms expertly until he was forming eight figures in the air and striking Neil in a series all over his back, ass, and thighs.

Not a single hit left a mark.

Neil’s fingers were truly slipping on the bar over his head, but he was valiantly holding on.

“I like seeing you like this,” Andrew pointed out, maybe more to himself than to his junkie.

“Oh, god,” Neil mumbled. It was followed by a whine. “Andrew.”

“Yes?”

“Harder.”

Andrew considered this. He wanted to, but they had decided before the scene’s start to go light. He would give it to him though, very much so. “Color?”

“Green.”

Andrew nodded and took a step closer so more of the flogger would hit Neil. His next trike made a nice thudding sound that resonated in the room. Neil gasped louder than before. “Yes,” he said, making sure to encourage Andrew on; it worked.

A flush spread down from Neil’s hairline in his neck, creeping under the collar to his shoulders that had nothing to do with the flogging.

After five more minutes of Neil’s gasps turning into weak cries, Andrew dropped the flogger at his feet. He hurried over to their dresser one last time and picked the Wartenberg pinwheel up and put it in his back pocket.

He went over to the bed, climbed up, and positioned himself on his knees the way he had before getting started. Neil’s face was a goner, his eyes glassy and his mouth hanging open in near-submission. “Let go,” Andrew told him in a deep voice. “You liked this, and it’s time for you to let go of your control.”

Neil nodded. Then whimpered when Andrew gripped his hair in one hand and his cock in the other. Andrew slid his fist up and down the hardened flesh, the dry motion of his hand no doubt falling on the painful side of pleasure. Neil’s eyes fluttered.

Andrew let go of Neil’s cock abruptly, cutting of his junkie’s build, and pulled the pinwheel out of his pocket.

Neil was so close to the threshold between worlds, and Andrew itched something fierce to shove him through. The importance and power afforded to him in these teetering moments wasn’t lost on him, and all over again, he was humbled.

He was hard in his underwear, but he would do nothing about it for a while. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Remember the fourth thing you so cheekily put on the dresser?” he asked Neil after a couple of seconds, pulling sharply on his hair.

Neil whined.

“I need you to actually say it, or we’re stopping here,” Andrew warned his junkie. He needed to be sure. Maybe the prospect of pain wasn’t as attractive after having most of his nerve endings on his body activated as it had been when Neil had decided to remove the wheel from their play box, and Andrew would respect that.

“Wheel,” Neil only managed to croak.

“And?”

“Spikes.”

Okay then. Neil did remember. “Do you still want to?”

“Yes,” Neil begged.

“You realize what it is I’m going to do to you? What it is you’re asking of me?”

Neil nodded.

Andrew grabbed his jaw in his other hand, tightening his fingers and letting the handle of the pinwheel dig into his flesh. Darkly, he warned, “I won’t go easy on you.” He pulled Neil’s hair to expose his throat. “I want to break you.”

“Yes.”

When Andrew released his junkie, Neil slumped and his grip on the bar of the bed over his head was as weak as Andrew had ever seen it all evening long.

Delicious.

A change came over Andrew, he felt it down to his bones.The steel of the handle of the Wartenberg pinwheel had warmed to his temperature, and he sighed at how good it looked in his hand. He grabbed Neil’s balls and ran the spikes of the wheels over the sensitive skin.

Neil only shuddered, so Andrew pressed the spikes into the flesh deeper.

This time, Neil cried out, and Andrew saw tears gather in his eyes. He continued the torture on Neil’s balls before moving the wheel up the length of Neil’s dick.

Neil shouted and he was only barely hanging on.

“You will come from this, or you won’t come at all,” Andrew said speaking out loud what his mind had decided earlier. He unfastened the cock ring and admired the way Neil's dick hardned more and filled. Neil’s eyes fell shut with tears escaping down his cheeks. “Color?” Andrew asked quickly. These were the moments when Neil wasn’t always good at communicating his limits if not asked to do so explicitly.

“Green. Andrew.” Neil yelled the moment Andrew ran the spikes of the wheel over the slit of his dick.

“Come, sweetheart.”

“I can’t,” Neil cried desperately. He was wrong of course.

Andrew darkened his tone with authority. “You can and you will, because I am telling you.” He looked up and saw Neil’s fingers slipping, slipping. And then let go entirely of the bar. Neil came and slumped in the next breath. “Good boy,” Andrew praised him, working him through his orgasm with his hand enclosing the head and the pinwheel pressing into the back of Neil’s ballsack. When cum stopped spurting from Neil’s cock, Andrew released him and let him float in the pure submission letting go of the bar signified.

He leaned back on his heels and watched Neil hang lifelessly. He loved him like this.

Five minutes passed, and Andrew’s leaned over to their nightstand to fetch the scissors waiting for him. He cut the silks near the bar of the bed and Neil dropped down into his outstretched arm. Tossing the scissors away from him, he murmured, promised, “I’ve got you, my love. I’m not dropping you. Not ever.”

Neil’s arms came around him, and he nodded into Andrew’s neck as he was being lowered onto Andrew’s body. He had sunk hard.

Andrew dropped onto the mattress while Neil left this world.

Chapter Text

“Come, sweetheart,” was Andrew’s command and as much as Neil wanted to obey, he wasn’t sure he would be able to. His hands were millimeters from slipping, his entire body was more alive than he had felt it in a long while, and the spikes were digging into his dick, running up, and then down again, slowly, painfully.

“I can’t,” Neil cried, because he couldn’t. He didn’t want to disappoint Andrew, but what Andrew was asking of him wasn’t possible. Distantly, his mind reminded him that he could safeword if he continued to panic. A single word and the torture would come to an end.

But Neil didn’t want to safeword. He wanted to come. He wanted to –

“You can and you will, because I am telling you.”

And that was that. Neil’s hold on the bar loosened, he finally felt his balls draw up, and then he came. It happened simultaneously. His hands let go and his cock exploded. It was – it was; oh, there were no words, just a moment of freefall and then the silk ropes catching him. They dug into his wrists, but not nearly as uncomfortably as Neil had feared the would.

Andrew’s hand was around the head of his dick, squeezing, and the pinwheel was pressed to the back of his balls. When Neil’s orgasm had run its course, Andrew took his hand and the wheel away.

Neil registered in a part of his brain how Andrew pulled back, and what he saw, his head bowed and nothing holding him up but the silks, were Andrew’s knees as the goalkeeper settled down to sit on his heels.

Then everything swam out of focus. Neil drifted. Neil was no more.

The more he drifted, the heavier his body, the deeper the silks cut into his wrists. But it didn’t matter. He was free. He surrendered fully. He closed his eyes, the only sound being Andrew’s breathing, which sounded loud and clear, like the call of something private and intimate.

It didn’t feel like only five minutes had ticked on the clock when Andrew shifted on the mattress. Neil’s head was too heavy, too sluggish for him to lift it and track the goalkeeper’s movement; one moment Andrew was out of sight, the next he was back and kneeling up.

There was a slight cutting noise.

The real freefall happened then. It didn’t last long.

It lasted forever.

His body was falling, falling, with Andrew to catch him at the bottom.

To say that Andrew was soft would be to lie – landing on the mattress would have been far, far softer – but Andrew’s way of catching Neil as soon as the silks had been cut off, was all the softness Neil needed in his life. It was gentle. It was caring. It was considerate. It was wrapped up in so much love Neil almost believed he was dreaming.

In short, all the things his childhood and teen years had lacked.

Andrew lowered himself fully onto the mattress, and Neil was pulled down with him so that his head rested on the goalkeeper’s chest. “I’m here, Neil. I’m right here. And I’ll be here when you come back.”

Neil came back some time later surprised to find Andrew’s thumb in his mouth and gently massaging his tongue. He opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. He swallowed and the motion of this against Andrew’s finger alerted Andrew to his awareness.

“My love,” Andrew whispered. He pulled his thumb out of Neil’s mouth. “It’s time.”

It was time. Neil could feel it in his body. Any more time and he would be nothing but a lump of Jell-O wrapped in human skin. He nodded and tried to sit up. Wrong move.

“Hey, hey, don’t. Take your time.”

With hands caressing and massaging his shoulders, Neil slowly, oh so slowly, began to feel his limbs again. They were there, they took shape and resumed function, and soon enough he was able to sit.

Andrew leaned away a moment to fetch the bottle of water on his nightstand. “Drink this,” he told him, helping him drink, sip by sip. “That’s good. Are you hungry?”

Neil nodded. His stomach was a riot of protests hungering for food. He was also cold despite having been wrapped up in Andrew and snuggled under their duvet. Andrew had a solution for that as well. He reached over to the end of the bed and his hand came back with Neil’s favorite, soft long-sleeved t-shirt. It was old, and the material so worn it was soothing against his skin after a scene where his skin had been awakened tenfold.

“Thank you,” he croaked when Andrew hand fed him slices of apples and oranges.

“How are you feeling?” Andrew only asked when Neil had eaten everything and drunk at least a third of the bottle.

Neil chuckled and answered, “Good,” because he did feel good. He felt wonderful. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to sleep.”

“Not yet,” Neil replied. What he really wanted to do was to look at Andrew’s face. Really look at the man he loved submitting to.

Naturally, Andrew broke the spell by muttering, “Staring.”

“I like staring at you,” Neil retorted with a powerful roll of his eyes. “I never had anything so precious to call my own before.”

The blush that spread along Andrew’s cheekbones was more beautiful than a sunset over the ocean.

When they finally shot the light and settled against one another like two puzzle-pieces custom made to fit perfectly together, Neil grabbed Andrew’s hair in a loose grip to anchor himself.

He woke up alone the next morning, to an empty bed, cold and desolate. Again, this wasn’t uncommon the mornings after scenes, but it was especially hard this time around. Something was wrong. It was a feeling in the air, a small voice at the back of his mind. He let his hand roam to Andrew’s side of the bed, wishing for just the barest remnants of his body heat, only to find it completely gone.

With a heavy heart, and the beginning of a headache, Neil got out of bed and shuffled into shorts and a less-than clean t-shirt. He opened the door and traipsed down the stairs to the kitchen. Just before turning down the hallway, he looked over his shoulder to the steel bars at the top of their bed – the silks were completely gone. Nothing remained to bear testimony to the previous night’s activities.

Walking down the stairs, he was happy and relieved to feel no pain on his back or thighs or ass. Not that he had expected any, Andrew was nothing if not one hundred percent respectful of the way they had decided to do a scene. Neil had asked for no pain, no marks, and Andrew had delivered. Andrew had exercised immaculate control and restraint. Neil could only imagine how hard that must have been for him.

Neil had been at his mercy. Unable to fight back. Unable to defend himself should things go south.

Things never went south.

Neil found Andrew at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand and a vacant look in his eyes. It broke Neil’s heart since it cemented his suspicion that something was wrong. “Did something happen last night?” left his mouth before he got the chance to censor himself or find a more graceful way to ask what was going on.

Andrew shook his head but didn’t look at Neil, just focused his eyes on the brown surface of his coffee. 

“Didn’t you like it?” Neil pressed on.

In a clipped voice, Andrew replied, “I did.” He wasn’t lying, there was that at least. 

The strain in Andrew’s voice told Neil he had to tread carefully. He stepped closer, nudged the inside of Andrew’s knees with his hand to part them, then stepped between them. “Can you look at me?” Though Andrew didn’t even make a sign he had heard him, Neil added, “Andrew. I need you to look at me. I need to know if I did something wrong.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Was the wheel too much?” Neil had known he was playing with fire when he had set it out. But his eyes had caught on it, and it had felt right to need it. And need it he had. For whatever reason.

“No.” 

“Then what.” 

No answer.

“Andrew, look at me.” Please. The word was on the tip of his tongue, and he didn’t know how else to reach Andrew. 

He closed his eyes.

Space. 

That was the only solution. 

When, or if, Andrew was ready to speak, it would have to be on his initiative. It hurt Neil but there was nothing else to do. “I’ll take my shower,” he therefore said. He stepped out from between Andrew’s legs and walked away from him without looking back. 

Neil stayed under the spray for close to half an hour, most of which he simply spent standing frozen with the water beating down on his shoulders and head. He closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail of the night before. The problem was that Neil had had his back turned to Andrew and was unable to pinpoint a moment when it could have gone wrong. Being unable to catalogue Andrew’s expression seemed in retrospect a bad idea, even if it had never been a bad idea in the past. Part of the thrill was to not know where the next swat would land.

Was it the cane?

Was it his flinching?

He never should have flinched. He should have trusted Andrew, that he wouldn’t hurt him, not in that scene where he didn’t have permission to hurt him. 

Neil was just about to turn the water off when the bathroom door opened and closed again. Through the glass of the shower cabin, Neil saw Andrew come in. The goalkeeper had something on his mind, his shoulders were hunched, but just the fact that he had come into the bathroom was a big deal. 

Andrew taking off his clothes was another big deal. 

“Can I join you?” He asked Neil a little shyly from the other side of the glass cabin.

“There’s always room for you next to me,” Neil said sincerely. Andrew’s place had been next to him since Andrew had offered his protection and then a key.

Andrew opened the cabin door and stepped in next to Neil where he belonged. He allowed Neil to wash him, his body, his hair, then grabbed his hands to still him. 

“What’s going on Andrew?”

Andrew’s eyes finally met Neil’s full-on. “I liked it. Last night. A lot. I love seeing you so relaxed, so trusting and all mine.” 

“Okay? Then what?”

“It’s the things in my mind. Sometimes they scare me.”

Neil nodded. “You don’t have to be scared, Andrew.”

With a step back, Andrew pulled away. “You can’t say that, Neil. You don’t know what I was thinking.”

“We’ve shared our thoughts before. What makes this one worse?”

Andrew hung his head. “I came close to breaching a limit.”

“But you didn’t,” Neil retorted adamantly. And that was the important distinction, wasn’t it? Neil himself had before come close to overstepping. It wasn’t easy domming. It came with so much responsibility, so much power, so much strength, it was hard not to give in. To allow yourself to be swept up in the whirlwind of serotonins. But looking at the sub in front of them, in pure submission, was always enough to hold them back.

Andrew and Neil had talked about that, a lot.

“Tell me. This is a safe space.” Neil gestured to the shower cabin. It brought a tiny smile to Andrew’s lips. They usually didn’t have these important talks in the bathroom.

“Since it’s a safe space,” Andrew mocked, and it was good. “I was holding the cane. I was trailing it down your back. Down your crack. Your breath hitched when it touched your hole.” Andrew closed his eyes. Could it really be that bad Neil wondered? “I wanted to fuck you with it.”

Neil didn’t mean to sound dismissive when he said, “That’s it?”

Andrew bristled. “It’s a cane, Neil. It’s not wide enough to even remotely give you pleasure. It’d be purely self-indulgent on my part.”

“First, you don’t know that I wouldn’t feel pleasure from you fucking me with the cane. The idea alone might make up for any actually pressure inside.” Neil took a step closer. “Second, your pleasure brings me pleasure.”

Andrew snorted.

It didn’t keep Neil from imagining the scene for himself. He would most likely be on his hands and knees, back bowed, Andrew behind him, caressing his ass, his lower back, his thighs, all while pressing the cane in. Inch by inch.

Fuck.

Neil tried to hide his shiver.

“I would rim you. I would make it feel good. I just –”

“What?”

“I can’t get it out of my mind.”

“Let’s do it,” Neil said, plastering himself against Andrew. “I want to.”

“Neil,” Andrew warned. There was a deep look of worry in his eyes, and maybe Neil had underestimated how freaked out Andrew was about his own fantasy?

That wouldn’t do. There was nothing wrong with Andrew, or his fantasy, or his desire to treat Neil like nothing but a means to explore. Because all exploring they did together. “Listen to me,” he commanded therefore. “We agreed, a long time ago, that we would try anything that intrigues us. And that we will never do it again if one of us doesn’t like it. Hey,” he added when Andrew tried to look away from his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.” He made sure to carry on only when Andrew’s eyes were back on him. “I want to try it, because you would get off on it, and I probably will too, if you rim me at the same time. You don’t even need to tell me why you want to try. What your thoughts are behind it. It’s you, Andrew. I trust you. I can safeword out at any time and I know you will stop the moment I do.”

“In an instant.”

“Exactly. Let’s talk more about it later, okay?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes or no?” he asked, leaning his face closer to Neil’s.

“Yes.”

The kiss was sweet and slow, all lips and tongue and nibbling teeth, the way Neil enjoyed it the most. It also helped Andrew ease out of his fear. His shoulders relaxed. His smile returned. His eyes softened. He was gentler with himself, and nothing mattered more to Neil.

They went about their day in peaceful companionship. They went for a ride in the good weather, sharing cigarettes and sweets at rest stops, climbing onto the Maserati’s roof to look at the clouds go by.

They ate dinner at home, a simple affair of pasta and pesto and loads of cheddar cheese galore.

After finishing up in the kitchen, Neil rolled his neck a few times, then walked down the hallway to the living room where the gentle humming of the television alerted him to Andrew’s presence. The goalkeeper looked soft in the light of the lamp in the corner, and even more relaxed than Neil had seen him all day. There wasn’t a glass of alcohol near him, so it was a perfect time for Neil to open yet another channel of communication.

He barely had to take two steps into the room before Andrew heard him, or sensed him, and turned his head to nod his acknowledgment. There was the risk Andrew wouldn’t be up for the talk, but Neil knew it was important to get any residual fear and worries out of the way as fast as possible. He therefore sat down next to Andrew, sideways to the couch so he was facing Andrew full on; he tucked one foot under his thigh and leaned his elbow on the back cushion.

“We should talk,” was his graceless way to broach the subject.

Andrew rolled his eyes, but still muted the television. He turned to mirror Neil limb for limb. “Talk then.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Not yet.”

Neil nodded. He took a deep breath. “You talked about object insertion, earlier.”

“I talked about one object,” Andrew corrected.

“Have you ever only had that one fantasy?” Neil didn’t think that could be.

Andrew clenched his jaw, and spoke through gritted teeth and barely parted lips, “No.”

“What else then?”

Andrew shook his head.

“Andrew,” Neil tried to soothe him. “I want to try whatever it is you want to try. If something freaks me out when you say it, you know the drill. We don’t do it. And I trust you to accept that.”

“Of course,” Andrew said a little aggressively.

“Good. Now, will you tell me? Or do you want me to guess and you say yes or no?”

Andrew rolled his eyes at the stupid suggestion, and it was a good sign. “You love the flogger so much. I’ve been thinking about fucking you with it. Make it feel good on the inside of your body too.”

Oh the reaction was instantaneous and out of Neil’s control. He felt the tingles in his ass cheeks come to life that always tickled him when he thought of something taboo. He felt the coil of eagerness in his gut, and his asshole nearly pulsed like his heart had migrated south to take up residence there. He felt warm and fuzzy, and he knew he would be able to give Andrew that one fantasy, and take the flogger deep in his ass. “Tell me more,” he allowed, desperate to keep his want out of his voice.

The way Andrew pulled his eyebrows together, coupled with the sly smile teasing the left corner of his lips, told Neil he was doing a lousy job hiding his excitement from the goalkeeper. “Okay. I’ve just been thinking, whenever I have the flogger in my hand, and I look down on it, how perfectly strong and sturdy it is. If I fucked you with it, you would feel it. And the knots.” Andrew stopped.

The knots.

Neil hadn’t even thought of those.

His labored breathing definitely bore witness to how much he was thinking about it now. “The knots?” he prompted. 

“I’ll watch the first one catch on your rim and tease you with it. Your ass will eventually relax enough to suck it right in, and I’ll push and push. It will destroy your prostate the moment I get the angle right. I’ll fuck you with it, hard. And when you come, I’ll shove the second knot inside you and leave the flogger there.” By the time he was done, Andrew’s eyes were dark.

Neil knew his eyes were no different. “We should do it.”

“You want to?”

“Yes. Can I touch you?”

Andrew nodded and repeated his question. “You want to?”

Neil’s hands flew into Andrew’s hair, and he tugged hard enough to lead Andrew’s face closer so he could kiss him. “Yes, Andrew, I do.”

With strong hands, Andrew flipped them around a little, so Neil was sprawled on his back, and Andrew was straddling his thighs. “You want me to fuck you with the flogger? Maybe after I’ve used it on your back and ass? Bend you over our bed? I could spank you while it’s in there after you’ve come?” His tone was dark, and addictive. Then he gentled everything down. He leaned over to gaze into Neil’s eyes. “Hi,” he said. “What do you want right now?”

With shaking arms, Neil cupped Andrew’s face in his hands. “Just you. However way you can.”

“I want to go slow on you. Soft.”

“Yes.”

It was sweet, and slow, and soft, the way Andrew took Neil apart on the couch. The flogger fantasy was laid to rest for now, and it was just the two of them in that living room.

After, they took a shower together where Neil returned the favor on his knees, and then they went to bed in soft clothes and even softer smiles. Andrew looped his arm and leg around Neil to pull him closer, and Neil was just about to fall asleep when he remembered to say, “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You make it easy,” Andrew replied.

⁎

Neil felt the first tendrils of something something roaming the outer edges of his mind a few days later. At first, it was easily negligible and could be put down to lack of proper sleep. At the end of the weekend, they’d had more sex without dominance and submission, enough of it to leave them with less than enough hours of sleep coming back to Palmetto.

Practice with the Foxes on Monday afternoon went really well. Neil was proud of them, proud of himself too, and of Andrew for finally, finally, giving just a bit more of a shit than before (hardly a feat in itself, but still.)

Things, however, began a steady and unpleasant decline when Neil tore into Nicky after Nicky had fumbled with a pass from Sheena a few days later. Neil’s words were scathing and unforgiving, and although he knew at the very back of his mind that he was wrong flying off the handle like that, it felt so good.

Why were people so incompetent?

Of all people it was Aaron who went over to his cousin, who put a hand on Nicky’s arm, and who steered him away with a heartfelt and vicious, “Fuck you, Josten.”

Andrew left his goalkeeper box and marched over to Neil, but Neil simply turned to him and said, “Leave me alone. You’re not the boss of me.”

“Neil.”

“Shut up,” Neil retorted. The sound of his own name on Andrew’s tongue was infuriating. Then, in a lowered tone, he added, “I’m not wearing the collar. So fuck off.”

He watched in a masochistic mix of horror and pleasure how Andrew nodded with a tight-lipped half-smile and how he politely walked away like he’d not-so politely been asked to do. That night, Neil stayed away from the dorm, away from all of his and Andrew’s places and spots, sleeping instead on one of the library couches after breaking in.

Next day, his mind was a web of fury and frustration, least of all because Andrew found him on one of the benches on the lawn behind the food hall. The goalkeeper’s expression was too soft, too caring, too worried, and Neil wanted to sink his teeth into it and destroy it. Where was Andrew’s apathy when he needed it? Where was the cold, unemotional guy Neil had fallen in love with?

Why did Andrew have to know him so well, so well indeed that he knew to keep his mouth shut and just keep Neil company on the bench in complete silence.

It became too much. Neil straightened, stood, and walked away without a word.

The next couple of days, he was certain Andrew kept an eye on him, and it drove him up the wall. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing. People were allowed mood swings and frustration. It didn’t always mean anything, so why was Andrew looking for a meaning?

Why was Andrew being so soft the few times Neil allowed him to kiss him? Didn’t he know Neil wasn’t fragile, wasn’t a small thing to be treasured and protected? For god’s sake, he was the butcher’s son, he could take any kind of roughness. He craved it. It’s why he submitted.

Coming home from a shitty practice where nothing had gone well, despite Coach telling him he was being too hard on the team, too hard on himself, Neil saw the glass of water he had left on the kitchenette counter before heading the Foxhole Court, and he picked it up. He threw it against the wall where it shattered into a million small diamonds. Water splattered everywhere, and Neil had one idea in mind – to walk over to the shards and step on them with bare feet.

Andrew stopped him in an instant, holding him back by the wrists.

The touch burned. It burned, and burned, and burned, and only stopped when he wrenched himself free from Andrew’s grip. “Leave me alone,” he snarled.

“No,” Andrew replied harshly. “This has got to stop. You’re dropping.”

“I am not dropping, Andrew. You don’t know shit about me. You think you do, but how well do you even know yourself?”

The hurt look on Andrew’s face was rewarding.

Fleeing the scene, fleeing the mess on the floor and the mess in Andrew’s eyes, Neil hurried into the bathroom. He went about his nighttime routine, mind buried in darkness.

Then came the crash. It was slow in manifesting itself, but as soon as it had its hold on Neil, it latched on ferociously. He was brushing his teeth and purposefully looking away from his reflection, from his blue eyes, when he felt the cold seep into him. A few seconds later, he dropped the toothbrush in the sink with a loud clang and he had just enough wits about him to spit the toothpaste foam out before sinking to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. “Andrew?” he called weakly.

Andrew had been right.

He was dropping, and probably had for a little while.

Andrew would know what to do.

It had been ages since the last time.

The goalkeeper was in the bathroom and on his knees in front of Neil in a heartbeat, and he cradled Neil’s head in his hands. He didn’t need to talk, didn’t need to ask – whatever was written on Neil’s face was saying all he needed to know. “I’m here, I’m right here,” he murmured over and over again.

Neil clutched Andrew’s t-shirt, pulled him closer while sagging against him. Andrew let him, just rearranged their positions so his legs were wrapped around Neil, and Neil was held by strong arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Neil sobbed into Andrew’s chest. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Neil,” Andrew spoke softly. He held Neil’s head close to his heart. “We’ve said worse things to each other, and not once have we meant them.”

It wasn’t comforting, not in the least.

More sobs tore through his core and came out as muffled howls into the soft cotton of Andrew’s t-shirt. “Don’t leave me.” Where that came from, Neil had no idea. One minute his mind had felt guilt and shame, the next fear and apprehension.

“Not a chance in hell, Neil.”

Not a chance in hell.

And it must have been the truth, because here Neil was, in hell, and here Andrew was too, his rock and salvation.

“Can you stand?” Andrew asked him.

Neil nodded.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

No, no, no, no. He was weak for needing more care. One round of aftercare after a scene should be enough. Andrew should not have to go through the same loop twice. “Yes.”

Andrew staggered to his feet and helped Neil up with him. He shouldered Neil into the bedroom, and helped him out of his clothes with respectful hands, and into his sleep shirt and shorts. He excused himself the briefest of moments to make a call. Neil heard his lowered voice say, “We need the room to ourselves. Yes. It’s Neil, he isn’t well. Yeah. Thanks.”

It’s Neil. He isn’t well.

Neil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear forever.

When Andrew’s hands found Neil’s shoulders, he spun him gently around so they were face to face. “Do you want to sleep?”

Neil shook his head. Though he was tired. Though his body was in pain. Though his mind was in an uproar. He wanted to stay awake, with Andrew, where the darkness always seemed to recede.

“Okay,” Andrew agreed. Instead, he took Neil into the common room and got started on tea and a sandwich. “Have you eaten lately?”

With shame running through his veins, Neil shook his head again.

“That’s okay,” Andrew reassured him. “Will you eat something if I make it?”

Neil nodded. He would, he absolutely would.

An hour later, they were in bed, Andrew’s arms around Neil and his mouth near Neil’s ear, constantly speaking words of affirmation and praise. It lulled Neil enough that after a while he was able to fall asleep, and for the first time in a few days, he didn’t dream.

Things were slightly better in the morning. First of all, Andrew was still in bed with him, second, Neil was warm and sluggish and comfortable. When he glanced at the flashing radio-clock on Kevin’s bedside table, he saw it was past ten o’clock. He was late to his class.

“Good morning,” Andrew muttered sleepily when Neil shifted around.

“I’ve got class.”

“You and me both. We’re not going anywhere.”

Neil sighed. “Andrew. I can’t just not go to class.”

“It’s pretty simple. You stay here, with me. Case closed.”

Closing his eyes, Neil took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened or what brought it on. I was fine. I really was.”

Andrew turned on his side so he could look at Neil without twisting his neck. “I believe you.”

“Why? Why did it happen then?”

Shrugging, a darkness entered Andrew’s eyes. “Maybe I shared my thoughts about fucking you with various objects too soon. We’d barely emerged from the scene. It was too soon.”

No. Neil didn’t think that was it. He’d loved hearing more of Andrew’s thoughts and fantasies and desires. None of that was cause for dropping.

“I shouldn’t have been so graphic,” Andrew added.

“Stop that,” Neil admonished gently. “I asked you, remember? I wanted to know.”

“I remember,” Andrew agreed. “Doesn’t make it right that I told you.”

“It’s always right when you share with me.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the first time one of us has gone low. I’m thankful you’re here. And I look forward to you making good on your words,” Neil carefully teased the goalkeeper.

“Careful what you say, rabbit.”

For the first time in days, Neil laughed. It was bright. It was blooming. It felt like life.

Chapter Text

November 4^th.

Not Andrew favorite day. Far from it. It was Andrew Doe’s birthday before it ever became Andrew Minyard’s birthday. But this time it was slightly different. Neil and him have been talking. How can I make it good? You’ve always been there for me. Neil asked this every year but this time Andrew’s answer had been different from his usual, Ignore it and you’re good.

This year, he had told Neil he wanted to do a scene. It would give him something to look forward to, something to get out of bed for. It would be wonderful despite what was presently going on now being wonderful too. They were alone in the room and both of Neil’s hands were wrapped around his hard and leaking cock, working him over slowly. He wasn’t far from orgasms when Neil slowed down. “Can you take one more?” Neil asked.

Edging. The little shit had been edging Andrew for half an hour.

“Promise it’s only one more?” Andrew asked with a lick of desperation in his voice.

“And then I’ll get you off.” 

“Okay then. Try your best.”

Neil did his best and Andrew thrashed on the bed when he came close and was then denied. “Lucky number four my love,” Neil whispered. 

“Lucky number four,” Andrew muttered, hoping Neil was telling the truth. When he was finally allowed to reach climax, he came hard. Cum shot from his cock, spattering his sleep shirt and down Neil’s hand. Neil licked his fingers clean without breaking their eye contact, and Andrew was a complete goner while his orgasm ebbed out of his limbs.

“Go get a cock ring. You’re still on for that for a couple of hours?” Neil asked in a low voice full of domination.

“Yes,” Andrew promised. He got out of bed and went to their sock drawer. He found his favorite one. Not the orange one, no, that one was Neil’s. Andrew had written 03 on it with a permanent marker for possessive reasons. He chose the grey, ribbed one. Neil lovingly put it on him, and Andrew couldn’t help his quiet hiss. Neil kissed the tip of his dick in reverence as soon as the ring was nestle at the base of Andrew’s softening dick. 

“Shower,” Neil then gently commanded.

In the shower, Andrew was unable to get hard again. Too soon and too restricted. Neil still cockwarmed him a good ten minutes before they almost made themselves slightly late. 

Andrew’s first lesson contained a mini mock exam. What a birthday present. Still, it would be a piece of cake. They separated on the main lawn to head to their for different buildings. 

Andrew’s phone buzzed the moment he entered building B. Hate to see you leave but love to watch you walk. 

It was so painfully cliché that Andrew snorted out loud and answered, You’re ridiculous, junkie.

Be nice, stud. 

Andrew answered curtly, Fine. 

And good luck with your exam. 

Luck is for those who have no brain, Andrew boldly replied. He was confident in his skills.

Again, be nice. Don’t make me punish you later. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. Good thing Neil wasn’t around to see it. Roger that. 

Is the cock ring fine?

Barely feel it. 

Neil shot a message instantly. Good love. Can’t promise it’ll stay that way. 

I am aware. Andrew turned his phone off; he’d scaled two flights of stairs and arrived at his classroom.

As expected, he did exceedingly well on the test. It had been a piece of cake, and he scoffed inwardly at the students exiting the room with despairing expressions on their faces, or whining to their friends. People were stupid. There were no other explanations.

When he turned his phone on again, a new message buzzed immediately. Then another. The first read sweetly, I hope it went well. I know it did. The second was much different in tone, Thinking about how wet your dick was this morning and how you tasted. You were so good for me, and your desperate sounds keep playing on a loop in my mind.

They had agreed that leading up to their scene later would play out as a pseudo-scene, with Neil softly domming Andrew over texts.

Just before entering his second class, he received yet another text, and another before he even opened the first one. I miss you and Remember to open yourself up before tonight. I don’t plan on doing it for you.

After Andrew third class of the day, and after lunch in the food hall where he sat alone with a boring book on legal ramifications, he idly made his way back to the dorm, which would be empty, for some down time. Yet another text came in. You’ve got an hour off before your next class. Lock the door to the bedroom. Get naked. I want you to put a gag on – don’t care which – ass in the air, and you have to work yourself up to four of your gorgeous fingers, stud. No coming until the last five minutes before your next class. I know how you feel about time limits. Take the cock ring off, and don’t put it back on after.

Andrew did as he was told. He chose their medium ball gag, fastened it in the back of his head, pushed his face into Neil’s pillow that smelled like him, raised his ass in the air, removed the cock ring, tossed it aside, and worked four fingers deep inside him. He checked the clock regularly, and punched an orgasm out of himself when the clock read exactly one fifty pm with his other hand around his cock. God it felt good. But then he had to hurry to get dressed and re-find his bearings, and rush to class.

I can’t wait for tonight, was Neil’s penultimate message during Andrew’s last lesson.

And then, Are you ready love? When Andrew was two minutes from their dorm.

Yes, he answered, because Neil needed to know.

Neil was already sitting on the couch when Andrew came back. The collar was next to him, open and waiting. Andrew swallowed and locked the door behind him. They talked when Andrew went over to Neil and kneeled in submission.

The scene wasn’t very physical, mostly talk, but would feature another of Andrew’s soft limits. Two of them in fact.

“Get naked, love. Take my pants off. Put the collar on. Get me hard. Then sit on my dick, back to my chest. Do not move, not an inch. You will not like it if you do. And no talking expect to safeword or if I ask you a question. As usual, green for go, yellow for pause and reassessing, and red for immediate stop. What’s your other stop-safeword.”

“No for stop.”

“Good job.”

Andrew put the collar on, sinking into the feeling of it circling his neck and throat, and pulled Neil’s pants down. He set to work getting his junkie hard, which wasn’t difficult; someone was clearly as excited as he was.

When he sat down on Neil’s cock and felt it spear him open, there was only the slightest burn. He had used enough lube, but sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

“Alright,” Neil said, stroking his neck above the collar. “You know this. The things you’re about to say here, I am not expecting them to be things you want to try in reality.” 

Andrew knew this. They’d done it a few times by now, pushing possible limits through words first rather than action.  “Don’t let fear hold you back. What you say stays as such, unless you tell me otherwise at a later time.” 

“I know,” Andrew agreed. 

“You may not touch yourself, or me. You can’t move yourself on my dick. You’re at my mercy. The only thing you’re in control of are your words. So do your worst.” Neil tweaked a nipple. “Get to it. I’m getting bored. Paint me a pretty picture.”

Andrew was full and warm and fuzzy and at ease. He was also hard and the fact that he didn’t have permission to touch himself, that the privilege fell to Neil and Neil alone, was maddening.  

“You’re undressing me, talking to me, commenting on how hard I already am. I am made to kneel and you slap me. Twice, then the other cheek to even the sting out. Then you shove me onto out bed, flip me over, and press my face down. You order me to present myself. And I do. I’m needy. I’m always needy, and I tell you because you love hearing it.” Andrew needed a moment to gather more thought, though he had rehearsed them in his mind.” You fuck me. You don’t open me up a lot. Just a finger. Because you know I relish the feel.

“You take your time at first. You make me beg. And I do. I beg, I plead, and you just laugh at me. You pull my hair to lift my face and choke me without mercy. Before too long, you’re close. I know you. I know your body. You’re almost there, and you’re losing precision. You let go of my throat and a gasp for air. You spank my ass so hard I clench every muscle in it. And it’s enough to have you coming deep inside me.”

“I’d fill you up, handsome.” Neil agreed. “You like being full.”

A pitiful whimper left Andrew’s throat when Neil seized his wrists his scared hands, pinning Andrew’s arms to the side of his body. 

“Keep going, Andrew. You’re doing so well. I’m proud of you. But there is more, isn’t there? I can feel you holding back. There is no need. Tell me.”

A second whimper, this time almost a deep, desperate, plaintive whine, burst forth. Andrew clenched his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the racquet-calloused flesh of his palms. He could do this? Right? Neil was telling him he could. Neil was proud of him. He would not disappoint him. 

He took a deep shuddery breath, and Neil ghosted the shell of his ear with the tip of his wicked tongue. 

Andrew finished his tale. “You’ve come. And you stay where you are. You have me pinned to the mattress again with my ass in the air. You start touching me, but you know me too. As well as I know you. When I’m close, you take your hand off my dick. You slap me again and the moment your hand hits me, you release a stream of piss deep inside me.” 

“Yes,” Neil whispered against the skin being Andrew’s ear. 

“It keeps going. I’m full. Almost too full. It’s weird. It’s warm. I’m crying.” As he said this, his body gave in, and tears rose to his eyes. He was so hard, aching, and Neil’s breath on his skin was delirious and not enough. 

“You pull out and plug me up. I hate it. And I love it. You flip me and order me to jerk off while you watch.”

At that moment, Neil released one of Andrew’s wrists and took hold of Andrew’s cock instead. Andrew hissed at the so desired skin on skin contact. 

“Guide me,” Neil whispered sweetly. “Show me how you would do it, but let it be my hand. And I’ll tell you a story.”

There was no helping the full body tremor that shook through Andrew, and Neil laughed at the state of him, the sound filled with a bit of humiliating amusement. 

“You like this so much, stud. Filled but unable to do anything about it. You’d sit here the whole day long and night if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

Andrew choked on his own spit. 

“Answer me, Andrew,” Neil spat at him. His hand let go of Andrew’s cock after a harsh squeeze to the base. 

“I would.” 

“Why?”

“Because I love being full and dominated.” 

“Good boy. Where was I? Right. We’re sitting here but not quite like this. Your wrists are bound to your ankles, forcing you at a bent angle. You’re wearing the ring gag, because I have plans for your mouth in that position. You’re bendy and flexible enough. And you’d do exactly as I say. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure as hell fucking you, and you’re moving with the power of my thrusts. When your pathetic small sounds reach their usual fever-pitch, I don’t give you a choice. I change the position of my foot and my big toe goes into your mouth. Oh lord you love it. I fit another toe. And another and tell you to lick them. Your tongue is rough. You haven’t been able to close your mouth for a while. It hurts, how the hinges of your jaw are stretched.

“I cut the rope eventually and pull my toes out, and I pull on your hair so your back is against my back. I spread my legs to spread yours and you’re open. So open. So on display. You’ve forgotten to lock the door.” It was a lie. Andrew had certainly not forgotten to do that, but the words were powerful enough to persuade him he had forgotten. “What if Kevin comes in and sees you like this? Think you’ll be able to convince him that being straight isn’t necessarily that only option, what with you on display like this, splayed open. You’re needy and filthy, and he’ll see you. I don’t share, you know this, but he could watch, and I’d give him permission to come on your face. I’d scoop it up and feed it to you. Or what if Nicky came in? How scandalous. Your own cousin. Or Aaron. Your twin.”

The word flew out of Andrew’s mouth though he didn’t have permission to talk without explicit permission or to answer a question. “Yellow.”

Neil stopped everything, even breathing it would seem. His chest wasn’t rising and falling like Andrew had felt it just a moment ago. “Too far?” he asked with concern.

“Yes. Don’t bring my family into this.”

“But Kevin is okay?”

“Just talk?”

“Just talk,” Neil assured him.

“Then yes, Kevin is green.”

“Do you want to continue?”

“Yes. You’re good.”

Neil took a deep breath, no doubt taking his time to get back in his dom headspace. When he finally was, his voice was dark again, and clear. “I’m giving one last thrust deep inside your ass. When I still myself, I come, before I release the piss I’ve been holding in just for you. You’ve been wanting it so badly and I’m finally giving it to you.” 

The words, oh god those words, reached down between Andrew’s legs faster than his mind could cope with, as well as faster than Neil hand getting back on his dick. He was completely surprised when he felt the telltale sign of his balls getting heavier and pulling up, of the chill of tension in his guts he knew would snap, of the extremities on his body burning, and then he closed his eyes and exploded with the words of absolute filth streaming through every nook and crevice of his mind like wildfire. 

“Oh,” Neil said when his hands wrapped around Andrew’s cock. “Pathetic,” he whispered softly into Andrew’s ear, the sweet tone the complete opposite of the connotation of the word. 

Andrew was a goner then. Zapped of all his energy, he fell back against Neil’s chest and heard himself give out the smallest of whimpers. 

Neil was quick in wrapping his arms around Andrew’s still shivering body and rocking him while Andrew floated into subspace. He caressed every part of his body he knew wouldn’t trigger him, and whispered praise Andrew barely heard. Then, after minutes, or hours, he carried Andrew into the shower to clean him up.

Andrew only came back when he smelled the scent of food wafting in the air.

They ate in silence, Neil cutting Andrew’s food for him.

“Thank you for telling me all that,” Neil eventually said when he brought their dessert out. It was a birthday cake void of candles or any writing like Happy birthday or some other shit. 

“Is there any of it you’d like to try?”

“All of it,” Andrew admitted when Neil placed a generous slice on his plate.

“It’s yes for me, my love.” 

“You’re not freaked out?”

Neil shook his head and served himself a smaller slice. “Of course not. Especially when you were using your words and you made it sound so good. Can I tell it a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I knew I wanted it when you came untouched.”

Andrew had known then too. 

⁎

That weekend, Nicky invited Andrew and Neil, Aaron and Katelyn out for a celebratory birthday dinner.

Andrew felt his heart beating vigorously when he opened the door to the restaurant for Neil, but instead of letting the striker through, he held his other hand out to stop him, pressing gently down on his chest. Neil cocked his head to the side and watched him with open curiosity.

With a deep breath, Andrew said, “I’ve booked us a hotel room for the night. It’s a five-minute walk from here. One if we take the car.” It was so far from everything he had to say, but it was the first part he could get himself to say before needing a second deep breath. Then, “It’s got a bathtub.” This was a very shortened version of the second part of his speech, but for all his bravado in life, he couldn’t say all that was on his mind.

Neil’s eyes widened, and Andrew knew, he knew Neil understood. His junkie’s lips formed the delicate O before he muttered the accompanying, “Oh.”

Andrew dropped his hand and finally let Neil take the steps leading into the restaurant. The greeter behind their little desk was a whole foyer away, which gave Andrew enough time to say, “You can say no.”

“Yes.”

“It’s that yes you can say no, or yes you’re saying yes?”

Neil stopped walking and turned so he was watching Andrew. “I’m saying yes. And if we end up not doing anything at all, it’s still a yes from me. We can sleep. We can order room service at three and eat everything that’s unhealthy that you love. We can fuck, on the bed, on the couch, if there is a couch, on the floor, on the table, if there is a table. I can dom you or you can dom me. I can come so deep inside you your eyes will roll back in your head and then we can try internal. We can do all of the above. Or we can do none of it.”

There was no accounting for the exhale of relief escaping Andrew’s mouth.

“Love, you can always talk to me.”

“I know,” Andrew agreed. He added with a powerful roll of his eye, “I wish we didn’t have to sit through this dinner. I should get my wish for my birthday. And my wish is to be with you.”

Neil picked up walking and Andrew followed him. “It’s Aaron’s birthday too. His wish is to spend it with his family. I think both wishes weigh equally much.”

Andrew groaned. “But then, why does he win?”

“Is he? Winning? You’re taking me to a hotel room after. I’m not so sure he is.”

“Fair,” Andrew grumbled.

When they finally made it to the greeter, Neil gave them Nicky’s last name, and they were seen to a table near the back, near the dessert buffet, and Andrew changed his mind slightly. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he was dreading. After all, Nicky had gone through the trouble of finding the perfect place, and he had cleared his schedule – though that just included having Erik tag along – and Aaron and Andrew were making progress with Bee. The animosity between them was low. And Andrew was learning to tolerate Katelyn’s presence. His present for his brother’s 22^nd birthday was to sit through the dinner and treat his cheerleader as a human being.

He could do this, he could totally do this.

He kept his eyes on the tower of chocolate éclairs when Neil greeted everyone at the table; they were the last to arrive. Nicky and Erik had probably arrived at the restaurant a good quarter of an hour early, Nicky being too excited, and probably nervous too, and needing a moment to center himself alone with Erik. Aaron and Katelyn had probably arrived right on time. It was eerie how often they managed that, as if witchcraft was at play. Andrew blamed Katelyn – his brother didn’t use to be punctual when they were younger.

When Andrew peeled his eyes from the dessert buffet, a mental list in his head with everything he was getting later at the ready, Neil was hugging Nicky. Nicky was whispering something into his ear and Andrew heard Neil respond with a gentle, “Of course.”

Erik stood from his seat and hugged Neil, while Nicky tentatively closed the distance between himself and Andrew. It looked like he was itching to move in for a hug too, and to be fair, Andrew had given in a couple of times lately, and a small part of him wanted a repeat. Hugging wasn’t so bad when it was with someone who loved you.

And yes, he had no doubt Nicky loved him. He didn’t understand why. He had been a shit to his cousin for years, treated him like nothing more than a nuisance, a mother-hen when the last thing Andrew had wanted was a mother, when every mother before had not wanted him. But Nicky had stuck around, and although at first Andrew had made himself believe it was out of a sense of duty, of family ties, of blood, slowly, Nicky had proved it was because he cared for the twins. He wanted to be there for them.

So now, Andrew was there for Nicky. And he always would be.

He secretly dreaded the day graduation would tear them apart.

Andrew took one step and there was suddenly no space between himself and Nicky. He pulled his cousin into an embrace and felt Nicky’s body relax and give in. Neil had once told him he gave excellent hugs – maybe it hadn’t been a biased opinion after all. “Nicholas,” Andrew said, needing still an ounce of distance in moments of vulnerability.

“Andrew,” Nicky returned.

It was Nicky who pulled away first, and his eyes looked a little misty. “Gald you’re here. I’ve ordered you an old fashioned. Rye whisky. Not bourbon. Two peels of orange. The drinks should be here any time now.”

“Thanks.” It was the perfect order. Andrew was touched.

He nodded at Katelyn who tried to smile, but it was a weak thing with a touch of residual fear though Andrew hadn’t touched her since that one time in the library. He would have to do better than usual tonight. He nodded at Aaron too who returned the nod. Andrew shook hands with Erik who beamed genuinely at him too. They had worked their issues out years ago.

Andrew placed his hand in the little of Neil’s back, needing to feel how real and solid he was, and they sat on the two empty chairs, side by side.

“Neil, we’ve ordered you a sidecar. I hope that’s okay.”

“Absolutely.”

It was the prefect order too. Andrew was touched all over again.

Dinner went really well, against all odds. Andrew was as charming as he could, and even asked Katelyn questions about her and Aaron’s degree. Aaron was pleased, Andrew could see it in the minute micro-expressions on his face.

He sipped his drink slowly, enjoying the burn and the bitter taste, wanting it to last, knowing it would be all he would drink tonight. If he and Neil were going to play, they would have to be sober. Explaining to the rest of the table that neither would drink the bottle of wine gave them away. But the secret was more or less out anyway. No one spoke about it, out of respect Andrew assumed.

Nicky had one evening been looking for a pair of socks – a goddamn pair of socks he claimed were holy because they had been one of the first Christmas presents Erik had gifted him – and he had stumbled upon their play box. The mistake was entirely on Nicky, but the box’s lid had not been put in place, a foolish oversight, and that was on Neil and Andrew.

In that particular box had been their softer play items, the smaller ones. Their gags (ball, bit, and ring,) their but plugs (small, medium, big, remote controlled, ridged, nubbed,) cockrings (silicone, steel, leather, vibrating, spiked,) and more importantly, their collar.

As fate would have it, Andrew had walked into the bedroom at exactly that moment, and he had frozen in horror. Neil had entered a couple of seconds later and blessedly jumped into action-mode, saying things like, Nicky, what are you doing? and Nicky what you’re seeing, it’s, well, and I would never hurt your cousin.

Nicky had turned, flushed pink and embarrassed, and answered, I know, and that had been it. 

How Aaron had guessed was a mystery. Andrew was for once certain Nicky had kept his mouth shut. Their cousin didn’t quite understand the notion of privacy, but he knew the importance of the word around this. Had Aaron perhaps guessed the outline of the collar under Neil’s turtleneck a few months back when they had gone to Eden’s Twilight for a bit of edging play with a vibrating butt plug lodged against Neil’s prostate and the remote in Andrew’s pocket?

After their plates were removed by their waiter, Nicky announced that he would move to Germany after graduation, and it was a slap in the face. Andrew escaped to the dessert buffet, grabbed a new plate, and filled it with everything he wanted, just so he could escape the table and his cousin’s news.

Neil was next to him, and said nothing, was just there.

The evening came to an end, everyone said goodnight and went their separate ways.

Andrew and Neil walked to the hotel for some fresh air.

The receptionist accepted Andrew’s credit card, ran it, charged him for the luxury room, and gave them a swipe key each. Their room was on the seventh floor, and inside, they inspected the three rooms it offered. The bathroom was indeed equipped with a large bathtub.

“Did you bring to collar?” Neil asked casually, chucking his chinos off in the bedroom.

“No,” Andrew said, much less casually. “I –” But not more words followed. Not until he said, “Neil.”

Neil came over in his underwear and dress shirt. “Yes?” He cupped Andrew’s cheek.

“Could we?” Andrew tried again. Why was it so difficult? Why was it easier to speak about a scene, but baring his soul like this was a struggle?

“Yes. Andrew.”

Just Andrew. So, Neil knew. Guessed rightly.

Just Andrew.

Andrew, the man. The flawed man who didn’t have to do shit for anyone but who chose to wake up with Neil every day and stay by his side, because love spoke deeper and kinder than his past demons. Andrew, the broken man who felt whole with Neil, whose chest didn’t feel hollow and empty with Neil, regardless of the dynamic in the bedroom. Andrew, every bit Neil’s equal and partner.

“Can we do this just us?”

Neil’s face split into a radiant smile. “Of course. Of course.” He threw himself at Andrew without force and with enough time for Andrew to take a step back if need be, and he kissed him deeply, letting his tongue only slip inside Andrew’s mouth when Andrew parted his lips.

“How do we do this?” Neil asked when they parted. Andrew could feel Neil’s hard cock pressed against his thigh. It was a heady thing to feel it so close. To know it was his as much as it was Neil’s, and that so soon it would do things to him undone before.

The contrast between Neil from just a few days earlier, all confident and dirty talk and delicious domination, and the bashful Neil standing pressed against Andrew now, in this hotel room, with a made bed in his back that simply begged to be unmade, was stark, and endearing. It emboldened Andrew.

“Like we always do it. You and me. Let’s start on the bed, and see where it takes us.”

“How?” Neil asked, his blue eyes drilling holes into Andrew’s.

“I want you to fuck me. And then not pull out.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop me if you change your mind?”

Andrew nodded and spoke in a whisper against Neil’s cheek. “You know I will.”

“Can I undress you?”

Andrew nodded again and felt the smooth way Neil’s hands made quick work of his slacks and t-shirt. How gentle they were when they reached the waistband of his underwear, how they tugged on the elastic, pulled it up and over Andrew’s cock, and down his legs. Neil lowered himself with the underwear, carefully lifting first one of Andrew’s feet, then the other.

He stayed down there, slowly kissing his way up Andrew’s right leg, one of his hands running up the other leg symmetrically. Eventually, he was back on his feet, and Andrew had had enough of teasing. He kissed his junkie, letting every permission pass from his mouth into Neil’s, then pushed him firmly backwards.

Neil let himself be guided by Andrew, bent his knees, and dropped down on the bed. He was gorgeous like this. Bare legs and feet, cock straining against his boxers, his dress shirt riding up his stomach to reveal the dark, ginger hairs trailing down from his navel to his dick. He made a wild gesture with his arms to beg Andrew to join him on the mattress.

And Andrew went.

It went as it always went when they kept it sweet and slow. Neil removed the last of his clothes, opened Andrew up, then pressed inside and fucked him leisurely. When Andrew was close, he stopped Neil with both hands pressed against his junkie’s chest. “Let’s get the bathtub running. I’m ready.”

“Alright.”

As soon as the tub was filled with hot water, Neil went in first. The tap was located on the side, so he was able to lean against the narrow end. He spread his legs and motioned for Andrew to sit in his lap. Soon, Neil was inside Andrew again, and they resumed where they had left off.

Andrew came between them, the tip of his cock peeking out of the water and his cum shooting up and painting Neil’s chest in dots and dashes of white. A large dollop landed just shy of the left corner of Neil’s lips, and Andrew didn’t hesitate; he leaned closer and licked the drop into his mouth and then kissed it into Neil’s.

The muscles in his ass were tight and he felt how his insides were hugging and squeezing Neil’s cock. The moment they kissed and shared Andrew’s cum, Neil reached his own orgasm with a breathless cry, and he dug his fingers into Andrew’s biceps as he pushed up and deep into him one last time.

The water in the bathtub sloshed around them with the frantic movements of Neil’s fucking, but then it calmed alongside Andrew and Neil’s calming bodies.

When the water was nearly still, and Andrew’s breathing was almost regular again, there was enough peace in the room, enough peace between him and Neil, that he realized his heart was still beating like it was running to win a race.

He knew why.

It was coming.

And he was nearly delirious with anticipation.

Would it feel as good as his mind had countlessly imagined it would since their dirty talk scene?

But nothing happened.

Neil’s eyes were closed.

His lips were set in a thin line.

His body was tense and rigid and everything about him was hesitant.

On instinct, Andrew gently seized Neil’s face in his hands. “Do you still want to?”

Neil’s answer was a sure but shaky, “Yes.” His whole body started trembling the moment the word left him.

“I want you to do it, Neil. It’s yes from me too,” Andrew promised. “I want every part of you.” He was careful not to move a single muscle below the waist. It was ultimately Neil’s decision, and Neil was holding back.

“Can you?” Andrew rephrased.

“Yes.” Neil’s trembling doubled, ripples reappearing in the water. “I need help.”

The plea came from deep within and Andrew didn’t stop to think about what he did next. He slid his right hand under the surface of the water and pressed down on Neil’s bladder.

“Andrew?” Neil asked.

“Yes.”

There was some resistance, not a lot of give, so Andrew pressed down harder.

“Andrew?”

“Yes.”

Neil’s shaking mounted into a frenzied crescendo. Just before he let go, he asked one last time, “Andrew?”

“I want it, Neil. You can let go.” Not an order, but permission.

The shaking stopped.

And then Andrew gasped when Neil released inside him. It was warm and entirely different from the feeling of being filled with cum. It was definitely watery, more powerful, lasted longer, and nothing rivalled the expression of surrendering relief on Neil’s face the moment he finally started pissing.

When Neil opened his eyes again, they were blown wide and dark, and Andrew couldn’t help the unconscious rocking of his body.

He was full.

Fuller than ever before.

In a whole new way.

And warm.

Inside and out.

They were both sweating though neither were moving much. Neil kept Andrew plugged with his slowly deflating cock after the stream stopped, and he stayed in place.

Andrew realized he was still gasping, small breathy sounds escaping him, and though he knew he wouldn’t be able to get hard for at least another hour, he wished Neil could fuck another orgasm out of him while filled to the brim.

They stayed perfectly still instead, their foreheads eventually pressing together, their noses less than an inch apart.

The first real sound to break the silence was a laugh. “What do we do now?” Neil chuckled.

“You pull out, and we take a massive shower?” Andrew suggested with a smile.

Neil thought about it. “I think,” he said softly. “I think.” He rummaged around the bottom of the bathtub with a hand. In moving so, Andrew knew some of Neil’s piss was leaking out his ass, but he had zero shits to give. He was feeling too good to deal with the logistics of urine mixing with bathwater.

There was suddenly a gurgling noise and Neil smiled triumphantly. Slowly, the water level dipped and dipped, and Andrew felt his body grow heavier, and gravity gradually became a thing again.

“Can I kiss you?” Neil asked.

“You have to.”

Neil laughed brightly, and they kissed until the drain had drunk every last drop of water.

Neil circled his arms around Andrew’s waist and whispered, “Move with me.”

Andrew did, until he was lying flat on his back with Neil’s cock still plugging him full and Neil’s body half pressed against him.

“Are you ready?” Neil asked, leaning in to ask the question into Andrew’s ear.

“Yes,” Andrew breathed. But was he really? Was he ready to say goodbye to the warmth inside him?

Neil must have sensed his hesitation, because he waited; he kept eye contact and undulated his lips from time to time.

“Okay,” Andrew permitted eventually, when he was starting to get a little cold in the empty bathtub.

Neil nodded, frowned in concentration, and slowly pulled out of Andrew’s ass, all while Andrew relaxed his muscles. Neil’s soft cock came free and with it a stream of urine.

Too curious, Andrew looked down between his legs. His own cock was soft as well, and Neil moved it out of the way, laying it in the space between Andrew’s thigh and hip, allowing Andrew a better view. Andrew leaned up on his elbows to see Neil’s release flow out of him and trickle down the opening of the bathtub drain.

Neil was quick in grabbing the shower hose and turning the water on. He cleaned Andrew thoroughly, and Andrew stayed down, letting his junkie take care of him.

It hadn’t been a scene, but he felt as light and floaty and good as though it had been.

When the water was cut off, Andrew’s eyes were closed. “Not yet, love,” Neil said; it sounded like a whisper from a far-away land. “Not here. Let me get you into warm clothes and into bed.”

The only part of Andrew that wasn’t so heavy he couldn’t move it, was his mouth, but even then, his lips felt weird and sluggish when he said, “Okay. I want chocolate.”

“I’ll get you chocolate.”

“And I want you.”

“You have me, Andrew, always.”

Chapter Text

Andrew was in the goal, leaning against his ridiculously tall stick, watching the strikers barrel up the court towards his keeper-sub who seemed to cower at their approach. Jack passed the ball to Neil on a rebound against the plexiglass ceiling, and Neil caught it flawlessly in the net of his racquet. With a bit of completely unimpressive footwork, Neil twirled around Aaron gracefully and then put all the force in his lithe frame into his bicep and wrist. Andrew watched the ball leave the net, and a second later, the goal lit up red.

Wymack shouted something from the sideline, Aaron’s face was murderous as he turned to Nicky, as though it was their cousin’s fault Neil was a prodigy, and Abby moved inside the plexiglass court with her first aid kit to help Sheena who had taken a nasty fall.

Neil was above it all. He sauntered over to the away bench and gulped down at last half of his bottle of water. Andrew tracked each bob of the striker’s Adam’s apple, knowing full well Neil wasn’t that thirsty. He’d been doing this all day, and Andrew had not seen him take a bathroom break once.

Oh, shit, the thought alone had Andrew’s left hand come up to his right wrist where underneath his armband was a sturdy band of leather. During practice, or even games, if one of them was technically still in submission mode, and the other in domination mode, instead of wearing their collar, they had found a bracelet that did the trick.

It would be too dangerous to wear their collar. Even a lighter one, a smaller one, a lace one. Even just a simple necklace would be reckless.

Andrew had been the one to find the bracelet. It resembled a collar, completed with a small D-ring in the front for clasping a chain to it. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable fit under the glove, but it was good enough and slim.

And presently, Andrew was wearing it proudly. Secretly, to everyone but Neil.

Neil turned to look at Andrew, the half-empty bottle still in his hand, beads of sweat running down his hairline. He dropped the bottle and winked. Yeah¸ it was official – Andrew was fucked. Then Neil saluted him with their two-fingered gesture that predated their thing.

That was the signal. Andrew left the goalkeeper box and followed Neil into the locker room.

Neil did not acknowledge Andrew’s presence until they were safely locked away in one of the small toilet stalls near the back of the room. By then, the striker had removed his gloves and helmet, and so had Andrew.

“You know the drill, handsome.”

Andrew did. This was their third time doing precisely this. So, he took his gear off, then his uniform, dropping his number jersey last, and stood naked in front of a fully clothed Neil. “It’s yes,” he said preemptively. He’d seen the question swirling in his junkie’s eyes.

“And you’re sure? I can do this by myself.”

“I know. You have. Successfully since you were a toddler I should hope.”

Neil shook his head and gripped Andrew’s hair in the back of his head. “You will show me respect, Andrew. If you want me, you’ll do as I tell you, and you won’t mouth back.”

So many words assailed Andrew’s mind, so many comebacks and insults, but he was a good sub, and he kept his mouth shut.

Neil tugged one last time. “Good job.” He released Andrew’s hair and kissed him for his good behavior. “I’m going to sit down now, and your first order of business is to make sure I am as hard as possible.”

He could do that, he could absolutely do that. The floor was clean, his skin was ablaze, and his mind was buzzing. Kneeling for his junkie was second nature now, and he needed to soak it all up before separation would insert itself between them. Graduation was only six months away.

Andrew pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

Neil nodded, took his shorts down just enough to free his semi-flaccid dick, and he sat on the open lid of the toilet. Andrew used his hands to get Neil hard, not his mouth – they had agreed to this. Andrew’s limit was getting his face too close to the toilet and Neil had understood without any stipulations.

It took no time, and Neil was struggling with feeling a little too much all at once; Andrew couldn’t help the feeling of righteousness coursing through him. The overstimulation served his junkie right for drinking so much and pushing his own comfort so he could push Andrew’s.

“Alright, alright,” Neil panted. Small, clipped breaths fell from his mouth, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Get on it.” He held his cock out for easier mounting. Andrew pulled their medium plug out of his ass, touched his hole to make sure there was still enough lube, and straddled Neil. He lowered himself onto Neil’s dick and sighed.

“Safewords?”

Andrew gave them.

“Your color right now?”

“Green.”

They were chest to chest, Andrew’s naked, and Neil’s padded to the nine. The power imbalance was clear as day. But Andrew could at any time say the word and walk away, and Neil would take care of his business by himself and not blame him.

He was safe.

And on instinct, he started rocking his hips back and forth, placing both hands in Neil’s neck for balance.

“Don’t move,” Neil commanded, his voice a little less authoritative than usual. His hands clamping down on Andrew’s waist, however, were just as controlling as they always were when domming, and it was enough to still Andrew’s entire body obediently. “Give me a moment.”

Andrew didn’t move. He gave Neil a moment.

He gave him many.

Neil’s concentration had a lone drop of sweat run down the back of his neck and it caught against Andrew’s index finger. He closed his eyes, grunted under his breath, and finally was able to let go.

It would never cease to amaze Andrew how warm it felt to be claimed so fully.

It lasted, and lasted. And lasted. Until Neil bit his own lip and sighed. His eyes were glazed over but quickly gained focus again. He ran a finger from Andrew’s bottom lip, down the column of his throat, down the middle of his chest, down to his navel, and over his abdomen. “Look at you, stud.” He grabbed Andrew’s chin in his other hand and growled, “Open your eyes,” before directing Andrew to look down on himself. “There.”

Neil’s hand was fanning over Andrew’s pubes. The hand he had on Andrew’s waist was the only thing keeping Andrew upright.

“All of it used to be mine. It’s yours now.”

It’s yours now.

A quick, mental checklist flashed in front of Andrew’s mind’s eye of all the things that were Neil’s but just as much his as well, ranking from innocent to absolutely debauched. The comforter they shared at the dorm. It used to be Neil’s only, but when Robin had come to live with them and had taken over Andrew’s loft, Andrew had moved down into Neil’s bed and the duvet had become his as well. Neil’s underwear, and socks, and t-shirts mainly (his pants were way too big for Andrew to walk around in,) the mugs Neil liked to use in the morning for his coffee (yes, even the offendingly bright orange PSU one,) the key to Neil’s new car, the new car in itself, every part of his junkie’s body, his pleasure and his pain, his marvelous dick, his tight ass, his chest to use as a pillow at night...

Neil kissed Andrew’s neck and bit down just before whispering, “This is your moment to shine. Hold it in, just a few seconds. Scoot back. And for the love of god, don’t get my shorts wet.” This last was a jab at Andrew’s first time having to control the way Neil’s release came out of him when in this position. Good thing they had been at the house in Columbia with a fully functioning washing machine and a shower just a few feet away. Good thing they knew how to laugh when things didn’t go according to plan.

Andrew scowled at Neil, earning him a squeezed nipple. He pushed the hems of Neil's shorts up his thighs and reached behind him to part Neil’s knees further. When he was ready, he scooted a couple of inches back, let Neil’s cock slip out of him, and relaxed every muscle in his body. Neil’s urine cascaded out of him and hit the water in the toilet.

They both gasped at how much and how long it took for everything to be out again.

As soon as he was finished, the scene ended. They would stay a moment in the locker room and then go back onto the Court as equals again.

Andrew was eternally grateful when Neil hurried to remove his protective chest gear, the padding, and his jersey, so he could hold Andrew close and let the skin-to-skin recenter him.

Looking inwards for a moment to take stock of how he was doing, Andrew found that the state he was in wasn’t the happy, light subspace he had been in after the two previous scenes like this one. He was somewhere between the clouds and the floor.

It didn’t feel right.

And the floor was rushing up to meet him the less he floated.

“Andrew?” Neil asked, a hand on his chest over his beating heart. Andrew couldn’t bring himself to look up, his eyes stuck on Neil’s soft dick. “Andrew?” Neil repeated. “Love.”

Neil was a smart man. He waited about half a minute, perhaps hoping Andrew would answer him, before saying, “We won’t do this again.”

Andrew broke clean in half at the words, and cries begged to be let loose – he swallowed each one down with practiced ease.

“Love,” Neil echoed. “You like this, I know you do. I’ve seen it. But this –” Neil gestured at the stall, the toilet they were sitting on, the way they were positioned, “– is too degrading in practice.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Shit – that was the feeling Andrew was battling, wasn’t it? The one that came with being degraded, the one feeling he hated the name of: shame.

“I will not degrade you this way, ever again. I can’t.”  

Andrew wanted to speak, but he felt himself drop faster than ever before, disappearing into his painful non-verbal state.

“Andrew.” The urgency in Neil’s voice was a knife in the dark. “Andrew, I need you to stand. We need to get you out of here.”

Where was the fire? Why the stress, the rushing? Andrew finally tilted his chin up. His mouth opened; he felt it clearly, the way his lips parted; but his voice was buried too deep for him to find it.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Neil promised. Andrew trusted his junkie. But the tears in the blue, blue eyes told him many things were wrong. “I’ll always catch you.”

It was good enough.

Andrew dropped.

He fell, and fell, and fell, darkness growing around him. He distantly felt Neil stand and pick him up. He wished his mind was of sound presence to appreciate the show of strength. Instead, he listened to Neil tell him softly, “This isn’t meant for you. You stay right where you are. Okay?”

Andrew nodded, barely, though he didn’t understand.

Next moment, Neil snarled, half-feral, “Get out!”

Nothing happened.

Neil added, just as angrily and with as much threatening energy as he could, “If anyone’s in here, get out! And stay out!”

Still, nothing happened. They were alone. No one was there. So Neil, still carrying Andrew, got the toilet door open and walked them over to the showers where they went into one of the stalls there. He rinsed Andrew and lathered him in body wash.

Andrew flinched when Neil’s fingers touched his rim. “My love, I have to,” Neil said apologetically. “I have to make sure you’re clean.”

Andrew nodded his consent; he knew Neil was right. The man was smart. It was Neil.

Neil. Neil. Neil.

Slowly, Neil toweled Andrew dry, got him into clothes, then began undoing the clasp of the leather bracelet. Andrew’s first post-scene words came then and they were desperate and frightened. “Don’t take it away. Please.”

Neil froze at the word. “I’m not. I won’t. Andrew – love. I. Don’t, I.”

With closed eyes and a bowed head, Andrew spoke again. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Neil crouched down in front of the bench Andrew was sitting on. He settled on his knees and looked up. “Removing it is not going to remove me from your life. I’m yours, as long as you’ll have me.” He tapped the leather bracelet bound around Andrew’s wrist. It was wet and cold. “This isn’t me,” he announced, and Andrew choked on his own breath. “This,” Neil quickly explained, placing Andrew’s left hand on his cheek and right hand on his heart, “this is me. And I am real. I am going nowhere.”

Neil got dressed quickly and shouldered Andrew out of the locker room.

In the hallway, Abby caught up with them. Her voice was distorted, coming from across a chasm of a hundred lifetimes. “Neil? Andrew? Is everything okay.”

Andrew didn’t turn – he didn’t have the energy to do so – but Neil did. “Abby,” he begged. “We need to go. Don’t tell coach what you’re seeing.”

Abby must have nodded, or done something to soothe Neil, because Neil thanked her and guided Andrew out into the light. Fresh air was a blessing, as was the passenger seat of his car. The scent of leather and the rumble of the engine as soon as it cut on were familiar. The short ride back to the Tower lulled him under.

In their room, Neil lovingly placed Andrew in their bed, but he didn’t join him like Andrew had expected. Instead, he spoke into his phone. “Bee? It’s Neil.”

Bee? Was Bee calling Neil?

“I’m sorry for disturbing you. I think Andrew needs you. We – um – we – there was a scene. He’s dropping. I don’t think I’m enough for him right now.”

How could Neil ever think that? Andrew opened his mouth, then closed it again when Neil’s said into the speaker end of the phone with eyes rimmed with tears, “I think I did something wrong.”

A moment later, Neil’s phone was pressed against Andrew’s ear.

“Hi, Andrew. Hello. It’s me. Bee. Can you speak?”

“No,” Andrew admitted gruffly.

“Can you listen?”

“Yes.”

A deep breath came from Bee’s end of the line. “You’re dropping. We’ve talked about this. Can you breathe with me? Andrew? Breathe with me. In. Hold it, three, four. And out.” And on and on it went. Sometime during the third or fourth breathing exercise, Neil left. Instantly, the room became cold and void.

“Bee?”

“Yes, Andrew.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong.” It was pivotal she knew this. “I need to go to him.” The thought of Neil, alone, somewhere, got the gears in his brain going again.

“Will you come by tomorrow? Or do you need me to come to you?”

Andrew sighed. “I will be there.” He hung up and fought the duvet crushing him. He almost fell out of bed, then righted himself with some difficulty, and made his way into the dorm common room where he found Neil.

On the shitty Ikea coffee table were a shit ton of Andrew’s favorite snacks and sweets. Neil was sitting on the couch, arranging the pillows the way Andrew liked them best, and the TV was already on. Neil turned his head, and when his eyes met Andrew’s, he tried to smile. He succeeded when Andrew returned it.

“You did nothing wrong,” Andrew mumbled an hour later, his head in Neil’s lap and his eyelids heavy like stone boulders. “I love you.”

He thought he heard Neil return the words, but he couldn't be sure - sleep was upon him.

It took Andrew a couple of days before he was out of his drop.

⁎

Andrew sat Neil down on the couch in the lounge of the Foxhole Court late one late night after practice just the two of them. “I still want what we did at the hotel,” he said solemnly. He meant it. He remembered the warmth, the bathtub, Neil’s care and devotion. All they needed were better boundaries and rules around this one thing.

It was clearly not what Neil had expected, and his eyes stared at Andrew for a moment without any reaction. “Andrew,” he eventually said.

“I mean it.” Andrew kissed his junkie and repeated the words against his lips. “I mean it.”

Neil clung to him. “I never want to let go of you.”

“I will never ask you to.”

“Will we survive the distance?” Neil’s mouth curved down the moment he asked.

Andrew, smiling to himself, had it safely in his pocket, and when he fished for it, his fingers closed around the chain which had warmed to his body temperature. He pulled it out and handed it over.

It was a silver ring, on a silver chain.

“Wh-at?” Neil spluttered.

Andrew snorted. “I’m not proposing. It’s just a symbol of my commitment. You never have to wear it if you don’t want to. Stuff it in a drawer for all I care, I just –” He never got to finish his sentence. Neil kissed him again while fumbling to put the chain around his neck. Ridiculously pleased, Andrew slipped his index finger inside the ring to the first knuckle and tugged Neil even closer.

Oh. He liked the feeling of having something to pull on.

Chapter Text

Revaluation was definitely not one of Andrew’s favorite activities, but it was one they had gone through a couple of times before, so he knew what to expect and how to go about it.

Ish.

The first time happened late at night, in bed, in a whispered conversation while Kevin and Nicky were softly snoring across the room in their own beds. Kevin was passed-out drunk, and Nicky newly back from somewhere on campus after a phone call with Erik, and he always slept like a rock after those.

Andrew’s back was to the wall and Neil chest was to Andrew’s front. There was less than an inch between their mouths so they could speak in voices so low they could barely hear themselves. They were oh so green and new to everything, and Neil was especially a mess of reddening cheeks and stuttering words. But they did it, going mostly over their likes, what spiked their curiosity, and what they wanted to try. Full submission. Kneeling. Light restraints. Control. The giving over of control. Orgasm denial. A little bit of pain – just to try it. I don’t want to think – make me not think, Andrew, Neil said, and Andrew promised to do his best.

Back then, it was only Neil on his knees from time to time and Andrew towering over him with all the power.

The second time was at the house in Columbia with a mountain of Asian take-out containers on the coffee table and an ice-cream cake in the freezer Andrew was dying to get his mouth on. Andrew told Neil he wanted to try and feel what it was Neil felt when he submitted. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit, but they had already done a kind of pseudo-scene in which Andrew had sort of submitted. Quite by accident, truth be told. Andrew’s primary concern, unlike Neil who had placed his focus on his wants, were the things he didn’t want. And for that, he needed limits. Boundaries. Rules. Or I won’t be able to do this, he said in all honesty, and to his relief, Neil agreed in a heartbeat. He gave Neil a long list of hard no-gos.

Aaron, fool of a brother that he was, interrupted the talk when he came home with Katelyn in tow, saying that it was just as much his house as it was Andrew’s, and that Andrew had no right to be pissed at him. Neil tugged Andrew’s wrist and told Andrew they should go upstairs. They cleaned their mess in the living room and reconvened in the bedroom.

That evening resulted in an edging scene, and Andrew saw stars by the end of it. For the first time, he wore their blue ball gag to assure his utter silence; neither of them had any interest in Aaron hearing them. Andrew reached subspace and he never wanted to not get there again. And besides, the look of pride on his junkie’s face, the words of praise, and the absolute pampering afterwards, were all the things Andrew didn’t know he craved in his life.

The third time, they learned from their mistakes and went somewhere they knew for certain no one in their circle would ever go to. A restaurant downtown. A small, hidden gem of a place they both liked to frequent because the pasta was divine and the tiramisu to die for.

It was after Andrew’s rooftop submission and Neil’s first domdrop. They both agreed that they needed to reassess and possibly realign their vision when it came to their bedroom activities. Andrew assured Neil that his previous soft limit of foot fetish or boot worship, or whatever the fuck it was called, was permanently now an enthusiastic yes. Neil asked into it without being pushy or invasive, and Andrew answered as best he could. He told Neil over dessert that he was willing to try and push other soft limits, but that his hard limits were to remain as they were.

And now, now it was time for a fourth talk; Andrew wasn’t happy about it.

Bee had reminded him just the day before of the importance of complete, trusting, and open communication with Neil. You two have always been remarkable at it – he will listen to you and he won’t judge.

He sure as hell hoped she was right – but then again, when was she not? – because apart from the obvious topic on the agenda for the evening, Andrew also had something entirely different he needed to get off his chest.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Neil asked from the doorway. He was dressed casually, with baggy jeans and a long-sleeved shirt he seemed to like more than any of his other shirts.

“Yeah,” Andrew replied.

Neil came over to Andrew and kissed him softly.

Just before leaving, Andrew pulled their collar from their play box and pocketed it. Neither said a word about it.

They drove in the Maserati for an hour.

At the restaurant, Neil held the door open for Andrew, and the smell of fried food assaulted Andrew’s nose; he relaxed instantly and met Neil’s eyes. Oh how soft they were in the low lighting.

He tried to calm his racing heart when the waiter seated them at their table, and he tried to reduce his nerves to just whispers in his mind. Neil looked to be the same across from him, but at least Neil had the courage to dive into the matter at hand as soon as their food arrived.

“You dropped,” he said.

It still wasn’t pleasant thinking back on those few days, but with enough distance from the drop, Andrew was able to say, “Yes. I did.”

“I’m sor–”

Andrew shook his head to stop Neil before he even got started. He would hear no sorry from him when he had nothing to be sorry about. “No. It’s not on you. I should have been clearer about my limits. I didn’t think. I got swept up. Carried away.” That was the gist of it. But not the whole story.

Neil nodded. “Not at the Court?”

“Not at the Court,” Andrew approved.

“What else?”

Andrew looked down at his food and started pushing it around with his fork. Without looking up, he explained, “I don’t know why I like it when you say things, I just.” He speared his spring roll aggressively. “We can’t make it real. It’s – it’s too much.”

“I get it,” Neil agreed. He speared his own food but didn’t bring it to his mouth. Instead, he reached his hand across the table. Andrew laced their fingers. “I like talking to you. And we will keep it like that.”

Andrew squeezed his junkie’s hand in silent thanks.

These talks would never not feel awkward to him.

They felt forced, but also right.

Well into their meal, Neil let it be at that, and they talked about exy for a while, about classes and papers due, and about the food in front of them. The awkwardness settled somewhat, and Andrew could breathe again. So naturally, he opened the door for the conversation about them to resume. “Breathplay,” he said between two sips of his mocktail. They never drank alcohol while discussing wants, needs, limits, and rules. Intoxication was one of their biggest no-gos. It worked for some – they refused to even try it.

It wasn’t how he had planned to bring the kink up.

Too late.

“I don’t know, Andrew,” Neil admitted. He looked at the napkin Andrew had been slowly shredding to pieces. “Is it safe?”

“If done right, yes. If I am always able to safeword one way or the other, yes,” Andrew argued, twirling the straw around what was mostly just crushed ice melting into water at the bottom of his glass.

Neil’s expression wasn’t positive in any way, shape, or form, and Andrew tried, he really honestly did, to hide his disappointment.

There was a beat of silence, two beats. A third.

Then.

“You really want this.” It wasn’t a question.

Andrew nodded. “We mentioned choking me a few weeks back on the couch, and I haven’t been able to get it off my mind.” He’d tried it on himself, but it had not produced the desired effect. He had tried holding his breath at first, and sure enough, like most books and websites said, his orgasm had been stronger, had lasted longer, but he hadn’t felt any rush. He had then tried pressing his hand down on his throat, but apparently the human body and the human brain were designed to want to live, and he had been unable to keep his hand there for long, certainly not long enough for his other hand working his cock to finish its job.

“You’ve strangled me in the past,” Neil said lowly. “And you’ve strangled Kevin. You’ve strangled your cousin.”

All of it was the truth. “It wouldn’t be me doing the choking, Neil. It would be you.”

“Oh. Right.” Neil looked away, then looked back. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not if you don’t want it, no.”

“Oh,” Neil repeated, and a small light that gave Andrew hope sparked in his blue eyes. “Right.”

⁎

They decided to stay at a lavish hotel the way they usually did when it was late and they were away from campus. They had the money, so why wouldn’t they?

Andrew was the one to unlock the door with his key card, and he was the one to cage Neil in against the wall. They had talked more about choking during dessert, and Neil had suddenly admitted to being hard and unable to clear his mind. It had been their cue to ask for the check and get the hell out of the restaurant.

Without any preamble, Andrew fisted Neil’s shirt and steered them towards the bed in the corner, but he stopped just shy of reaching it, undressing them both and letting their clothes pool at their feet. “Are you sure you want to do this already?” he asked quietly, in the nude, with no layers between them. He bent down to quickly pull their collar from his jean pocket, and Neil eyed it hungrily.

“No time like the present, right?” Neil pushed his hard cock up against Andrew’s.

Andrew frowned. “That’s not good enough.” He touched Neil’s breastbone and then the silver ring on a chain around his neck. Not once had Andrew seen his junkie without it on. And not once had his heart not given an extra beat at the sight of it.

“I know,” Neil agreed seriously. He took the collar from Andrew’s loose grip, unclasped it, and handed it back. “I want to make you feel good. I want to be good.” Now, that was a good enough reason. Still, Andrew asked one last time, and Neil replied, “Yes. I swear.”

Andrew traced a finger along Neil’s jaw, pleased when his junkie leaned into the touch. “Then kneel for me so I can put this on you.”

Neil dropped to his knees unbelievably fast, baring his throat in submission. He removed the chain and gave it to Andrew. “Keep it somewhere safe for me,” he asked sincerely. And how could Andrew not do just that? He bent down a second time, fetched his wallet from his other jean pocket, and tucked the ring and chain neatly into one of the small compartments. Then he took his time getting the collar on his sub, wanting to feel every shiver and goosebump, every breath taken and released.

“Rise,” he then ordered, much to Neil’s obvious confusion. Andrew guessed Neil had expected to have Andrew’s cock shoved down his throat, but honestly, that wasn’t Andrew’s need or want. His focus lay entirely elsewhere at that moment. Neil got to his feet. “I need your safewords.”

Neil gave them, and Andrew accepted them.

It was with some apprehension that Andrew then started the scene. “Neil,” he said in his dom voice. His nerves were running wild, but he squashed them down. “Choke me.” He knew the command would override Neil’s earlier reluctance, and only safewording would indicate a complete no.

Neil didn’t safeword.

He stepped closer and reached his hands up obediently.

Unfortunately, he didn’t do much more.

“Do as I tell you. Choke me,” Andrew repeated.

With a visible shiver, Neil’s fingers circled around the entirety of Andrew’s throat. The same fingers Neil held his racquet with and scored against enemy teams with; the same fingers that held his ballpoint pen when doing his homework; the same fingers that jerked Andrew’s cock or his own; the same fingers Andrew had had in his mouth and in his ass.

Now they were around his throat, joining in his neck.

“Harder,” Andrew ordered with a slight bark.

Neil did as he was told and strangled Andrew with all his might.

Andrew stumbled and his knees buckled. Neil’s hands immediately released some of their unforgiving hold. “Did I tell you you could stop?” Andrew snarled through a semi-constricted air pipe.

“No,” Neil said submissively.

“I will tap out when it gets too much.”

Neil nodded but still asked, “Promise me not to wait too long?”

“Yes. Now do as I tell you. Choke me.”

And finally, he felt it. Everything swam out of focus and the rest of his body sagged. He let it go on for five seconds, counting them in his head, before tapping Neil’s wrist. Instantly, Neil let go and Andrew’s own hand flew to where Neil’s had just been. “Any redness?” he asked. Neil shook his head. Andrew smiled. “Thank you.” He tugged on Neil’s collar gently and kissed him on the mouth. “Thank you.” When Andrew pulled away, he added, “I’m proud of you. You did so good for me. How was it for you?”

Neil sank to his knees though Andrew hadn’t asked him to do so. Andrew joined him on the floor.

“It wasn’t as bad as I had feared,” Neil confessed a little shyly.

“Look at me. I need to see your eyes.”

Neil looked up and his eyes were dark. When Andrew looked down at Neil’s lap he saw to his pleasure that Neil’s dick was hard and dripping. “You did like it,” he agreed, dipping a fingertip into the wet mess running down from the slit at the tip of Neil’s cockhead. “Taste how much you liked it,” he instructed, bringing his wet finger to Neil’s mouth.

With eagerly parting lips, Neil tasted himself. His eyes fluttered closed and a moan vibrated around Andrew’s finger.

Still on their knees, Andrew said, “Now, you’re going to push me down on the bed and you’re going to fuck me hard and dirty.”

Neil’s confusion tripled. “What?”

Andrew shook his head and cocked it slightly to one side. “Did I stutter? Did I not speak clearly enough?”

“No, you did, but.”

“No buts, Neil. You’ll do exactly as I tell you and how I tell you. It wasn’t easy sitting in the restaurant and talking, so now you’re going to fuck me. Got it?”

Stunned, Neil muttered, “Yes.”

Five minutes later, everything was amazing. Neil’s mouth as he engulfed Andrew’s cock whole was amazing; Neil’s care when opening Andrew up was amazing; the first push of Neil’s dick up Andrew’s ass was amazing.

And on his back, Andrew looked at Neil and marveled at this man. At this man, who up until an hour ago had been wearing his ring around his neck.

When Neil got a little too comfortable being on top, a little too assertive, Andrew mocked, “You can do better than that,” with a discontented growl.

Neil grinned. “Oh yeah, you think so?” And that, well that was too cocky.

Andrew showed a bit of teeth at his junkie’s attitude and reminded him who was in charge by pulling sharply on the collar and even sharper on his hair in the back of his head in order to still his upper body in place. “I know you can. Make me proud, or I’m leaving you hard and wanting. I’ll take care of myself in front of you with your hands and feet bound. You won’t be getting off tonight.” 

He smiled when Neil heeded the threat and started ramming into him with single minded purpose. “Give me your hand,” he said, leaving very little room for Neil to decline, but enough still so Neil knew he could.

Neil gave his hand. 

Andrew was close, his own fist pumping up and down his slick cock. He took Neil’s hand in his and placed it on his throat. “Do you feel safe enough to try it like this?” The softness of his voice took him by surprise, but the flickering warmth in Neil’s eyes told him it was more than fine.

Then a dark shadow passed over Neil’s face and Andrew almost released him.

The shadow turned into something darker, something sultry and ravenous, and Andrew’s cock twitched in his hand.

Neil pressed down and it was freeing to feel every ounce of the striker’s power directed against a single point on his body. “Yes,” Andrew breathed, egging Neil on in a broken whisper. “Finish the job.” 

Neil hardened his thrust the way they both knew was the key to Andrew’s ultimate pleasure, all while still gripping Andrew’s throat. Andrew gasped and spluttered, and fought for proper breaths, and Neil allowed him just enough air to keep him afloat. 

In the end, it was that thoughtfulness that became Andrew’s undoing. He came between them hard enough that it reached his clavicles. “No,” he snarled when Neil was about to let go of his throat. He slipped two fingers between Neil’s palm and his own skin to alleviate some of the pressure. “Keep them like this and clean me up.” 

Neil kept his hand around Andrew’s throat, and as per usual, Neil did a splendid job cleaning Andrew’s mess up. He was also still hard when Andrew told him to pull out.

Ah, that wouldn’t do.

“On your stomach. Lift your ass and fist your dick. You will fuck your own hand, or you won’t fuck anything at all. Just pretend it’s still my ass and you’ll do fine,” Andrew told him. “Let me know when you’re close.”

Neil nodded and got in position. He was gorgeous like that, and Andrew knew it the moment Neil’s hand wrapped around himself because of the breathless gasp given into the mattress. Neil started thrusting and from Andrew’s point of view it looked like he was fucking the mattress and nothing else.

With slightly trembling fingers, Andrew touched the place where Neil’s hand had been around his throat. Phantom feels were still etched in his flesh.

“Andrew, Andrew,” Neil cried out eventually.

“Yes?” Andrew taunted with absolute bullshit nonchalance.

“I’m close.”

“Thank you for telling me. Slow down.”

Neil whined but did as he was told.

For his good behavior, Andrew parted his ass cheeks and licked from Neil’s taint to his tailbone. Neil’s thighs quivered. “Keep fucking your hand, junkie. You’re not done,” Andrew spoke from between Neil’s cheeks.

Knowing Neil’s body better than he did perhaps his own, he knew the exact moment Neil was about to lose it. “Don’t come yet.”

“An-drew,” Neil protested with a weak whine. His back was covered in a light sheen of sweat reflecting the ceiling light. His hair was plastered to the nape of his neck, appearing darker.

“Obey me, or we’re done,” Andrew warned.

“Yes.”

Andrew dragged it out, licking, kissing, sucking, and fucking Neil with his mouth and tongue. When he pulled back, only one word was needed to unravel his striker. “Come.”

Neil came and collapsed on the bed, just a limp body pushed over the edge. Andrew admired him and had to fight the tears in his eyes to keep them from spilling over. He ended the scene with a kiss to each dimple in the little of Neil’s back. “You did good.”

The moment he said it, Andrew felt a lightness come over him, like gentle waves lapping at the seashore. His eyes were on Neil, but his mind wasn’t entirely in the room.

They came back to themselves in increments.

Neil resurfaced first and he touched Andrew’s cheek. “Love. Come back up,” his sweet voice called from across the water.

Chapter Text

Neil felt the urge to stand and move around, to pace the room, to walk, to run, to do everything but what he was doing which was sitting still in one of the beanbag chairs and waiting for Andrew to come by and get his exy bag. His phone was in his hand and he’d been rereading Andrew’s last text a few too many times. 

The ring around Neil’s neck felt heavy and comforting, but despite the assurance and promise it had come with, times were soon changing and no one could guarantee forever, Neil knew this. 

With the itch to get to the Foxhole Court and play his worries into submission crawling just beneath his skin, Neil almost got up when the suite door finally opened and the PSU Foxes starting goalkeeper came through it. Andrew’s expression was relaxed but quickly morphed into a frown when he spotted Neil. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you already be at the Court?” Andrew questioned, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. 

A little embarrassed — Andrew seemed fine, surely Neil was simply overreacting — Neil nodded and dropped his phone down on the beanbag next to him. “Yes, I. Well. I thought I would catch you here. You said we need to talk.” Saying the words out loud sent cold splashes down his spine. Nothing ever good came from those words. Neil had been forced through watching enough stupid romantic comedies to know they heralded bad news or breakups. 

Andrew nodded, remained silent, and came over to Neil. He was taking deliberate, slow steps that arrested Neil’s heart in his chest. He broke and remade eye contact shiftily. Eventually, he stopped in front of the beanbag, placed his knees on either side of Neil’s legs, and rose up so he was towering over Neil who was forced to crane his neck to keep being able to look at his face. Then the goalkeeper sank and sat down in Neil’s lap. “I need a whole weekend,” he spoke quietly. There was hesitation behind each syllable but he meant them, and Neil sensed a simmering ravenous and restless hunger building tension in Andrew’s body. 

“Okay?” Neil didn’t know how else to respond. Of all the things his mind had imagined, this was not how he had pictured the conversation starting. 

Something was off. 

When Andrew took the ring he’d given Neil out from under Neil’s shirt and turned it over in his hand with a sad look on his face, it dawned suddenly on Neil — Andrew was as nervous about the imminent distance as he was. Andrew had a pattern. He got like this, needing more and heavier, when he was out of his depth. Not one for words, this was his way of resolving the emotions in him when they grew too big. Only after, was he able to talk. 

Andrew placed a piece of paper in Neil’s hand. “This. If it’s ok with you.”

Neil unfolded the paper and looked at Andrew’s handwriting asking for things. Five scenes, mapped out, open to discussion. “It’s more than okay my love. I’ll do it. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to think. I’m right here.” 

They pressed their foreheads together and breathed each other in. 

⁎

The next day, Friday night, Andrew parked the Maserati in the driveway in Columbia. Neil had made sure they had the house all to themselves for the entire weekend, that no one would be bursting in and ruining things.  

Neil walked up the front steps, opened the door, stepped inside first, then held it for Andrew who crossed the threshold with a straight back and a raised chin. Such presence would soon be diminished, and Neil was looking forward to their first scene. Without a glance at Neil, Andrew went upstairs with their bag to place it in their bedroom; in the bag were the things they had packed for the weekend – their spreader bar, favorite cock rings, glass dildo, orange buttplug, paddle, silk ropes, leather cuffs, collar (Neil had taken it out of its box and then held up their leather bracelet and asked whether Andrew wanted to keep their collar on the whole weekend, and the bracelet during the nights, or if he just wanted it during the scenes; just during the scenes Andrew had replied.) When Andrew came down the stairs again, Neil admired him openly, from head to toes, which were unsocked. In his right hand was their collar. 

When they had first started scening, Neil hadn’t thought that his reaction to seeing the collar would always remain fierce and powerful — the quickening of his breathing, heart palpitations, warmth coursing through him that felt a lot like the way his love for Andrew heated him up from the inside out. But it was the same time after time, and it never depended on who was going to wear the collar. 

When Andrew came over to Neil there was a flicker of defiance in his eyes, and when Neil asked, “Andrew?” in a soft voice, Andrew's only reaction was to press him against the wall and kiss him deeply. 

Andrew’s hands seemed to map out every dip and rise of Neil’s body, seemed to test every give and push, probably because he knew it would be a while before he got to do so again. Eventually, he dropped his arms to the side of his body and took a step back, head bowed. “Yes,” he allowed. 

“Safewords?” Neil asked of him, then traced the line of Andrew’s jaw as the goalkeeper dutifully gave them. “Good boy,” Neil praised at the end. “Strip.”

Andrew took his clothes off slowly, folding each item perfectly and placing them on the floor at his feet. So much skin was put on display, every square inch known intimately by Neil, and it was a wonder, a miracle, how far they had come, how trust and honestly, loyalty and devotion, had paved the way for what they now had. Andrew wasn’t hard, his lovely cock simply hanging from a nest of golden hair, and if Neil played his cards right, if he hit the perfect balance that sometimes proved difficult to strike, Andrew wouldn’t be hard for a while. That would come later. 

“Collar yourself, honey,” Neil ordered in his best, most neutral tone. He watched Andrew glare at him — it was no secret how Andrew disliked having to do it himself, a bit like Neil disliked touching himself — but he stood his ground and simply arched his eyebrows in challenge. It took several seconds, but Andrew eventually did as he had been told. 

Once the collar was on, Neil traced it along Andrew’s neck. It was so beautiful there. Andrew closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh no, look at me,” Neil admonished. When he had the goalkeeper's eyes, he kissed him. “Rules: no more talking from you, unless I ask you or if you need to safeword. Nod your head if that is agreeable to you.”

Andrew nodded. 

“Kneel. You won’t be getting up either for the rest of the night unless you safeword. I’ll take care of you, you know this. But I need your complete obedience.”

To show his complete obedience indeed, Andrew dropped to his knees without hesitation. He looked up, waiting, waiting. For a moment, Neil considered walking away and leaving him naked and kneeling in the entryway, but as much as the idea had appeal, he wanted Andrew close to him. “Come with me,” he said instead. “On all fours. Into the kitchen. I’ll cook us dinner.” 

Neil took the lead and refrained from looking over his shoulder to enjoy the sight of Andrew crawling in his wake; he would get ample time to watch him later. Right now, he was too hungry and knew Andrew was as well, and he refused to delay eating a second more. 

He picked up the grocery bag from a quick stop at the local Whole Foods, took it with him, entered the kitchen, and went right over to the fridge. He pointed to a spot near it with his index finger and Andrew diligently, silently, crawled over there, coming to a stop and assuming a kneeling position of submission. Neil couldn’t help himself — he crouched down and gazed into Andrew’s amber eyes. “Color, for me kissing you?”

The brightness of Andrew’s smile was sharp and it illuminated his face. “Green.”

Neil didn’t wait. He leaned in and pressed their lips together. “Good boy,” he whispered against the warmth of Andrew’s mouth. “You’re perfect for me. Let me cook for us. And then we’ll start the real fun.” He pulled back to watch the way this last had Andrew swallowing thickly. “That’s right.” He ran a hand through the blond hair before using the top of Andrew’s head as leverage to push himself back up on his feet. 

The moment he was standing and looking down on Andrew, he pulled his hand out of the hair and slapped the goalkeeper’s left cheek. Nothing hard. Nothing that would leave a mark. Just something to remind Andrew who was in charge, to make sure the kneeling man remembered his orders, and to hear the hitch in his breathing during the moment of impact. 

When not a sound escaped Andrew, Neil repeated, “Good boy,” before turning and promptly ignoring him for the time it took him to make dinner. He poured water into a pot, dumped two pinches of salt in it, and brought it to boiling. Then he immersed half the bag of penne and got the pre-cooked chicken legs in a butter-lathered pan going, adding a bit of rosemary and thyme and lemon zest to the dish. 

He drained the pot, divided the pasta into two equal piles on two plates, peeled perfectly tender and crispy chicken legs off the pan, and poured the butter sauce on top of his own food. It would be too messy asking Andrew to eat such slippery food from the floor. Neil cut Andrew’s chicken into small pieces with this in mind as well. 

Neil set his own plate down on the table after grabbing a knife and fork for himself, went back to get a large glass of water, and then finally looked at Andrew again. 

Andrew hadn’t moved, not an inch. And Neil was proud. 

“Come here, stud,” he murmured, picking up Andrew’s plate from the counter. He sat at the table and put the food for his sub down on the floor next to his chair. Andrew came over without a fuss and waited for further instructions. “No use of hands or cutlery tonight, my love. It’s straight from the plate or not at all. If you’re thirsty, tap my knee twice and I’ll bring the glass to your mouth.” He observed Andrew’s expression minutely but was given no clues. “Give me your color.”

“Green.”

“Andrew?” 

Andrew wasn’t always able to eat directly from the floor like a house pet despite it being most often him who insisted they add it to the scene. The last thing Neil wanted was for Andrew to feel trapped, or realizing afterwards that he had gone beyond his own limit. He didn’t want Andrew to have to safeword out either in the middle of it — he would honestly be happy to give him a fork right away instead. Of course he would. 

“Green. I promise. I’m good. You’re good.”

Neil could forgive his sub’s excessive use of words this one time, so he nodded sharply. “Well? Shall we dig in then?”

He watched Andrew return his nod and bend down so he could pick up a penne with his teeth and eat it. After the fifth individual pasta and the second piece of cut chicken, Neil relaxed enough to enjoy his own food. 

Twice, Andrew tapped his knee and Neil helped Andrew drink from his glass, always with a few words of praise. 

They ate with Neil talking a mile a minute about exy and the Foxes and with Andrew silently subjected to listening without being able to complain. It worked wonderfully well for Neil, and his heart pounded against his ribs every time Andrew bent down to eat. 

While Neil did the dishes afterwards, Andrew was ordered to remain on his knees by Neil’s now empty chair at the table. When the dishes were done and put to dry on the rack, he made Andrew crawl in front of him to the living room, and this time he allowed himself the right to look.

Andrew’s strong thighs shifted as he crawled and between them hung his soft cock and balls, and Neil was unable to look away from how they swung gently with each movement of his body.

In the living room, he made Andrew kneel in the smack middle on a cushion with his back to the TV and his front facing the couch.

Neil positioned himself right behind Andrew, bracketing his legs slightly on either side of the goalkeeper’s body, certainly close enough that his knees touched Andrew’s arms. The power imbalance between kneeling and standing, between naked and clothed, between allowed to speak and silenced, had Neil’s blood singing in his veins. “Okay, my love,” he announced in a low tone. “Stroke yourself. It’s time to get hard for me.” He remained out of sight and looked down as Andrew took himself in hand, the softness of his flaccid cock slipping gently in and out of his hand. It wasn’t long before both were hard, Andrew from his own ministrations, and Neil solely from watching. “That’s it. Nice and slow. We’re gonna make this last, aren’t we?” he asked tauntingly. “You’ll wish for your voice back so you can beg me for permission to come.”

Andrew’s hand sped up and Neil tsked with disappointment. “I said slow, didn’t I?” he asked. Andrew’s hand immediately went back to its initial speed. “I’m going to turn the TV on and you’ll be following my orders.” He crouched down and whispered into his sub’s ear, “I won’t be watching you. You’ll have to earn my attention.” He kissed the lobe of Andrew’s ear before biting it playfully. When he stood, he asked, “Color?”

“Green,” was Andrew’s immediate answer.

Neil went over to sit on the couch and he turned the TV on. With just a few words of guidance, Neil was able to work Andrew up to a nice, full-bodied flush, and although he had said he wasn’t going to watch him, he couldn’t help himself peeking from time to time. Guiding Andrew through the chasing of an orgasm was something Neil enjoyed, a lot, so why would he deny himself the fruits of his labor?

In the right moments, power play turned them both on and worked wonders.

Slower, stud, left Neil’s mouth at one point while he was still focused on the sit-com playing on the television screen; Tighten your grip, make it almost hurt, left him at another point a little while later; That’s it stud, work your dick, see how red it is? he spoke with a badly held back chuckle. See how desperate you are? A bit faster now. Long, even strokes. Dip a nail into the slit. 

On and on, Neil dragged it. It was almost cruel. But not really. The tiny gasps Andrew were desperately trying to hold back told Neil he was enjoying himself too – he kept his head down in submission and followed every directive Neil gave him, his hand ceaselessly working his cock.

“Okay, we’re going to make it a little more interesting now,” Neil eventually announced. “Eyes on me.”

Andrew lifted his head and his eyes, usually so golden but now so dark, met Neil’s. He shivered visibly when Neil carefully pulled his hard cock out of his sweatpants, lifting his ass off the couch to get the pants and underwear down and off his legs. He took his shirt off to match Andrew’s nakedness and then started moving his hand up and down his length lazily and in a loose fist.

“You will copy every move I make,” Neil commanded. “But you are not allowed to come without my explicit permission.”

With the third episode of the playing sit-com completely forgotten, Neil worked his dick slowly, the way he knew Andrew liked to do it, all the while watching Andrew mimic everything to perfection. It was slow, oh so slow, for a while, and not just because Neil liked to torture Andrew into madness, but because he wanted to build the connection between the two of them before allowing himself to come. He needed to feel close to Andrew in the moment of climax, even if there were over six feet between them. 

The more Neil worked himself towards his orgasm, the longer it had been for Andrew who was glistening with a sheen of sweat coating his skin, making him shine gloriously in the warm, artificial light of the ceiling lamp. The goalkeeper’s hair was matted to his forehead and temples, and a drop of perspiration rolled down the column of his throat to pool in the hollow at the base. 

Neil came, head thrown back momentarily before righting himself and fastening his eyes on Andrew’s cock. Miraculously, Andrew hadn’t come though his hand was still moving because Neil’s hand was still moving. He let it go on a couple more seconds before whispering, “Stop.”

The sigh of relief escaping Andrew’s lungs was the real indicator of how gone he was. He whimpered, so desperate to use his words that Neil could almost hear them, almost feel them in the room, taste them on his own tongue. 

“Let’s give you a couple of minutes, gorgeous. You’ve been doing so well for me. I’m proud of you,” Neil added earnestly. He observed Andrew’s chest rising and falling with painfully controlled breaths, caught everywhere drops of sweat were running down his body, and he just let it be. He let Andrew’s body calm down before he ordered Andrew to pick up where he’d left off. He made it quick and intense. “Come, stud.”

Neil was off the couch the very moment Andrew came, and he threw himself down on the living room carpet to catch Andrew when Andrew’s body gave out and surrendered. He snaked his arms around the goalkeeper and felt the heavy weight of Andrew’s lax body collide against his own. 

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Neil murmured into Andrew ear. He kissed his sweaty forehead, brushed away his damp hair, and continuously offered words of praise to guide Andrew safely into subspace. When he looked down, Andrew’s eyes were closed and a couple of tears of ecstasy were clinging to his lashes. There was a subtle smile on his lips. 

Neil spread his kisses all over Andrew’s face and ran his hands down Andrew’s back, hugging him close. Then he took a deep breath and settled in for staying on the floor, in not the most comfortable position, because he would rather be damned than move Andrew. He let his blissed-out sub float in his arms for minutes and minutes. He didn’t look at the clock, didn’t count the seconds in his head, just knew it had been a while when Andrew made the first movements of someone waking up.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hi. Hello.” He cupped Andrew’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Andrew’s left hand came up to cup Neil’s cheek as well, and he echoed, “I love you too.” Neil just about died when Andrew slipped a finger inside the ring around his neck to the first knuckle and pulled. “I enjoyed that.”

With a delighted chuckle, Neil traced a finger through the mess of cum on Andrew’s chest and stomach – there was a lot. “I can see that.”

Though the scene was technically over, had come to the agreed point of conclusion when Andrew came, Andrew still grabbed Neil’s wrist in a firm hold and guided his cum-covered finger to his lips. He sucked the digit into his mouth and cleaned it off with a soft groan.

“Andrew?” Neil asked, his eyes trained on where his finger had disappeared into Andrew’s mouth.

“Hmmm?”

“Can you go upstairs while I get us some snacks and water?”

Andrew removed the finger and grinned. “I know how to walk, so, yeah,” he said flatly with his usual flawless delivery of sarcasm.

Up in their bedroom, after a quick shower together, they settled in bed, Andrew wrapped in Neil’s arms and his head resting against Neil’s chest, and they slowly made a dent in all the treats Neil had gotten at Whole Foods. They kissed softly and felt around the other’s body without taking it any further than surface touches not meant to arouse. When the goalkeeper slipped into sleep, he looked more relaxed and settled than he had in weeks, and Neil was unable to fall asleep, didn’t want to fall asleep. All he needed was the permission he knew he had to stare at his boyfriend who had just submitted beautifully to him. 

Chapter Text

When Andrew awoke in the morning, Neil’s body was curled around his own, left arm slung over him, scarred hand curled on the mattress in plain sight, and knee bent and wedged between his thighs. Neil’s warm presence in his back had Andrew melting back into sleep in just a few seconds. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up with the need to assess where he was and get a feel for the situation, something he guessed would never leave him completely, but for months now he’d grown comfortable giving Neil his back instead of turning it to the wall, basking in the knowledge that he was safe. 

An hour later, Andrew opened his eyes again, a little more rested. The sun outside had risen far enough in the sky to shine a beam through the hole in the pulled curtains left behind by a cigarette burn. It was April, so that meant it was nearing nine o’clock. 

He wondered if more sleep was in the cards for him, but figured it wasn’t. He remained in bed though, amazed that his junkie was still asleep behind him. Normally, the striker would have gone for his run already and taken a shower, made coffee and drunk at least two cups. Andrew supposed last night’s scene had taken more out of Neil than Neil had let on. Or, maybe, it had soothed him the way it had Andrew and this was why he was relaxed enough to sleep in.  

Andrew hoped it was the latter, but if it was the former, they might have to change today’s first scene, which was considerably heavier. The thought niggled in his mind like a worm gnawing through an apple, until Neil made the first signs of waking. 

Neil’s arm tightened around Andrew and he pressed the full length of his body closer. Andrew had already been vaguely aware of his junkie’s hard cock, but like this, there was no doubt. It was rare that Neil wanted to do anything about it in the morning, so Andrew banished the thought and scolded his own dick for following Neil’s example. 

“Morning,” Neil murmured against Andrew’s neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “How are you feeling?” He never not asked that question first thing after a nightly scene. 

Andrew turned instinctively in Neil’s arms to face him. “Good. You?”

Neil hummed and buried his face in Andrew’s neck, inhaling deeply. “So good.” He pulled back so they could look at each other again. “Was there anything you didn’t like?” He always asked this as well. Andrew loved him for it. 

A couple of times, Andrew had woken the next day with the realization that one or two of the things they’d done hadn't been his cup of tea. Sometimes it was hard knowing those things in the moment, and distance from a scene offered enough hindsight to come to certain conclusions. He shook his head. 

“Are you sure?” Neil pressed on. 

“Yes. I promise.” Andrew traced the small dips under Neil’s eyes before softly kissing him good morning with a hand in his auburn curls. 

Neil hummed his appreciation. “What do you want to do this morning?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Andrew said quickly. Breakfast, coffee, a smoke, a ride in the Maserati out of town, was exactly what he needed before their next scene. 

“Should I still bake the cake?”

Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yes. Of course. What a stupid question.”

Neil pinched his arm in retaliation. “Let’s get up then.”

“Been waiting for you,” Andrew retorted with mock dryness. 

The laugh bubbling out of Neil had Andrew smiling, and when he rolled away to sit on the edge of the bed, Neil touched the low of his back then gave a small push. They took turns in the bathroom to relieve themselves, got dressed, went down into the kitchen, and made coffee and toast smeared with peanut butter. They took their breakfast outside to sit on the front steps. It was a beautiful day, one of those sunny Saturdays where the beginning of summer was teasingly chasing spring away. The usual bite of chill in the air was gone, leaving in its stead a quiet warmth heralding more days like this to come. 

They ate in silence. The neighborhood was waking with them, people leaving their suburban houses to go on walks or grocery runs, families pushing babies in prams or holding onto the scruff of t-shirts as their kids learned how to ride a bike. 

It was a little nauseating to see happy families in such strong numbers. It didn’t use to be this way, but since he had moved in with Nicky years ago the neighborhood had changed. 

Neil sensed Andrew’s sudden discomfort. He touched his wrist to get his attention. “Let’s go for a ride,” he offered. Andrew nodded and waited on the steps for Neil to dip into the house and get the keys, their wallets, and their shoes. 

Five minutes later, the suburban houses were behind them and the open road ahead. They didn’t have a destination in mind, and yet, they often ended up in one of four places. This time it was off the road where a hiking trail led into a forest. In the heart of the forest trickled a small creek, and next to the small creek, where it was narrowest, stood a massive boulder. 

They climbed it effortlessly, having long ago found the right spots to put their feet and not slip uselessly down smooth rock, and at the top they smoked a cigarette each. 

“Was there anything you didn’t like?” Andrew asked, a woodpecker making an infernal, repetitive melody to their left. He thought back to Neil on the couch, naked, pleasuring himself.

“Love, I enjoyed every minute of it,” Neil turned to assure him. He pressed his index finger to where the collar had hugged Andrew’s throat. “And I’ll enjoy myself in a couple of hours too.” His eyes were darkening at his own words, Andrew observed with amusement. “I’ll make you work for it.” And just like that he tackled Andrew so Andrew fell back against the rough texture of the bouler, and he straddled his hips. “Will you be good for me?”

“I don’t know. Will the cake you’re going to bake be good?”

Neil laughed, his whole body vibrating against Andrew. “You know I’m excellent at baking that one. So, yes, it’ll be really good.”

“Then I’ll be really good too.”

Neil rolled off him and they smoked a second cigarette each.

On their way back to the house, they stopped at a small local grocery shop where Neil went hunting for all the ingredients needed to make the chocolate cake Matt had once taught him to make perfectly. Naturally, Neil hadn’t told the backliner back when he’d asked for help that he’d wanted to know how to bake a cake because he wanted to have something special for Andrew during aftercare, but Matt definitely knew Neil wanted to learn it so he could have something sweet for Andrew to munch on. Further information was unnecessary.

Neil also bought a pineapple to make small treats. There were few fruits Andrew enjoyed, but this was one of them. 

Back home, while Neil flitted about in the kitchen, dumping flour, eggs, and milk in a bowl, melting dark chocolate over a bain-marie, and whisking soft butter with sugar and cocoa powder in another bowl, Andrew was sitting at the table eating a sandwich. As soon as the cake was in the oven, Andrew licked the batter off the spoon with a contented sigh and smile.

Neil took the baked cake out of the oven 25 minutes later, dusted sugar powder on top, and placed it on the highest shelf in the fridge. Last but not least, he dunked squares of pineapple in the still melted chocolate, placed them on a plate, and put them next to the cake in the fridge. Then he went over to the kitchen table with a seriousness that told Andrew it was almost time. Instantly, Andrew felt a rush run through him, a kind of dizziness gripping his mind.

“Is there anything you want to change?” Neil asked, not one for beating around the bush when it wasn’t necessary.

“No.” Andrew was certain.

Neil smiled devilishly. “Okay then. You know what to do. Go get all the things we discussed. Leave nothing behind unless you change your mind about them. I won’t get mad if you do, and I won’t pry. I want you naked and in the living room in two minutes.”

With a curt nod, Andrew got up from his chair and walked up the stairs to their room where he’d dumped their bag the night before. He stripped quickly and didn’t bother folding any of it for lack of time. Then he took out the spreader bar, the buttplug Neil had chosen, the paddle, and their luxurious, long peacock feather exploding with vibrant colors. He snatched the collar from his night table where he had placed it after Neil had removed it before their shower last night as well as the bottle of lube from the drawer. 

Every item felt right in his hands.

Neil was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room, looking wholly unthreatening and like anything but a dom. That changed when he saw Andrew naked and he smiled wolfishly, almost predator-like. “Present yourself, handsome.”

The order burned through every muscle in Andrew’s body and he went over to the exact place he’d been kneeling the night before, placed the objects in his hands on the floor, and got down on all four. He arched his back, presenting his body to be used, his cock already half-hard and his balls heavy as they hung from his body.

The scene looked nothing like the night before. The television was off, and Neil’s attention was solely on him, so much so it felt like a branding touch. Every hairs on his body stood on end in anticipation the longer Neil didn’t move.

When Neil finally moved, he seized the spreader bar, hooked the ends around Andrew’s ankles, adjusted the length so Andrew’s feet were forced as far apart as Neil wanted them – it was right on the limit of too far, too much, too uncomfortable, but also, not quite. “So pretty like that,” Neil announced. “All mine to do what I want with.”

Neil went around Andrew to position the objects in plain sight, lining them up neatly in the order they were going to be used. The plug had Andrew roll his eyes – it had been a present for Neil, custom made, see-through glass with an orange fox embedded in its core, the fluffy tail curled in the wide base. Neil was a fan of the design; Andrew much less.

“You’re allowed to talk. You’re allowed to move. You’re allowed to beg and plead. As long as you do what I say. Is that understood?”

It was perfectly understood and exactly what Andrew needed. He told Neil as much whose responding smile was like the sun dawning in the sky and lighting up the world. After a kiss to his forehead and the recitation of safewords, Neil went round Andrew and resumed his place out of sight. He heard the squish of lube, the wet sound of fingers rubbing together, and then felt the cold touch of a digit to his hole. 

Neil started out with some light fingering, using just one and making sure to never go anywhere near Andrew’s prostate. After a few minutes of taunting him like that, Neil’s breath ghosted over the backside of Andrew’s ballsack before he extended his tongue and licked . It was a kitten lick, a surface lick, and Neil repeated them continuously while fingering Andrew’s wet hole.

Suddenly, the touches stopped, and by that time, Andrew’s arms were shaking slightly. Neil eased his hands up Andrew’s spine. “You can lower yourself unto your forearms, stud. Don’t overexert yourself.”

Andrew did as he was allowed, dropping his chest nearer the floor, his ass popping further in the air. It was the perfect position to be in, he realized.

“So fucking beautiful,” Neil assured him darkly. “Can you pass me the paddle?”

It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but Andrew managed to reach the paddle laid out in front of him clumsily and give it to Neil behind his back.

“Thank you.” 

Andrew heard Neil stand.

“Like we discussed. Ten strikes to your right cheek. And three to your left. Color?”

“Green.” The moment he said it, Andrew started quivering with anticipation. 

Andrew couldn’t see the satisfied smile on Neil’s face, but he heard it as if it was speaking to him. The first strike was a shock to his body. The second one even more so when it came down barely a second later. 

“God, you have such a perfect ass, stud. It’ll be so sore when I am done with you. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Neil said in all seriousness, punctuating his promise with a deep, third hit that echoed in the living room. 

Andrew hissed against the pain. 

Pain wasn’t Andrew’s kink. He didn’t feel it in a pleasurable way like Neil did. It wasn’t his favorite activity by far, but it was one of Neil’s, which was why he had agreed to add it to the scene. He wanted to feel what Neil felt and submit to it, he wanted to connect with his junkie in this moment. To feel near him. To share with him. The thought alone was the very thing that triggered gentle tendrils of subspace to crawl along his mind for the first time that day. 

The fourth blow stung and the fifth one burned. After ten firm smacks tears were gathered in Andrew’s eyes, but he didn’t want it any other way. The final three hits to his other cheek were nothing in comparison, which was the whole point. 

Neil blew air on the abused skin, making Andrew squirm. “I’m going to plug you,” Neil warned him before coming back into sight and crouching down to pick up the glass, fox buttplug. The squelch of more lube sounded from behind Andrew when Neil got back in position and for the second time, something wet and cold penetrated his ass. Neil sank the toy in, in one smooth go, then teased it back out. He played with Andrew before giving one last shove and leaving the plug spearing Andrew. “Oh god,” Andrew muttered. “Shit.” The tip was nudged against his prostate.

“Oh, he speaks,” Neil chuckled. He rhythmically tapped the base of the plug playfully. With a snort, Andrew realized Neil was tapping along to the Foxes’ anthem, the one playing before every game.

Andrew didn’t comment though a slew of words wrestled in his mind. 

“Cat got your tongue again?” Neil mocked. “Well, be good and make yourself useful. Hand me the feather.”

In another clumsy move, Andrew gave Neil the feather, dreading what was to come. His mouth got dry when the first brush of the barbs making up the outer vane ran across the aching skin of his ass. He gasped. Loudly. 

The torture continued a while. Neil ran the full, long length of the feather over every inch of Andrew’s ass, teased the back of his thigh, and along the length of his cock, careful to keep it away from the tip and dirtying it unnecessarily. They’d had to wash it once before, and the feather had unfortunately lost some of its glossy shine because of it. 

It suddenly became too much. Andrew’s throat was drying up from gasping often.  “Yellow,” he croaked.

The feather fell away from his skin and Neil scrambled to Andrew’s front. “Andrew?” he asked, his voice more panicky than the situation warranted.

“All good. I just need some water.” His voice was hoarse.

The relief in Neil’s eyes read Oh thank god , and he rushed to the kitchen to bring back a bottle of water. He helped Andrew drink, small sips by small sips. “Do you want to stop? You’ve already done so well.” 

“Fat chance, junkie. You’re not done.”

Neil chuckled. “As you like.” He put the bottle down and in reach in case Andrew needed more, then stood and pulled his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his hard cock. He stepped closer and let the glistening tip press against Andrew’s lips. “Back on your hands, love. Here is how it’s going to go. I’m going to choke you with my cock and you’re going to touch yourself. When you need air, tap my leg and I’ll pull back, but, whenever you do, whenever I’m not down your throat, you stop touching yourself. Okay?” He paused to let the words sink in and Andrew blinked, his cock aching at the prospect of him being used like that, of being in pseudo-control of his own fate. “You’re going to come with my dick choking you,” Neil reiterated for emphasis, voice dark just like Andrew loved it when he was submitting. It wasn’t Neil’s voice the way it was when he was goofing around with the team, not the voice he used when chewing out reporters during post-game press duty, wasn’t the voice he employed when he was studying and mumbling to himself under his breath, wasn’t the voice of exasperation when Kevin called to complain and bitch. No, this was the voice that only came out when it was two of them. This voice was all for Andrew and no one else. “I want to see your struggle and fight and lose. I want to see you destroyed.”

Andrew whimpered loudly. Straight up fucking whimpered. 

“Open up. Relax your jaw. And take it. Hand around your dick.” Andrew gripped himself and hissed, then tightened his fist to really feel it. He opened his mouth, expecting Neil to push in immediately. The striker didn’t; he took several steps back and looked at Andrew. “So pathetic like this,” he murmured sweetly, the contrast between words and tone burning Andrew from the inside out. When he finally stepped back to Andrew, he gripped his hair and held him tightly in place. Finally, he pushed past Andrew’s parted lips and didn’t stop until his balls hit his chin. Andrew started moving his hand. “God you sound so good, so filthy.” Neil thrust forward and Andrew gurgled and gagged around his length. He did it again, and again, and then stayed buried deep. There were tears clinging to Andrew’s eyelashes from the face fucking and from the sudden, overwhelming lack of air. 

The first time Andrew tapped Neil's leg, Neil hurried to pull out. His hand gentled its hold in his hair but his next words were hard like steel. “Couldn’t even come? Not enough breath? Was my dick not good enough for you?”

Without warning, he pushed back in and constricted Andrew’s airflow.

It took Andrew four times of nearly blacking out before he was able to come. Neil came and Andrew swallowed everything.

Immediately after, he collapsed on his back, chest heaving for air, his lungs desperate to fill and the aftershocks of one of his most powerful orgasms to date still tingling on the outskirts of his limbs. He’d made sure to land away from the wet spot on the carpet that would need rigorous cleaning. His vision had gone blurry, black dots swimming in and out of focus, and Neil laid himself down next to him, the full length of their arms touching. “That was, fuck ,” were the first words he was able to speak. Not very eloquent, but no one could in their right mind expect much more from him right then. 

With a chuckle, Neil asked if he could hold his hand. Andrew nodded because he wanted nothing more. Andrew hadn’t reached subspace, but that didn’t matter, that's what the later scene was about. Their evening scene was when Andrew was required to completely give up his control and submit. Even as his body was calming down, his mind buzzed at the prospect.

Neil squeezed his hand. “I’m just going to get the cake from the kitchen after freeing you,” he announced softly. Andrew nodded as Neil quickly released Andrew’s ankles from the spreader bar and eased the plug out of his ass. He was too spent to watch Neil leave the room but had regained some of his energy when Neil came back, enough to crane his neck and look at him. His junkie was carrying the cake in his hands along with two forks, some sweets from the night before they hadn’t been able to finish, the plate of chocolate covered pineapples, cups hanging from his fingers, a pack of wet wipes, and a thermos of hot chocolate. How Neil managed to balance it all and then settle everything down on the coffee table without breaking anything was a wonder. He smiled at his own achievement like a dork, came over to Andrew, extended his hand, smiled even wider when Andrew gripped it, and helped Andrew get to his feet.

Relocated on the couch, Neil gently took the collar off Andrew and put it down on the floor, out of sight. Andrew stretched his neck, popping the top of his spine, then laid down on the soft cushions of the couch and stretched the whole of his body like a lazy cat. It felt good to relieve his knees of the pressure from the floor but his ass protested slightly. Neil pulled a wet wipe from the packet and began washing Andrew’s stomach, chest, and flaccid cock, then he covered him with a blanket to protect his naked body from getting cold.

Neil fed Andrew pieces of the cake and bits of fruit, every movement slow and deliberate. They drank the hot cocoa and turned the TV on. The news flashed on the screen, showing some old Senator making promises he would never keep if elected for a second term. Neil changed the channel immediately, and Andrew fell asleep to the sound of a golden age musical playing.

They went out for dinner a couple of hours later, treating themselves to Italian at a small restaurant where the owners were actually Italian and cooked their food with love and passion. The panna cotta was especially delicious and the flavor of the decaf espresso packed a punch, exploding in a variety of bitter and chocolaty notes in Andrew’s mouth.

Back home again, Andrew changed into sweatpants and a simple t-shirt while Neil stayed in his jeans and the shirt that had once belonged to Matt and was way too big on his frame. The seconds on the clock in the living room ticked loudly, minutes vanishing into thin air at an alarmingly fast pace.

When nine o’clock came dangerously close, Andrew’s heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird in his chest, wild and fast. The anticipation was like nectar from the sweetest flower.

Suddenly Neil was standing, towering over Andrew where Andrew was sitting on the couch and waiting, with their collar back in his hand. “Where do you want this scene, handsome?”

“Here is fine.”

Neil arched a dubious eyebrow. “Just fine? Are you comfortable enough?”

“I am.”

“Good. Because you know you won’t be for very long.” Neil grinned, and it was evil. “Remember why?” He knelt at Andrew’s feet. Like this, they were face to face, eyes to eyes, equal though they were about to become anything but. 

Andrew gulped inaudibly. “Yes. I’m not allowed to come tonight. At all.” 

“That’s right, stud. I’ll give you pleasure but you won’t be able to fully enjoy it or get that sweet release. It'll be torture, I know. What’s your color for that?”

“Absolutely green.”

“Think you can handle it? You’re usually such a needy thing.”

Andrew’s heart hammered away in his chest at the reminder of how much he liked submitting and becoming Neil’s plaything. 

“Aw. Look how scared you are. But you’re also turned on aren’t you?” Neil cupped Andrew’s crotch through his sweatpants. “You need this. You like being owned don’t you?” Neil looked at him expectantly. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“You like it when I make you all mine, don’t you? You need me to be in control of your orgasms. You want to give me power and relinquish your own.”

“Yes,” Andrew agreed, arching off the couch in search of friction. 

Neil immediately took his hand away. “And you know your punishment if you fail to obey me?”

“You’ll cage me. For two weeks. And you’ll fuck me every night then leave me wanting,” Andrew recited dutifully. 

“Correct, stud. Do you like being caged?”

“No.” Absolutely not. It was the worst. But he’d survived it before so he could do it again if he accidentally slipped up. 

“Are you ready?” Neil asked sweetly. Andrew could only nod, his throat filled with a lump that was half excitement and half terror. “I’m going to collar you. This time, no speaking, no moving, unless I tell you to. But I’ll help you with that. I’ll keep your mouth busy in ways so you can’t say a word. And I’ll help you with the no-coming. For a while anyway.” He pulled their pink and sturdy cock ring from his jean pocket. When the heck had he put it there? Had Neil been walking around with it in his pocket all day? Did he have it at the restaurant? The thought made Andrew warm all over, cock twitching in his briefs, and he wanted his junkie’s mouth on him soon. “Show me your throat. Show me how much you want it,” Neil ordered in a quiet but deep voice. Obedience was the only option Andrew’s body allowed himself. He would not challenge Neil tonight — the ramifications were too dire to even think about. 

Andrew leaned forward and bared his throat. And he gave himself over to the feeling of the soft leather hugging him and pressing down on his skin. He wanted to ask for it tighter but the collar was on and he wasn’t allowed to speak anymore. 

“Give me your safewords. Verbal and non-verbal for when you can’t speak.”

Andrew gave them.

In an instant, Neil’s left hand grabbed Andrew’s chin and tipped his head back, and with his right hand he pried his mouth open and pushed two whole fingers down his throat. 

Neil hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d keep Andrew’s mouth stuffed, and Andrew gagged around the intrusion. He also closed his eyes and delighted in the taste of Neil’s skin against his tongue. He wanted to suck them but was aware he wasn’t allowed to move, not even his tongue. “Get naked, handsome.”

Andrew glared at Neil when Neil didn’t take his fingers out of his throat; how the hell was he supposed to get undressed like this?

“Oh, you’ll find a way,” Neil answered as though Andrew had spoken his question out loud. “I have faith in you.” 

Eventually, Andrew managed to shimmy out of his pants and underwear, as well as his shirt, which then hung from the crook of Neil’s elbow like it had been hung out to dry. 

“Good boy. Tonight I’ll try to make you come. Of course, your job is to resist.” Neil rolled the cock ring on. “Be good for me.” And with that, he lowered his head and licked the precum off the slit in Andrew’s cockhead. When he sank his mouth to take the whole length in, his fingers slipped halfway out of Andrew’s throat to rest idly on his tongue instead. 

Effortlessly, through years of having studied and mastered Andrew’s pleasure, Neil brought him to the edge and then pulled away completely. Andrew fought every instinct in his body that wanted him to thrash and whine, thrust up and take control of the situation. “That was just one, and you look quite wrecked already. This is going to be fun.” He removed his fingers from Andrew’s mouth.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Neil took fun to unbearable levels, edging Andrew over and over. It became worse when he painstakingly took the cock ring off and asked Andrew to suck on it and keep it between his teeth. Without it around his dick it was nearly impossible to hold back his release. 

After the seventh edge, Neil abruptly stood up, made Andrew jerk his dick with his hand, and came all over his face with a strained, “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

The cock ring fell out of Andrew’s mouth just before Neil’s cum landed on his tongue and lips and chin. Neil put his spent dick back into his pants and took a step back to admire how ruined Andrew was. 

“Take the collar off,” he said, the last command of the night. 

Andrew hastened to undo the buckle in his neck, and with the sudden permission to talk, he let go of a sob and called out for Neil. 

In an instant, Neil was in his lap, careful to not rub up against Andrew’s cock, and he asked, “What can I do for you? How can I help you cool down?” His eyes were roaming Andrew's face, searching.

Andrew didn’t know exactly. He just needed his junkie close. His dick was but an afterthought though it screamed in anger at him for having agreed to this treatment. 

“Let’s shower. Your face is covered. Let me wash it off you.”

When Andrew followed Neil up the stairs, his dick bobbed with every step he took. In the bathroom, Neil sat Andrew down on the bench, cleaned his face with a wet, warm towel, pulled him into the shower, and scrubbed them both down. After, Neil wrapped a towel around Andrew, dried the water off his body, and guided them into the bedroom.

Andrew’s cock had gone down, thank heaven , but despite that small blessing bestowed upon him by the universe, he knew a better way to relax his mind. 

“Come here,” Neil invited, lying down, head resting on his pillow and eyes beginning to close with sleep. He had seen the need in Andrew’s look.

Andrew went, waited for Neil’s explicit consent, then positioned himself between Neil’s legs, lying down on his side with his head using Neil’s thigh like a pillow. He opened his mouth and fitted Neil’s soft cock in his mouth and let go of everything. He let his mind empty completely. He floated away and was only barely aware of Neil’s hand in his hair.

Chapter Text

Andrew was hard like he hadn’t been in the morning for quite some time. Not having come the night before was something he was acutely feeling now and he looked forward to Neil walking up and to their fourth scene beginning. 

Neil didn’t wake within the following half hour, and Andrew became delirious with need. He squeezed the base of hic cock, circling his thumb and middle finger around it, trapping his balls as well for a few moments of relief. 

“I haven't given you permission to touch yourself,” Neil said out of the blue. Instantly, Andrew’s hand flew away. Neil pressed closer against Andrew’s back, the hardness of his own cock prominent. “Good boy. I’ll reward you for that later,” he whispered near the shell of Andrew’s ear. “But I need to make you pay for the touch you weren’t allowed to make first.” He chuckled. “I’m open to suggestion on how I should do that.”

Andrew hated it when Neil asked because whatever he suggested was always dismissed — it was part of Neil humiliating him, refusing to take him seriously. He said instead, “I only did it to make sure I wouldn’t come before you had a chance to ruin me,” knowing that this too was going to be dismissed. 

Neil hmmed in thought, a long and drawn out sound. “I’ll blindfold you as punishment.”

As far as punishments went, this was a cruel one. Andrew enjoyed watching Neil’s face and every expression of pleasure passing over it, but he also needed to see if anything in his junkie’s look said something he wasn’t letting on out loud with words.

“I promise that if there is something I’m not enjoying, I’ll let you know. Okay stud? You can switch your brain off now. I’ve got you.” Neil pushed Andrew between his shoulder blades to get him to sit. When their eyes met, their little sexual world came to life with a roaring fire. “Tell me what we’ve got planned. If you want anything taken out, tell me now.”

Andrew swallowed. “Your going to bind my arms in my back so I can’t touch you at all. You’ll blindfold me so I can’t see you. You’ll silence me with the bit gag so I can’t talk. And you’ll ride me the way you see fit. I’m not allowed to move at all. If i do, you’ll slap me to remind me who’s in charge.”

“I’ll slap you hard. You forgot that part.”

“You’ll slap me hard, yes.”

“Do you want to get slapped?”

Andrew didn’t answer because yes, he would very much like it. When he was too slow responding, Neil grabbed a fistful of hair and forced Andrew’s head down until they were at eye level. 

“I asked you a question. I require an answer.”

Andrew swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Andrew swallowed again. “I want you to slap me.”

“Hm, maybe,” Neil contemplated slowly. “Sit back up. I’ll get the stuff. Collar yourself, and maybe you’ll get your wish.”

Andrew collared himself perfunctorily, making quick work with the lock. 

“Good, so good, being able to do that without scowling like a petulant child; I call that progress,” Neil taunted. Andrew grew impossibly harder at the sting in Neil’s words. “Hands behind your back, now.”

Quickly, Andrew put his hands behind his back and watched as Neil bound them together by the wrists with a carefully cut off piece of black silk. He grunted when Neil used the excess to bind the base of his dick. “Fuck you,” Andrew hissed when Neil tightened the silk. 

Anger flashed in Neil’s eyes and Andrew closed his own, knowing what his rudeness was going to cost him. Neil slapped his left cheek forcefully. Pain spread instantly and Andrew gasped, unclenching his jaw and opening his eyes again. “That’s for disrespecting me. Do it one more time and you won’t get to come until tomorrow. I’ll use you as my personal toy, for my own pleasure alone. Mouth and ass. Don’t think I won’t.”

Andrew thought no such thing. Neil was being dead serious, he knew this all too well. He nodded and bowed his head in respect. 

“Good. Close your eyes.”

Neil waited until Andrew had closed his eyes to blindfold him with another piece of cut silk. The sudden darkness was startling and not at all what Andrew wanted. Neil tracing the silk over his eyes was only slightly making it bearable. “Maybe you won’t touch yourself without permission just before a scene next time.”

With a nod, Andrew agreed though he doubted he’d learnt his lesson. It was bound to happen again. 

“Open your mouth.” Neil fitted the bit gag between Andrew’s teeth and told him to bite down. Andrew did when Neil secured the gag in the back of his head. “Alright then. One last thing. I’m going to open myself up. You’ll just sit there and be pretty. Then I’m going to sit on your dick.”

It was torture listening to Neil pour lube out of the tube, and the wet sounds of him opening his ass up was evil. Then a sudden hand grabbed his length, stroked it harshly a couple of times, then held it in place. Heat engulfed it. And pressure. And it was a lot to handle without permission to move. 

Neil rode him slow and good. He raised himself on his knees from time to time, making the mattress dip beneath them, and tightened his rim around Andrew’s cockhead. 

God, Andrew wanted to move. He wanted to take control and claim his junkie. But instead he was reduced to a human dildo, drool slowly running out the corners of his lips. Tears were wetting the silk blindfold where it made contact with his eyelashes. 

“You should see yourself. Absolutely ruined. I could take a photo. Several even. And then take the blindfold off and make you jerk off to the sight of them. You wouldn’t last long. You’re always so needy, desperate to come at any chance I let you.”

The idea of being photographed, of proof appearing in physical form, was both upsetting and exciting. 

“Oh, you like that. I felt your dick twitch inside me,” Neil chuckled. He then rode Andrew faster, the sound of his hand working his own cock added to the mix of everything else. 

Andrew felt Neil’s warm cum land on his chest. Deftly, Neil undid the gag and ordered him to open his mouth wide. As soon as his lips were parted, Neil rubbed his cum into Andrew’s tongue. 

“You think you deserve to come?” Neil asked sweetly. He was always kinder after an orgasm. 

Part of Andrew wanted Neil to be mean. To hit him again. To refuse him his pleasure like the night before. The other part of him begged, “Yes.” But, there was something he wanted to ask for first. He wasn’t above begging some more. “Use your hand on my throat.”

Andrew couldn’t see Neil but knew he was staring at him in thought. “Who do you think you are?” Neil eventually asked. “Are you in charge here?” 

“No,” Andrew quickly assured him. “You are. And you could use your hand.”

Neil snorted and grabbed Andrew’s throat fleetingly below the collar. He let go again. “Like that?”

“Yeah,” Andrew replied. He was dizzy from just that one touch. “I trust you. My fingers are free enough to snap if I need you to stop. You won’t hurt me. You won’t. You know where the line is.” Which was true. They’d been practicing, nonsexually, outside of scenes, privately between classes, in their bed when the dorm was empty. 

“Okay.” There was a moment of softness in Neil’s voice that was immediately canceled out by his hand wrapped around Andrew’s throat. He was good at it too, and soon Andrew fought for breath, his cock aching from how badly he wanted it.

Too soon, Neil let go. 

But then he tightened even more, his other hand slipping between their bodies to tightened around Andrew’s dick. “That’s what you want? Me owning more than just your pleasure, your life too?”

Andrew wanted to say yes but all that came out was a constricted grapple for air. 

Neil let go again. Then shuffled back; his mouth on Andrew was a complete shock to his nervous system, and Andrew came altogether way too quickly when the silk around the base of his dick was taken off. It was embarrassing, something Neil told him in no uncertain terms, effectively prolonging Andrew’s come-down. 

He drifted off. 

Next thing Andrew knew he was sitting on the floor of the shower and Neil was washing him with kind fingers. “Neil?” he asked, confused.

“You were out for a while, love. You were cold and asked for a shower,” Neil explained. “It’s time to come back,” he added, crouching in front of Andrew, his ice-blue eyes warm and adoring. “You did so fucking well, Andrew. I’m really proud of you.”

Andrew sighed. His junkie’s praise would never not burn him up from the inside out. 

“I’ll finishing cleaning you and we’ll go down to eat breakfast. My treat. I’ve ordered from the café downtown. They should be here in ten minutes.”

“Pancakes?”

“Of course.”

“Coffee?”

“Naturally.”

Andrew felt his lips stretch into a lazy smile. “Good.”

After stepping out of the shower, Andrew caught his reflection in the mirror, and there, for the first time, were distinct marks from their breathplay. His eyes bulged and he stepped over to the sink, leaning over it and touching the redness. 

“I know,” Neil said, coming over to stand behind Andrew in front of the mirror. “I noticed them. I really tried not to be too forceful. I’m sorry.”

Andrew spun around one eighty degrees and placed both hands on Neil’s hips. “You have nothing to apologize for. These,” he announced, pressing a fingertip to where he knew the mark was circling his throat, “will fade before we’re back at the Tower tomorrow afternoon.”

“They’re already a bit fainter,” Neil said. 

“There you go.” He leaned in to kiss Neil’s cheek. “I love it when you choke me. And I asked for it.”

Neil turned his head to catch Andrew’s lips and he kissed him fiercely. 

Half an hour later, Andrew was stuffed with pancake and coffee, and he was as relaxed as he could possibly get. Things were still a bit fuzzy around the edges of his mind, but that was good. Wonderful. 

They loaded the car with a picnic bag a couple of hours later, packing the remainder of the cake and the chocolate covered squares of pineapple as well as sandwiches, and just drove in the direction of their favorite spot of nature. Neil handfed Andrew and an hour later after that, they were back in the car. 

Halfway home, the air in the car shifted from pleasant and loose to tense and worried. It wasn’t coming from Andrew. “Neil, what’s going on?” He worried his junkie was dropping and that he needed help. 

He wasn’t too far off the mark, though it wasn’t a drop. It was something else. 

“I don’t think I can do a fifth scene,” Neil told him. 

Andrew scrunched his eyebrows when he saw the worried glint in Neil’s eyes. “I don’t need it,” he replied honestly. Neil sighed in relief, but still there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “There is more, isn’t there?” Andrew asked. 

“Yes.”

“I’m listening.”

Neil looked down at his feet. Andrew pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. “Tell me, Neil.” When Neil didn’t immediately, Andrew suddenly understood. “You need me to take charge.”

Fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, Neil finally admitted, “I need my dom.”

Fast like lightning, Andrew took charge. “Hold onto the handles next to your seat. Look forward, eyes on the road. Don’t move. Don’t think. I’ll use this time to come up with something for if you still want it when we get back home. When I tell you to, you’ll bend down and warm my cock. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The honorific arrested everything in Andrew and he had to battle himself to not snap out of his slowly manifesting dom-zone. They had never used words like this before, and he had no idea what made Neil utter one now. He swallowed thickly, pushing to the back of his mind the need to talk about it. They would talk later. 

“Good,” he said instead. “Go on then.”

Neil nodded and grabbed the handles with his two hands. He looked out the front window without taking his eyes off the road ahead, not once moving his head to the side. 

Sir.

The word echoed in Andrew’s brain for miles and he honestly had no idea how he felt about it. The fact that it had slipped through Neil’s lips so easily, so readily and effortlessly, was disconcerting. Did Neil need Andrew to be a sir in addition to being a dom? 

When little of the way back to the house remained, Andrew ordered Neil to unzip his jeans and pull his soft cock out. “Warm it for me, love.”

Neil did as commanded. He dropped his head down to engulf Andrew’s cock in his mouth. It was warm, and wet, and velvety, and Andrew reminded himself not to thrust up and deep in pursuit of his own pleasure. This was about Neil, and no one else. 

When the striker’s lips fastened around the base of his cock, when Andrew dick rested on Neil’s soft tongue, he slowed the car down so as to not crash it into another vehicle or against the shoulder ramp. 

It wasn’t exactly easy to drive back to the house with his dick held gently in Neil’s wet mouth, the heat a cavern of raw pleasure he tried to squash down. Andrew would walk barefooted to the ends of the world, reducing his feet to bloody stumps, for Neil, and so he would weather the tingles deep in his balls and in his gut. He looked down on his junkie who had his eyes closed and whose lips were stretched prettily around his mostly still soft cock. 

Neil’s lax shoulders told Andrew that he really this, that it wasn’t a passing fancy but a need . Andrew ran his fingers through the soft, auburn curls, feeling a gentle hum travel along the skin of his length. 

By the time he parked the car in the driveway, he was unsure if Neil had dozed off or if he’d simply floated. He cut the engine, and spoke. “Neil. Let go. Come back to me.”

Neil stirred and Andrew tried not to, but it was a lot to ask for when Neil swallowed, constricting the muscles of his mouth and throat, and when he tightened his lips around the base of  Andrew’s now semi-hard cock. He lifted his head and pulled off. 

When Neil sat up straight, his eyes were dazed and veiled, and he asked, “Andrew?”

“We’re back home. It’s almost five in the afternoon.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Do you need my help getting inside the house?”

Neil came alive with thought. “No. I’m good. You shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s my turn taking care of you, okay? We can talk more once we’re inside.”

Neil looked at Andrew with sudden panic in his eyes. “I still want you. I still want it.”

“And it’s yours, love. We just need to get inside and see what you need from me.”

“Anything,” Neil whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

Years later, the word anything still made Andrew feel warm all over from the sheer amount of trust it implied. “It’s yours,” he repeated, unbuckling his own seatbelt. 

They walked up the front steps side by side. Andrew got them inside, and without asking him to, Neil climbed the stairs and went into their bedroom — it was exactly where Andrew wanted his junkie. 

He followed him, dropping the picnic bag on the floor at the foot of the stairs. “Go take a shower. Be thorough,” he told Neil once inside the bedroom as well. “I’ll put the picnic stuff away. Okay?”

Neil nodded before padding out of the bedroom, across the hallway, and into the bathroom. Andrew used the time to do as he’d said, washing the dishes and throwing out their waste. 

Afterwards, he went back upstairs and found his junkie standing in his underwear in the smack middle of their room. God, he was gorgeous. But he also looked lost, and it broke Andrew’s heart. He walked over and placed a hand over Neil’s heart, feeling the thumps and flutters. 

“Andrew?” Neil said. “I meant it. I’m yours to do as you want with.” He looked a little to the left of Andrew’s head. To their chest of drawers. To where their toys and restraints were hidden away. Then he looked to the other side of Andrew’s head. 

Andrew turned and saw the collar on the bedside table where Neil had left it that morning, ready for use. It had been placed there for Andrew to wear, but Neil needed it more. “You still want me to take charge?” 

Neil nodded. He bit his lip, hard, leaving indentations in the flesh, and said, “But I completely understand if you don’t want to. This is supposed to be your weekend after all.”

“Our weekend,” Andrew corrected gently. Looking at Neil in his underwear, fresh from the shower, needing something only Andrew could give him, gave Andrew a different kind of rush he hadn’t expected to feel that very Sunday. 

“Will you kneel for me?”

“You know I will.”

“Even now?”

“Yes.”

“Without knowing what I have planned?”

“Yes.” Neil assured him. He got on his knees silently. “I know I’m safe with you. I know you’ll stop if I say so. My safewords are red and axe for stop, and yellow for pause. My limits for now in addition to my usual ones are pain, denial, heavy impact. No penetration.”

“Oral? Anal? Or both?”

“Anal.” 

“Toys too?”

“Nothing too deep.”

Andrew nodded. He could work with that. He could absolutely work with that. “You just need me to take care of you and treat you well? Isn’t that right?”

“With an edge.”

“I’ve got you. Bow your head. Show me who’s in charge.”

Neil bowed his head and put his hands in his lap, the perfect picture of submission and obedience. 

With a pleased smile, Andrew grabbed a fistful of auburn curls and pulled. “Get on your feet,” he ordered, fingers still holding onto hair. “So good,” he praised when Neil stood again. “Come with me.” Andrew dragged Neil over to their bed by his hair. “I’ll collar you and then you’ll get on our bed and spread your arms and legs wide so I can tie them apart to the bedposts.”

The hitch in Neil’s breathing was delectable. A rush of adrenaline and power. 

Andrew put the collar around Neil’s neck, tracing it from lock to lock, a perfect loop, relishing the feel of leather and of Neil swallowing deeply so the collar bobbed up and down. “On the bed. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

With a polite nod, Neil got into bed and into position. He was a starfish, almost entirely naked and prone, the muscles in his thighs taking up most of Andrew’s attention. 

Andrew allowed himself an unabashed moment of staring at said muscles before climbing into bed as well, clothed. He removed Neil’s underwear without asking for permission, knowing Neil would say no if he didn’t want them off. He knew it the moment Neil became aware of his nudity when he gasped and ever so minutely bucked his hips up. Andrew tsked at him placatingly and Neil put his ass back down on the mattress. 

Then Andrew straddled his waist, the feeling of Neil’s soft cock cradled against his backside. “Are you ready, gorgeous?” he bent down to whisper into Neil’s ear, dark and sultry. When Neil nodded, he added before climbing off and getting the silks, “I’ll tell you what I have planned as I go along, and you’ll tell me yes or no, okay?”

“Yes,” Neil agreed, the blue in his eyes but a halo around the black pupils. “I trust you.” He tracked Andrew’s journey from the bed to their stash of silk ropes in one of their drawers. 

“I will listen and respect your nos. You are as much in charge in this scene as I am. If you become non verbal, we will stop, and I will give you aftercare. We’ll use the stop light system and your safeword, but we’ll also use plainspeak. Don’t be afraid to use your words, you will not be punished for speaking. If anything feels off, tell me. If you want to stop, tell me. When I ask you questions, you will answer them.”

“Always,” Neil agreed again. 

Andrew removed black silks from the drawer — the same ones from which his blindfold early that morning had been cut from — and tested their sturdiness and give. He was pleased. Back by the bed he kissed his way from the crook of Neil’s right elbow to the wrist, then bound it to the bed’s leg. He paid equal attention to his other arm. 

However, he proceeded in backwards fashion with his legs: bound them first, then kissed his way from the ankle to where his thighs met his hips. Watching carefully, Andrew saw his junkie’s dick twitch and fill with blood. This pleased him also; it would make everything better. 

“You can thrash all you want and not get free,” Andrew said when he was done with the knots and Neil was firmly kept in place. “You’re mine like this. Only your words will get you free.” He took off his t-shirt and folded it teasingly slowly to let Neil’s anticipation build. 

“I’m going to flog you,” he explained after Neil had whined Andrew in a pained and frustrated voice. When Neil’s eyes bulged, he hurried to add, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. You said no to heavy impact and I’m going to respect that. The tail ends are only going to tease your body. That’s all.”

“Yes,” Neil replied, relaxing back into the restraints. 

Andrew quickly got the flogger from their closet. It wasn’t Neil’s favorite, but Andrew liked it because the balance was a little off kilter and the tails soft. 

He tested his wrist movement with a couple of practice flicks with the flogger. The tails flew through the air flawlessly. When Neil’s chest started rising and falling faster and when his eyes squinted, Andrew said gently, “This isn’t punishment. You need me and I’m here for you.” The words made Neil relax once more. “I won’t hurt you,” he reiterated. 

He let the tails soar through the air again, and they landed with a muted thud in the middle of Neil’s chest. Neil gasped in surprise then whimpered when Andrew let the ends travel down his bound body like two dozen simultaneous caresses. 

He rained his soft blows all over Neil’s chest, stomach, and thighs, and when the striker had gotten rock hard, he landed several on his cock and balls. None of them hard enough to ignite pain. “All done,” he said at the end, bringing his junkie’s attention back on him. “I want to plug you with the fox one you used on me yesterday.”

Neil’s mouth opened but it took him a couple of seconds before he said, “Yes. I want that too.”

Prepping Neil’s hole for the toy was done with loving care, and Andrew enjoyed playing with his prostate for a bit. By the time he pushed the plug in and angled it perfectly, Neil was loose and his ass sucked it right in until the flat base lay nestled between his cheeks. 

Andrew almost, almost, wanted to get even and tap out the PSU Foxes fight song, but he refused to stoop that low; he pressed his tongue against the base instead, and licked from it to Neil’s balls, and further up from the root to the tip of his drooling dick. 

Neil fought against the restraints that were pinning him down, but there wasn’t the shadow or the whisper of a safeword. 

“I’m going to get our magic wand and place it right here,” Andrew told Neil, pressing two fingers where the vein began just below the cockhead. “And you’ll come from that or not at all. If it takes hours” — he knew it wouldn’t, Neil was very responsive to that particular device — “I will be here every minute of it. I’m going nowhere. I’m right here with you.”

Neil was still present enough to breathe out an enthusiastic, “Yes.”

“Good. Don’t move,” Andrew joked, getting off the bed to fetch the last toy of the day. 

Neil snorted at that. Fifteen minutes later, however, he was far less cocky when he cried out, and shook, and curled his toes, and heaved for air when he came from the intense vibrations to the single spot on his body. 

Andrew instantly pulled the wand away, unwilling to cause any discomfort through overstimulation, and he kissed his junkie’s thigh. Slowly, and with Neil’s consent, he pulled the plug out of his ass. 

When he looked into Neil’s eyes they were veiled in a clearer, healthier way, and Neil whispered, “I love you,” before drifting off. 

Chapter Text

“He called me sir,” Andrew told Bee in her office a few days into the week. 

He was pacing, because the situation warranted more than just idly sitting about, not that his nerves would allow him to anyway. 

“And that made you feel.”

Andrew loved Bee and the way she phrased her not-questions. That made you feel, not what did it make you feel? “Yes,” he admitted, knowing that the what was entirely up to him to choose to answer or not. “I’m not sure I liked it.”

“You’re not sure?”

Okay, sometimes Andrew hated Bee too. How was he supposed to respond to that? “I don’t want to be a sir. We’re equal, even in scenes. I feel like that would change it.”

“What if Neil asked this of you?”

Damn her. She knew Andrew would stop at nothing to give his junkie what he wanted and needed. “I would do it. And I will grow to accept it.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe even to like it? Who the fuck knows.”

“At the expense of your own comfort?”

He stopped his pacing to stand by Bee’s desk where the glass animals he had given her over the years were arranged. “Always,” he said truthfully. 

Bee sighed. “Andrew, you’ve come a long way. Will you allow the you from five years ago the right to see where you are now?”

That was a weird request. He couldn’t go back in time. Not physically. In his imagination though… “What good would that do?”

“To give younger you more grace.”

“I’m graduating soon,” Andrew blurted out, deviating. The thought was an ever present looming fact that poisoned his mind and was only eclipsed in moments of submission and domination; in those moments, everything narrowed down to Neil, and only Neil, no matter if he was subbing or domming. The thought of being away from Neil, from this man he had fallen in love with and given a ring on a chain to, of being away from their moments of respite, was devastating. To say the least. 

Heartbreaking was perhaps a better term. 

“We’ve worked towards this moment, Andrew.”

 “Really fucking soon, Bee. Only weeks,” he snapped, his feelings and fears getting the better of him in a way they rarely did. 

“Andrew, breathe.”

Andrew did. He tried to. But something was stuck in his throat, and it was slowly dropping down into his lungs like an ice-cold river cascading down a mountain in a wild torrent of angrily frothing water. 

“Andrew,” Bee called to him. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said as soon as she had Andrew’s eyes. “I’m only a phone call away. And you told me that you and Neil have discussed the logistics of the distance and that he’s not going anywhere either. You saw his reaction to your ring — that’s the only truth you need to hold onto,” she reminded him gently.

It was an important reminder, one Andrew needed to hear. He sat down on the couch, in the spot he had chosen as his own five years earlier, the spot he had never strayed from. He plopped down to listen. 

Bee read his expression and she flipped through the pages of her A4 notebook, going back pages and pages, sessions and sessions. When she found what she was searching for, she looked up at Andrew before reading her own notes. She spent a large number of minutes rehashing things Andrew remembered all too well, coming to the conclusion that it was normal to feel scared but that he was in a good place and that he would face the distance with Neil knowing they were solid. 

At the end of her speech, Andrew said, “I want to give him something.”

“And what is that?”

Andrew steeled himself to say it — funnily enough, it never got any easier. “I want to give him a scene.”

Bee never made it awkward. “Yes?”

“I mentioned something. Weeks ago. Something that came to me in another scene. A fantasy. A fucked-up one. I shared it with him and he told me he wants to do it. It just — I don’t know. I —” it was difficult speaking the actual words. 

“Maybe saying it out loud will help you?”

“It’s with the cane.”

Bee nodded. “You’ve caned him before. Successfully,” she said encouragingly. 

Andrew’s mood darkened. “It wouldn’t be for that.”

Bee waited patiently for Andrew to decide if he could say it or not. There wasn’t a twitch of impatience on her face. 

“I would be fucking him with it,” Andrew was eventually able to say. The words grated on his tongue, rough and raw, just like he supposed fucking Neil with a piece of wood would be like. 

Bee didn’t miss a beat. She never did. “Try it on yourself first. Remember what we talked about when we discussed solo kink exploration?” she asked without a hint of judgment. 

"Yes." Of course he remembered. He had tried autoerotic asphyxiation alone at first, wanting to have all the facts ready to present to Neil. He’d liked it so much that it had given him the courage to ask his junkie for it. 

Bee was on the same wavelength. “You tried the gag yourself first. And breathplay. This would be no different. You’ll get to know what Neil might feel when you do it to him.”

Andrew swallowed thickly. “What if I don’t like it?”

“You’ll tell Neil, and you’ll decide together.”

Andrew nodded. She was right. Of course she was. When had she not been? And with this knowledge, Andrew left his session with a plan in mind. Neil was still in class and he hurried back to Fox Tower. No one was in the suite, so he locked the door, double locked it, chain and all, then went into the bedroom. 

He opened their pants drawer and fished out the cane they hid in the folds of two pairs of jeans. He slashed it through the air to situate himself, then stopped because that wasn’t the purpose the cane would serve. 

Andrew locked the bedroom door too, for good measure, took his pants off, and got into bed. He grabbed the bottle of lube they had stashed between the mattress and the wall. 

With deep, calming breaths, and when too much time had passed (people would soon be out of class,) Andrew planted his feet firmly on the mattress. He bent his knees at an angle, and gritted his teeth in uncertain apprehension. Then he began the task of lubing the cane and his hole, opening himself up with a couple of fingers. Then he started inserting the cane up his ass. The moment of penetration felt intrinsically weird, though not uncomfortable per se. It was so thin, their cane, yet it scraped against every inch of the inside of his ass. He got it in a few inches and paused. He wasn’t sure he could continue, but at least he had felt on himself that it didn’t cause outright pain. 

He had gone into this solo exploration with the idea to poke his prostate, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He pulled the cane out slowly and dropped his legs down on the mattress in full as soon as it was out and tossed down on the floor. He felt only relief at being done with this particular activity. 

It hadn’t gotten him closer to making a decision, however, so he would have to trust Neil. Trust him to want it and trust him to say no when he no longer wanted it. 

After a couple of minutes, he got out of bed and picked the cane up from where it had landed. He unlocked the bedroom door, went into the bathroom to clean the cane, put it back into their drawer one dry, and got started on a pot of coffee before unlocking the suite door. 

To distract himself, he pointlessly started rereading his notes from his most boring class in preparation for the week of exams coming up. 

When Neil got back from his class, he took an leap of faith and told him they would be going to Columbia the next day to spend another weekend there together. 

“We can do a scene tomorrow night,” he suggested. 

Neil smiled his lazy smile that meant he was very much on board with the plan. Then his pupils dilated exponentially when Andrew mentioned bringing their most sturdy cane. 

The next day, at four o’clock, Andrew knocked on Bee’s door during her open door hours. She didn’t have anyone in session and so invited him in immediately and got started on two cold cocoa drinks for them. 

“I’m taking Neil to Columbia tonight. I’ve decided to do it,” Andrew announced as soon as they were both comfortably seated. 

“Are you sure of this?”

“I tried it on myself,” Andrew spoke quietly, an admission he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. The presence of cold chocolate milk in his mouth helped a little. 

“And?” 

“It wasn’t enjoyable.”

“Andrew. Have you tried giving yourself a head massage? Those never feel the same as when someone else is giving them.”

“Your point being?” He knew the point. 

“There was every bit the risk you wouldn’t like it because it was you doing it. It will be different tonight with Neil.” 

“That’s not exactly a valid argument. Because I can make myself feel as good with a toy as Neil can when he fucks me.”

“Is that so?” Bee challenged with that raised eyebrow of hers. “I’m sure it feels physically pleasurable. But what about emotionally? Is it the same?” 

She got him there and he shook his head because of course it wasn’t the same. Sex with Neil was a full bodied experience, whereas masturbation was narrowed down to only his dick and ass. “What if I hurt him?” This would never stop being Andrew’s number one fear. “What if I cause him too much pain?”

Bee must have read the anxiety in him, because she leaned forward in his armchair and placed her mug on the coffee table between them. “Andrew,” she said seriously. “When is pain not the good kind?”

Andrew thought about it. “When it becomes a distraction and not an enhancer. When it doesn’t lead to pleasure.”

“Good. That’s your definition. You know it’s the same for Neil. And it’s why you have safewords. You’re both good at using them,” Bee told him. “Tell me what I have told you about pain and pleasure.”

Andrew took a deep breath. “Pleasure and pain originate in the same neurons in the amygdala. There is therefore little distance between the two, and some people get off on pain the same way they get off on pleasure.”

Bee nodded and leaned back in her chair with her mug back in her hand. “Do you trust Neil?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust him to tell you when it becomes the bad sort of pain?”

“Yes.”

“Pain is different for everyone. It’s not wrong to mix it with pleasure the way it sounds Neil likes it.  But do it only if you are comfortable, Andrew, if you want it too.”

“I know,” Andrew agreed. Hearing it out loud helped. “I do.” For Neil, he wanted everything. 

With a genuinely bright smile, Bee concluded with an easy, “Okay then.”

Andrew carried on. There was more on his mind that needed an outlet. “I think I know the answer,” Andrew said. He had been thinking of something during a sleepless couple of hours, lying next to Neil who had been breathing deeply in his sleep. “For the scene.”

“Tell me,” Bee asked him, and Andrew marveled at how comfortable and professional she was being with all this. 

“I want to do this for him. But I also want to do something for me.”

“That sounds fair. Have you told him this?”

“Wanted to run it by you first. Se what saying it out loud would feel like,” he admitted. The look of pride and warmth in Bee’s eyes told him he never wanted her out of his life. 

“I’ll fuck him with the cane. And then I’ll fuck him with our flogger. We’ve mentioned it. Well, I have.”

Bee crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her armchair. “Okay? There is more though?”

How could she read him so well?

“I want him to come with the flogger’s knots inside him, and then I want to fuck him myself and drive him to oversensitivity. He likes that.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a plan,” Bee mused. 

Andrew agreed, relieved by her reaction. If Bee was cool with it, he could be too. He finished his drink, which was delicious and velvety, then thanked Bee. He left her office with one last thankfully nod. 

Walking through campus with the knowledge of what was to come later was, for once, extremely unnerving. Andrew looked around and felt ten kinds of exposed, knew no one was actually looking at him but sensed a million eyes on him anyway, and amid it all, The imagined blue eyes of Neil’s tried to reassure him — every instance of Neil looking at film flashed before him. You will stop when you want to stop , was Neil’s firm mantra. More than ever, Andrew hoped it was true. And I will tell you to stop if I want you to stop. 

In the suite, Neil was waiting for him, playing a game of Mario Kart with Robin. He paused the game and started to get out of the beanbag chair, but Andrew told him to keep playing, that he would get their things ready for them. 

In the bedroom, Andrew packed a clean set of clothes, the book he was reading, Neil’s study bag, their collar, the cane, and the orange flogger Neil liked best. Anything else they wanted to play with they had at the house as well — lube, cock rings, butt plugs, restraints, gags, all the small and easily hidden things. If they really got into the deep end, their spreader bar was at the house as well. 

In the car, an hour later, Andrew pulled off the highway and onto a picnic area. He reached behind him where the bag was on the backseat, pulling out the collar after his hand closed around the familiar leather and shape. He showed it to Neil. “I want to start the scene here. In the car. If you’re willing. I need you in your sub headspace when we get to the house,” he explained. 

Neil nodded and accepted the collar. “You know you don’t need a reason like that to collar me. I’ll wear it proudly because I want to.” He waited for the command to put in on himself, then leaned over the center console to kiss Andrew, hot and heavy, burning with need. 

“Are you sure?” Andrew asked against Neil’s lips. 

“I’m sure,” Neil spoke into Andrew’s mouth. 

Andrew swallowed it down and made it part of himself. He pulled back, slid a finger under the collar and crooked it. He tugged gently. “Get your dick out. We’re going to play a game. For now, just keep it out and exposed. Then, when I say so, you’ll start jerking yourself off. But , whenever we hit a red light, or a stop sign and I stop the car, you must remove your hand. No coming without my permission, which you don’t have.”

Neil’s eyes were dark and he nodded so prettily and so obediently that Andrew’s heart leapt into his throat. Neil unzipped his jeans and pulled his flaccid cock out of his underwear with a subdued hiss when the air conditioned air hit the exposed skin. 

Satisfied, Andrew pulled back out of the picnic area and zoomed down the highway towards Columbia. When they were only twenty minutes outside the city, Andrew left the highway to drive along smaller country roads with lots of stop signs. “Start touching yourself,” he ordered Neil. “Remember the rules?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“When the car stops, I stop pleasuring myself. And no coming.”

“Good job, handsome. What do you do if you need to stop or pause?”

“I say red or ax if I need to stop. And yellow if I need a break,” Neil recited dutifully. “I’m green, Andrew. I’m good.”

It was a relief. Andrew nodded and told Neil he was green as well. Then he told Neil to start, which Neil did. Soon, his junkie was rock hard, his cock slipping in and out of his palm, precum glistening in the early evening sunlight. He gasped brokenly every time the car stopped, and by the time they were in the city, he was a sweaty mess. 

Andrew observed him closely, and saw the yellow in his junkie’s eyes before Neil spoke it. 

“Yellow,” Neil said hoarsely. He was trembling in his seat. 

“Are you okay?” was out Andrew’s mouth in a heartbeat. 

“I want to continue. I don’t want to disobey. But,” Neil began saying. Andrew placed a hand in his neck to encourage him to finish his sentence. “But can I have something to cover myself with? There are a lot of people out.”

Andrew nodded, because of course he did. He removed the hoodie he was wearing and draped it over Neil’s lap. “Is this better?”

Neil grinned like a cat. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else?”

Neil shook his head and his hand started moving again when Andrew pressed down on the accelerator. More at ease, Neil started making soft sounds that went straight to Andrew’s half hard dick. It was going to be a long night for him. 

After parking in the driveway, Neil removed his hand from his length, again , and Andrew bent down to kiss the wet tip, sucking ever so gently. Neil arched off the seat and Andrew allowed for his cock to slide down his throat, just once . 

Neil made a pitiful whine when Andrew pulled back and he thrust up into empty air. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you inside and ready to be fucked by our cane.”

Hearing Neil choke on his own saliva was priceless. 

Up in their bedroom, Andrew undressed neil down to nothing. He looked at his junkies naked body with appreciation and waited long enough for his next command for Neil to be itching with need and excitement. “Kneel,” he eventually said. 

Neil dropped to his knees, fast. 

“Will you be my god sub tonight?”

“Yes,” Neil assured him, eyes filled with the obedient need to surrender. The play in the car had worked exactly the way Andrew had meant it to. Neil was in his sub headspace and it was a glorious thing to witness. 

They recited the safewords, slowly and with the promise to say them if things became too much. “Andrew, I’m yours to do with as you please. But I swear to you I will tell you to stop if I need you to stop.”

Andrew swallowed his saliva thickly. “Thank you. You have the power, Neil. Use it if you need to.”

“I know.”

It was the truth. Just one word from Neil and it would all be over. Andrew would respect it and not pry until Neil himself decided to open up about his safewording. 

“Get the handles on the bed ready. You’re going to hold onto them the entire time. If you let them go, we stop. Okay?”

“Yes,” Neil agreed. He went over to their closet and pulled out two handles that were designed to be clasped into the bed frame and extend across the mattress a few inches. Neil clicked them into place on his side of the bed, and went back to Andrew on the other side. 

“Good job. You’ll bend over and hold on tight. I’ll cane you first, before fucking you with it and rimming you at the same time. Yes or no?”

The hitch in Neil’s voice when he said yes told Andrew how excited and ready he was. 

“But first you’ll kiss me. I need to feel you.”

Neil didn’t smile condescendingly in the face of such an open admission — he would never — just crossed the space between them and kissed Andrew with all the gravitas the situation demanded, with all the longing and want Andrew needed to feel. Swept up in the moment, Andrew hoisted Neil up so Neil had no choice but to wrap his legs around him. Like this, with his junkie fully in his arms, he let himself go. He kissed Neil back, tongue and teeth and playfulness, then walked them over to the bed. He growled in delight when Neil’s hands went into his hair and pulled a little. 

Andrew lowered them down on the bed, delighting in the power imbalance between Neil’s completely naked body and his own clothed one. Neil arched into him when he landed on his back, and Andrew ground down, the roughness of denim undoubtedly scratching against Neil’s cock. 

Before getting too carried away, Andrew stood, leaving Neil on the bed. He looked at Neil, his junkie, his partner, his sub. And what he saw made him ache all over with love. He was being pulled forward by his heart in his chest, and he nearly let it guide him back down to lie on top of the striker. But he had other things to get through, so he said, "Turn around. Grab the handles. Feet on the floor. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Neil scrambled to obey and when he was in position, he was a sight for the gods. Ass in the air, feet on the ground, chest on the bed, and hands clutching steel. 

Andrew asked for Neil’s safewords one last time before getting the cane out of their bag. “What’s the first thing I’ll do to you?” He let the tip of the wooden device caress the backs of Neil’s thighs slowly. 

When he poked the back of Neil’s balls, Neil gasped and said with some difficulty, “You’ll hit me with the cane first.”

Andrew’s heart leaped into his throat again where it pounded painfully before dropping back down in his chest where it belonged like a stone tossed down a bottomless well. “I need you to give me a number from 1 to 10, one being minimum pain we’ve discussed and agreed and ten being the maximum we’ve discussed and agreed.”

There was a moment of thought before Neil said, “Six.” It was lower than Andrew had expected and his heart lightened a bit, didn’t beat so insistently against his ribs.

Six meant marks that would fade relatively quickly. Six meant pain in the moment that wouldn’t linger after the scene. Six, with the cane, meant light welts that would die out within hours. Six meant Neil would be able to sit on his ass the next day without wincing. Six — Andrew could do six. “How many do you want?” he eventually asked. 

“Ten. Five on each side. Two on my ass, three on my thighs.” 

“That’s good,” Andrew said. “Thank you for telling me. Now don’t squirm too much. I don’t want to miss-hit. And what about the handles?”

“I have to hold onto them the whole while or you end the scene,” Neil said. 

“Color?”

“Green.”

Andrew didn’t give Neil the time to think, just let the cane fly through the air and connect to his left ass cheek in a perfectly horizontal line. Blood bloomed to the surface instantly. It was a perfect hit and Neil cried out, more in surprise than pain — Andrew knew what Neil sounded like when he was feeling pain. 

Ten hits later, Neil was a mess of tears and broken cries. But not once had he come near safewording. Not even when Andrew had asked deliberately for a color. It had been an enthusiastic green. 

“Are you ready to get fucked?” Andrew asked his junkie, leaning over his back, making sure the denim of his jeans was putting pressure on the marks the cane had left behind. “By the cane,” he added for emphasis, tapping Neil’s hole with the end of the device the moment he stood again. 

“Yes, god yes,” Neil pleaded. He was rock hard, his balls hanging heavy between his legs. Andrew tapped them with the cane. 

As soon as Andrew had lubed the cane generously, he assumed position behind Neil. The striker’s pucker was winking at him in anticipation, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. 

Andrew put the tip right in the middle if the ring of muscles. 

There was a hiss. 

There was a shiver. 

There was movement that told Andrew how much Neil struggled to keep a hold on the handles. 

And then there was the give of the first sphincter of Neil’s ass. Just a little. It was enough. The cane went in smoothly — it wasn’t big after all, thinner than Andrew’s little finger — and kept going in until Andrew stopped after approximately three inches. 

“Neil?” He asked. 

“You’re good. It’s — good. Weird. Keep going.”

Andrew kept going, pushing the cane in and wishing in the back of his mind that it was his finger or his dick going up Neil’s ass. He fucked the cane in and out slowly a few times to get his junkie acclimated. 

Then —

Neil gave a full bodied quake. 

“There?” Andrew asked. If he had located Neil’s prostate, then he would be more at ease. 

“Maybe?” Neil answered very uncertainly. “It’s not. It’s not. Not big enough.” 

He was right at that. It was pathetic how thin the cane was. But then Andrew allowed himself a moment to watch the scene, and, well, he suddenly saw the appeal. His junkie was being fucked by a strip of wood, and when he let go of said wood, which he did out of curiosity, it remained where it was. It wasn’t heavy enough for gravity to latch onto it one way or the other. Neil’s body wasn’t sucking it in, and the floor wasn’t pulling it down. He took a step back and looked, and Neil sighed. 

“Andrew,” he complained. 

“Stop talking, I’m admiring you.”

Neil buried his face in the mattress. And for that, for wanting to escape Andrew’s praise and love, he flicked the cane, which made Neil yelp, bordering on shouting, and Andrew’s cock twitched for attention. Not yet, he told himself sternly. 

Andrew kissed the reddened welts on Neil’s ass, a redness turning more pink than crimson, then went lower and kissed the perfectly horizontal lines one by one. Each press of lips poured a gasp and mewl from his junkie’s mouth. 

Pain is different for everyone. It’s not wrong to mix it with pleasure the way it sounds Neil wants. 

But do it only if you are comfortable, Andrew, if you want it too. 

Andrew wanted it. Once in the scene and getting properly in the headspace, oh god he wanted it. And his junkie gave himself over with unhitherto ease and grace. 

He ran his hands from where his lips had just been, up Neil’s muscled back, muscles that were too relaxed to really be felt, up the back of his neck, to crown of his head. “I’m going to stick my tongue right alongside the cane, deep inside your ass, and you’re going to like it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Neil moaned without shame. 

Andrew removed his hand from Neil’s hair and lowered himself to his knees behind him. He licked sloppily from the back of Neil’s balls up his crack to where the cane was spearing him. Eventually, he coaxed Neil’s hole loose enough to breach him with his tongue. 

It was a steady rise in the sounds Neil made from there. Andrew knew Neil could come untouched, unlike himself most of the time, from just being eaten out. So he removed his tongue from Neil’s ass before it was too late. He pulled the cane out slowly and presented it to Neil. “Clean it up,” he ordered. 

Neil shook and he licked the cherry flavored lube off the wooden device until it was clean. 

“Good boy. Now come with me, we’re going downstairs for the rest of the scene. Let go of the handles,” Andrew commanded. He yanked on Neil’s hair and forced him into an upright position. He then yanked on it some more and dragged him over to the door, grabbing their lube and the flogger from his bag on the way. 

Chapter Text

Andrew dragged Neil down the stairs to the living room and stopped them next to the couch.

“On your knees. Eyes on me.”

Neil got on his knees, slower this time, his eyes never leaving Andrew’s. There was curiosity in them — he wasn’t a fool; Andrew hadn’t expected him to be. 

Clearing his throat to make sure his next words were clear and concise, he prepared himself mentally to speak what he’d made up his mind about in the car where Neil had first said it during their last scene. “Neil? Do you need me to be your sir?” His heart stopped beating in his chest before drumming away forcefully, pressing against his lungs and ribs in turn. 

Redness spread along his junkie’s cheeks in embarrassment. Andrew saw it clear as day and instantly asked, “Color?”

Neil hesitated for a while, silent. Then, “Green.”

Andrew wasn’t sure why he had hoped for another color, knowing he had the power to say red if he was red. Was he red? He didn’t think he was, just nervous. Apprehensive. “Then answer my question,” he ordered instead. 

“I’m not sure why I said it,” Neil admitted earnestly. 

“That’s not the answer to my question.”

Neil looked down. 

Andrew couldn’t have that. “Eyes on me,” he reminded Neil. 

Looking up, Neil answered. “I don’t know if I need you to be my sir. You're my dom and that’s enough. But, maybe sometimes?”

“Is that a question?”

“Can we talk about it outside the scene?” Neil said it shyly. 

“Yes. Last question: do you need me to be your sir for the rest of this scene?”

The answer came quickly. “No. This is perfect.”

Andrew wanted to sigh in relief, but he kept himself in check. They would talk about it later. Maybe over dinner like they usually did. That sounded good. “Stand,” he commanded. Neil stood fluidly. “Kiss me. Like you mean it. Don’t hold back.”

“I never hold back,” Neil whispered. Andrew could have died. “And I always mean it.”

The kiss was exactly what Andrew needed — all Neil. Neil the man, not Neil the sub. The man Andrew had recruited in Millport while he was wearing fake eyes and hair color. The man Andrew had drugged and threatened and toyed with for his own amusement and for Kevin’s safety. The man he had, despite his best efforts, found interesting and later fallen in love with. The man he would burn the world down for. The man he had apologized to for all his wrongdoings. The man he submitted to because he trusted him. The man he dommed because Neil needed it. 

The kiss was deep and heady, and Andrew gripped Neil’s hair to pull his head back before it was too late. “You’re going to bend over the arm of the couch,” he whispered sweetly into Neil’s ear when their lips parted. “And I’m going to flog you. You will not make a sound unless it’s too safeword. Is that understood?”

Neil swallowed thickly, the bob of his Adam’s apple loud. “Yes,” he agreed. “Green,” he said, his eyes blacker than a starless night. 

“Get in position.” 

Neil draped himself over the arm of the couch, exposing his back and ass.

“But first let me treat the marks from the cane,” he said. “Stay where you are. Do not move, hear me?”

Neil nodded and he hadn’t moved an inch when Andrew came back from the kitchen where they had a bottle of arnica gel. He crouched down, put the flogger down on the floor next to him, and rubbed the thick liquid against the marks. He rubbed and rubbed it into the skin carefully. Neil sighed with every touch of his fingers.

Satisfied, Andrew stood up again and grabbed the flogger.

Neil didn’t make a single sound as the tails flew through the air and connected with his back. Quite the contrary, he went eerily quiet, slipping, slipping. Ten lashes later, none of which had connected with Neil’s ass or thighs where the cane had rained down, Andrew tossed the device over to the couch where it landed perfectly on the faraway armrest. “Back on your knees at my feet, junkie,” Andrew said, not one hundred percent able to look away from the redness of the lashes, but he needed to make sure Neil knew he was still stunning, that nothing on his body could ever make him ugly.

Neil slowly unbent himself from over the armrest and, on slightly wobbly legs, lowered himself to his knees to be in the position he had started the evening in. He was a good sub, so gorgeous naked with just their collar on, and his gaze was a little vacant, though not so much he wasn’t there anymore.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

Neil opened his mouth, eyes alight with wildness all of a sudden, and he stuck his tongue out as far as it would go. Andrew caressed it first with two of his fingers, feeling its rough texture and wetness. He wanted to slide them further down, all the way to the base of Neil’s tongue, wanted to feel the organ quiver and struggle to stay stuck outside his mouth. He wasn’t going to indulge in that little fantasy, however, they hadn’t discussed it prior to the scene.

“Brace your hands on my thighs and then don’t move them. Unless you need me to back off, then you push, okay? You won’t be able to speak so that will be your safety sign,” Andrew said instead, removing his fingers to allow Neil the chance to speak, to agree or disagree.

“Yes,” Neil said, voice low and gone. He had pulled his tongue back into his mouth and now swallowed a couple of times to get it wet again with saliva. He placed his hands flat on Andrew’s legs with no pressure other than the light contact of his palms to denim.

Relived, Andrew told Neil to open wide again, then popped the button on his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He took his hard cock out, hissing under his breath at both the chilled living room air against his skin and the touch, a much-needed touch if he was being honest, to his flesh. He gave his dick a couple of strokes to alleviate the worst and give himself a chance to last. There was a large bead or precum gathered in the valley of his piss slit and he rubbed it off on Neil’s lips. “Are you ready?” he asked. “You are not to suck, you are not to lick or do anything. Just hold my dick in your mouth, and when I deem you ready, we’ll move this over to the couch.”

Neil nodded, a visible shiver passing through his kneeling body; yeah, he knew what awaited him on the couch and this one bodily response was enough for Andrew to know he wasn’t going too far. Gently, he fed Neil his cock until it was almost halfway in his mouth. He paused to get used to the sudden onslaught of heat, gripping the base of his cock a little harshly, then pushed further in so two thirds of his dick disappeared. He closed his eyes and fought the animalist instinct in him that demanded that he move, that he thrust as far back Neil’s throat till the head was stuck, unable to reach further.

After a good ten seconds of breathing shallowly, Andrew took a couple of deep breaths, filling his lungs and his stomach. He released the air again and smiled at Neil. “Eyes on me. Don’t you dare look anywhere else,” he told Neil with sweetness in his voice. He cupped Neil’s cheek with his right hand and carded the fingers of his left one through his messy curls. “You’re beautiful like this,” he began. “So amazing on your knees for me with your lips stretched prettily around my dick. I cannot tell you how much I love you – and not just like this. I love you in all ways, in everything that you do and everything that you say. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. I will cherish you and care for you, the same way you cherish and care for me. I don’t want to change a thing about you.”

Neil clearly struggled with keeping his eyes locked on Andrew, fighting his own, bone-deep instinct to turn his head away and hide from the praise. Andrew couldn’t fault him entirely – he himself also struggled with being complimented, mainly outside of scenes – but his chest swelled with pride when Neil dutifully stayed still.

“You’re stunning. Nothing about you is wrong or ugly. I’ve loved looking at you since day one, Neil. Even when you were in your disguise I saw you, and I’ve never looked away.”

Neil whimpered at that, the vibrations carrying up Andrew’s shaft and settling low in his belly. He started rubbing random patterns against Neil’s scalp just to get his mind to focus on something else. Coming now was out of the question and would ruin the last part of the scene, the one part Neil’s eyes had darkened fully at when negotiating the evening’s order of business. When the feeling in his gut travelled down into his balls with a growing fire of desire, Andrew said, “Just a few more seconds and then you can get up.” With immense concentration, he pushed his cock all the way in while keeping his eyes on the face of his sub.

With an obscene pop, Andrew finally pulled out and he sighed with relief. He squeezed the base of his dick one more time, holding on. He stroked Neil’s cheekbone with his thumb a few times to ground his sub with a gentle touch. “Good boy. You took me so well.” He then removed his hand and tugged on Neil’s hair. “Get up.” The gentleness in his voice was gone.

Neil had no choice but to follow Andrew’s command and he stood, face to face, then chest to chest when Andrew took the one step separating them, and his hard, leaking cock rubbed against Andrew.

“Come with me. We’re going over to the couch.”

Together, Andrew guiding Neil with his hand still in his hair, they walked over to the couch. Andrew released Neil, got naked, and laid down first, pushing his back against the cushions, making room for Neil. Neil lay down next to him, his own back pressed to Andrew’s chest. Like this, Andrew parted Neil’s ass cheeks so his cock could rest snuggly in his crack.

Andrew kissed Neil’s neck at the base of his skull, and Neil whimpered. It was sweet music Andrew wanted to hear again, and again. Several kisses later, he brought his hand to Neil’s chest and found one nipple, which he pinched to get it hard. Neil moaned again, louder and more frantic.

He continued to play with Neil’s nippled for a while, wishing he could bite into them, offering the sting of teeth.

When the time came, when Andrew knew by the sounds Neil made that he had reached Neil’s edge of too much, he grabbed the flogger he had put so conveniently on the armrest at his head. He let the tails trail down Neil’s back who shivered. “Neil?” he asked, bringing the striker back to the present moment. “Tell me what it is I am going to do to you, and then tell me if you still want it.” He kissed Neil’s left shoulder, letting his lips linger a moment.

“You’re going to fuck me with the handle of the flogger.”

“And why?” He arched an eyebrow even though Neil couldn’t see him.

“Because you mentioned weeks back that you wanted to see the first knot enter me. You want to pleasure my prostate and when I’m ready to come, you want to push the second knot in, forcing an orgasm out of me,” Neil recited. They had talked about it several times since Andrew had shared the fantasy for the first time, going over the pros and cons and assessing. They had waited for the perfect time, which was now.

“And do you want it still?” Andrew asked into Neil’s hair. “If you don’t want it, I won’t get mad. I’ll get you off and then fuck you like we’ve also got planned.”

Neil turned his head just enough so he could look at Andrew with his blue eyes gone dark. “Andrew, I want it.” There wasn’t an ounce of doubt or shame in his voice, just determination and submission.

“Hand me the lube, will you?” Andrew requested, phrasing it as a question to give Neil one last chance to pull out of this part of the scene. He gripped Neil’s waist to keep him from falling off the couch when Neil leaned over to reach their lube lying on the coffee table. “I won’t hurt you. I expect you to tell me if it starts to become painful. Can you do that, babe?”

Neil nodded, twisting his head further and nuzzling into the base of Andrew’s throat. “I promise.”

Neil’s promises were ironclad, so Andrew was in the clear as he slicked the handle of the flogger generously, coating it not once but three times. Was it overkill? Maybe, but over his dead body would Neil get hurt by being fucked by the flogger. He then flattened the loop against the handle and slowly began the task of inserting the first knot. It stretched Neil’s rim beautifully and Andrew went torturously slow. So far, nothing more than a thin cane and Andrew’s tongue had breached him, and the knot was decidedly thicker than those two combined. “Fuck,” Neil muttered. It was muffled and Andrew wondered if he was biting the throw pillow.

“Let me hear you,” Andrew admonished softly. “Do no hide yourself from me.” How many times would he have to instill that notion into Neil’s mind?

The knot finally went in and Neil’s sphincter closed around the handle behind it. “Lift your leg for me,” Andrew told him. The angle wasn’t right like this and his wrist would cramp too fast. Neil lifted his leg and placed his foot on top of the couch’s back cushion, opening himself up to his fate.

Andrew’s eyes were zeroed in on the flogger, his breath hitching when he thrust one more inch inside Neil’s ass. Neil gasped and groaned and went limp, more submission creeping into every limb of his body. He was taking it so well already.

After a while of shallow thrusts, Andrew pressed more of the thinner part of the handle in. Neil’s body convulsed and his head shot up from the pillow. Gently, Andrew pushed it back down again. Soft moans escaped Neil’s lips when Andrew pulled the flogger out enough for the knot to catch on Neil’s rim from the inside. “Shit,” Neil breathed. “This feels –”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You have no idea.”

“Then lie still and take it.” Andrew continued to fuck him, speeding gradually up, and when Neil’s hole was lax enough, he started a punishing rate. Every now and again he let the knot slip out entirely before shoving it back in. “Touch yourself, Neil.”

It was funny how fast Neil obeyed the order. He stripped himself, shaking his body with the push and pull of his hand, and when he was close, he told Andrew like they had agreed he would beforehand.

“Tell me what I am doing to you,” Andrew demanded, determined to enjoy Neil’s smart mouth to the fullest. His own time in the sun was coming soon, and words got his cock rock hard and pulsing.

“You’re fucking me, with our flogger, you’re fucking me with the first knot.”

“Which flogger am I using?”

“The orange one. My favorite.”

Andrew laughed quietly. “And why is it your favorite? Tell me while you slow your hand down.”

Neil groaned in protest, but Andrew didn’t care. He slowed down the motion of his own hand holding the flogger.

“Because it’s orange,” Neil admitted. “Because it’s the color of the Foxes. My home. And because it was a gift from you.”

Damn – a new fantasy came to Andrew. That wouldn’t do. He had to focus on what was already going on in front of him, not let his mind wander. But it was difficult. He was already using one object, what was the stop Neil from wishing to explore that further? Hearing the striker talk about the flogger reminding him of being a Fox gave Andrew a delicious idea on how he could make sure Neil felt even more connected to his home.

“Alright then, carry on at your previous pace. I’m going to fuck that orgasm out of you now.”

He felt it when Neil’s hand picked up its pace and just when he was giving Andrew one last warning, Andrew pressed the second knot into Neil, making sure it was shoved right against his prostate. Neil came from the dual stimulation. Andrew didn’t stop thrusting the entire handle, even when Neil started writhing in slight discomfort. They had talked about this too.

Only a safeword would bring this to a stop.

Eventually, he slowly pulled the flogger out, carefully this time with the knots. He was in awe both times Neil’s rim stretched and unstretched.

“My turn,” he warned Neil as soon as he dropped the flogger down on the floor. He collected some of the excess lube from Neil’s ass crack and coated his own cock with it. “On your stomach, handsome.”

Neil pulled his leg down from the top of the couch and after some clumsy maneuvering he had his face smushed in the throw pillow and his ass raised a couple of inches. He was undoubtedly dirtying the couch with the cum on his chest, but that hardly mattered; Andrew would wash the fabric thoroughly later.

He slapped Neil’s ass and without preamble entered him. It didn’t take long for his own orgasm to bowl through him and consume every inch of his brain. Neil was panting below him from the overstimulation and Andrew hooked his fingers under the leather of the collar hugging Neil’s neck snugly and pulled, thrusting in one last time and stilling deep inside his sub. He came and shot his load.

Afterwards, he slumped and rested his forehead between Neil’s shoulder blades, panting just as hard as the man underneath him. “Neil?” he asked when he had enough brain power to think. “Neil?” he repeated when Neil didn’t immediately answer.

“Yes?” Neil said shakily.

“Are you okay?” Andrew knew he had put Neil through a lot during the scene and he absolutely needed to make sure.

“Oh yeah,” Neil assured him. His voice was a little unsteady, but that was to be expected. His whole body was relaxed and limp, and Andrew loved him like that.

Still – “Are you with me?”

“Yes.”

Andrew lifted himself up on his hands and began the careful task of pulling out. Lube was everywhere and his cum dripped out of the striker in a sticky mess. As soon as he was free and his cock was going down, he unbuckled the collar and removed it from Neil’s neck.

They were back to just Andrew and Neil.

Neil turned around, flopping down on his back with the smuggest grin in the world. “I think that was the best orgasm in a while.”

That made Andrew laugh. “I’m glad.” He pulled Neil into a sitting position and hugged him, circling his arms around him, uncaring about the sweat and cum, just needing to hold his junkie close and never let go. He only realized he was shaking when Neil pointed it out. The comedown from his dom high was a little rough, but that was okay, it was worth the smile on Neil’s face.

For a while they stayed like that, until Andrew’s shakings died down to tiny shivers. They both needed a shower, and food, and comfort. Up in the bathroom, Andrew washed Neil, scooping out the rest of his cum from his ass and inspecting the redness of his backside. It was pink at best.

After dinner they went to bed; the mess in the living room could wait till the next day.

Snuggled under the duvet and lying comfortably together as one, Neil raised his head from where it was resting on Andrew’s chest. “Andrew?”

“Mmmm?” Andrew replied, his lips pressed into Neil’s curls where he often found himself after a scene.

Neil shifted in his position and turned slowly so they were chest to chest. His eyes were soft and loving, cut like ice but melting in the face of Andrew. His right hand came up to card through Andrew’s hair and Andrew had missed this. “What do you need?”

The one-eighty took Andrew a while to process. “What?” was the only sensible word that came out of his mouth. 

“I want to be there for you. I want to care for you.”

Oh. 

“I know this was hard for you. The cane. I know you did it for me.”

“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.”

“Regardless, Andrew. What can I do for you?” He continued to massage Andrew’s head, and Andrew’s eyes fell closed on their own. 

He scooted down and tucked his head into the crook of Neil’s throat. “Just this,” he spoke into the soft, warm skin. 

Chapter Text

They were so close Neil could practically taste it in the air. The frantic way his Foxes gave their all despite the late hour, despite having come to the Foxhole Court directly after a full day of classes for most of them, despite their latest game — a most brutal semi final against the Raven — being still embedded in their muscles and lungs, filled Neil’s heart with pride and joy. 

They were so close and Neil couldn’t help laughing every time one of them made a spectacular pass or goal. He chuckled when Nicky jostled one of the freshmen strikers after they had skilfully managed to dance around him for a clear shot on goal. He struggled to breathe through cackles after Sheena, his backliner spot, slammed him into the plexiglass wall and he slid down to the floor. 

The Championship Game against the Trojans was in a week and the Foxes were a gloriously well-oiled machine, playing off each other on instinct and unafraid to show teeth. 

In the goal, Andrew stood the way he always did, with bland indifference but laser focused. Neil’s heart could barely contain how much he loved him. This whole season had been his mission to secure the goalkeeper a third Championship title, because Andrew deserved it. The fact that Andrew was protecting his goal like his life was on the line while also wearing their leather bracelet just made the whole practice that much better. 

There were moments when time stood still, always when Neil caught Andrew’s eyes behind the visor of his helmet and the intensity of his gaze was filled with desire and something akin to pride too. Those looks were always enough to fuel Neil’s runner legs to give a little extra, propelling him up the court to face off against the seasoned goalkeeper. 

Not once did Andrew let his guard down in the face of Neil’s talent, not once did he let him score, that’s not what the bracelet was for. Quite to the contrary. The bracelet, which looked a whole lot like their collar, was a bridge from the first part of a scene they had finished before practice and the other part that would take place later up on the roof. While wearing it, Andrew had promised to give one hundred and ten percent with his racquet in hand, and oh was he delivering. 

Neil smiled to himself. 

Andrew deserved all the filthy things Neil had in mind as a reward. 

Near the end of practice, when everyone was starting to show real exhaustion and the need for rest, Neil got them all ready for one last scrimmage before calling it a night. Everything went well until it didn’t. 

He was up by the away goal when the sound of a racquet hitting the floor pulled his attention from the ball he was chasing after. Something didn’t sit right with him. Something was off in that one, loud sound. So he turned, pivoting on his heels and almost course correcting too sharply. He regained his balance just in time to see Andrew shove Aaron away with both hands pressed against his chest. 

Aaron stumbled back, waited a brief moment, then swung his arm out in a precise arc. Andrew caught his fist easily and pushed him away. “Don’t ever do that again,” Aaron warned his twin. 

With a flick of his wrist, Andrew told Aaron to get lost. 

The Foxes all stopped what they were doing to watch the two brothers face each other. 

“What? You can’t take the truth?” Neil heard Aaron shoot back. 

It was too much. Andrew punched Aaron square in the nose. Blood went everywhere. Neil was upon them in a heartbeat and he had to insert himself between the two of them to stop the fight from escalating. It didn’t sit well with Andrew who pushed Neil off him aggressively. 

“What the hell?” Neil snapped, half stumbling backwards. 

“Stay out of this, Neil,” Andrew replied, savage fury in his eyes. He took his helmet off and dropped it on the floor. “This isn’t your fucking business.”

“You make it my business when you bring it onto my Court, Andrew,” Neil argued hotly. “I don’t want any infighting. You know this.”

Andrew scoffed derisively. “Fine. I’ll take it off the Court then.” He started walking away. 

“Andrew, get back here and apologize!” Neil barked at him, eyes narrowed to slits of anger. They’d made a deal before practice, and Andrew was still technically subbing. He didn’t know what had caused the fight, but Andrew had promised to keep his cool no matter what. Too much was riding on the Foxes’ last practices for shit to go down like this. “Don’t walk away!”

“No,” Andrew snapped angrily before turning on his heels and stalking over to the door in the plexiglass wall. “Fuck off, Captain. ” He wrenched the door open and slammed it shut again behind him, disappearing from view as he crossed the inner court to the outer court and then to the lounge. 

Everything faded away. 

No. 

What did it mean? It hadn’t sounded like a safeword on Andrew’s part, just a rage outburst, but it was Andrew’s safeword in scenes. 

So what did it mean? And what was the protocol? Neil couldn’t leave practice for the sake of one person and for private reasons, the team came first. The team always had to come first. 

Nicky was next to him before Neil had his thoughts arranged, and he put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly. “Let him cool off.”

Turning to look up into Nicky’s kind brown eyes helped settle a little of the screeching in Neil’s head. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to share in order to get the proper kind of advice, but what he and Andrew had was private and personal. 

“The team needs you, Neil, and you need us. Give Andrew space and he’ll come around,” Nicky said sagely. 

But Nicky didn’t know about the bracelet around Andrew’s wrist. 

They finished the scrimmage, spent twenty minutes stretching afterwards, and showered as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Which was fair; Andrew was still known to fly off the handle when provoked, so it was nothing new to the Foxes. 

It was the first time during a scene, though. 

Clean and tired, Neil didn’t get the chance to catch Aaron before he went over to Katelyn’s dorm, and Nicky told him to let him go also, that there would be no point in settling the score now. 

The Maserati was gone from the Foxhole Court’s parking lot, so Neil accepted Sheena’s offer to drive him and Nicky back to the Tower in her old, rusted car. The whole ride long, Neil kept quietly to his own thoughts, trying to sift through what had happened to see if Andrew’s no had been a safeword or just disobedience. The conclusion was simple, in the end. Only Andrew knew the answer to the question burning in Neil’s mind, so a conversation was needed.

The Maserati was parked in its usual spot furthest away from Fox Tower’s main entrance, and the sight of it twisted Neil’s inside into tight knots. 

Nicky said good night to Neil on the fifth floor after exiting the lift, offering to stay out of the dorm and crashing with some of the sophomores. Neil wasn’t fooled — the twins’ cousin knew exactly why he needed to be away for the night. 

When Neil entered the suite, everything was quiet. Not that he had expected anything else. Andrew was most likely up on the roof smoking and staying out of his way. It saddened him. The roof was where they’d had plans. Good plans both had been looking forward to. He toed his sneakers off, aligned them with the wall perfectly, and heaved a deep sigh. There was a hole in his chest he knew could only be filled by talking to Andrew. But he would wait for the goalkeeper to come for him. 

He let the strap of his exy bag slip off his shoulder with a weary shrug, then made his way across the common area to the bedroom. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to do any homework, but he was late on two assignments and that way, at least his mind wouldn’t be stuck on what had happened at the Court. 

The door swung open when he pulled the door handle, and it took Neil a moment to understand what he was seeing. The room was dark but there was the unmistakable form of a man kneeling in the middle of the floor. “Andrew?” Neil asked in a small voice. He turned the light on carefully, wary of what he might find on the goalkeeper’s face. 

Andrew was naked and kneeling on their cushion. He was still wearing the bracelet, and Neil had no idea what it meant. 

“Neil,” Andrew replied, a shy beckoning. A plea. 

Neil went to him and was hit in the stomach by the devastating look of sadness and defeat on his face. It was far from what he had expected. It was too soft after the violence Andrew had displayed earlier. 

Their eyes met. Then Andrew looked away. 

“Did you safeword?” Neil asked, cupping Andrew’s cheek and brushing his thumb along the sharp cheekbone. It wasn’t a proper greeting, but Neil needed to know.  

Andrew shook his head. 

“But you said no .”

“I didn’t think. I was angry. I made a mistake.”

Neil’s heart softened at that last part and he put aside his frustration. “We all make mistakes, love.” He applied more pressure against Andrew’s cheek. “You’re kneeling,” he observed astutely after a moment of silence. 

With hesitant eyes, Andrew looked at him. “I’m still your sub.” His breath rattled in his chest. “If you'll still have me.”

“I’ll always cherish your submission, Andrew.” Neil leaned down to kiss his lips, making sure to make his intent clear beforehand and waiting for Andrew’s nod. “Do you still accept me as your dom right now?”

“Yes,” Andrew breathed against Neil’s mouth, trembling. “Yes.”

It took everything in Neil to remain in control, to not break down and give into the tremendous relief breaking him apart. “What do you need?” he asked instead, shoving his own emotions to the side to make room for Andrew, and only Andrew. 

“I don’t want to think,” Andrew admitted, and Neil wasn’t surprised. Something had set him off during practice. When triggered, Andrew often needed to let go of everything. 

“Sexual?”

“Yes.”

“Pain?” 

“No."

Neil swallowed a lump in his throat and gave Andrew’s two answers some thought. Then, “I want to edge you until you can’t think straight. Until you’re a begging, crying mess.” He deepened his voice. “And only I decide when, or if , you get to come.” He lightened his tone again for the next question. “Toys?”

Andrew thought about it, his eyes vacant. “I’d rather not. But that’s up to you.”

“No toys,” Neil said in a heartbeat. It was a no-brainer, and the way Andrew breathed out a subtle sigh told him it was the right call. “Just the edging. And I won’t go easy on you. You want to not think. I’ll make sure you forget everything around you that isn’t me, love. When all you can do is moan and take it. A boneless body that’s mine to use however I want to. You won’t even know your own name.”

The words alone were having an effect on Andrew. His shoulders relaxed, the look in his eyes misted over, his lips parted on silent words, and his fingers uncurled from the tight fists they’d been making. 

“There you are, gorgeous,” Neil whispered. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to wear the collar too?”

Immediately, Andrew nodded. Neil went to their play box and pulled the softened collar out with reverent hands. He quickly fastened it in the back of Andrew’s neck, then asked him to stand. 

Andrew stood. 

“Up on the bed and present yourself, stud.” Neil spanked him once, not too hard, and chuckled when Andrew gasped. “Get to it.” 

Andrew moved the moment Neil gave him another light tap to his ass. He walked over to their bed, settled on his knees and bent down, catching himself on his forearms.The perfect arch in his bag presented his ass perfectly for use, and what a sight it was. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but Neil had no doubt it would only take a few teasing touches as well as the right kind of words for him to get there. His balls were hanging low and full.

Neither of those, however, was what Neil focused on; he looked at Andrew’s ass, the two full cheeks just begging to be spread apart.

Neil bit his lips to keep from pouncing on his sub right then and there, needing instead to let Andrew stew a little in impatience and frustration. Interestingly enough, the longer Neil waited without doing anything, the harder Andrew’s cock got. “Just look at you,” Neil eventually said, finally putting one foot in front of the other. “Getting all hard just waiting like the perfect, needy little thing that you are.”

The breathy groan Andrew tried to hold back did things to Neil he didn’t have the proper words to describe.

When Neil was right next to their bed and Andrew, he ran his hand down his spine, from his neck, down across the valley of the arch, and back up to his ass. For good measure, he spanked it a third time before gripping the flesh of one of his cheeks.

Leaning forward, Neil whispered, “I’ve got you, you can let go,” into Andrew’s ear because he needed him to know that he was safe and always would be, no matter what. The urge to assure the goalkeeper that he would always be there, would never leave him, ran deep in Neil. He kissed Andrew’s freckled shoulder when the latter nodded and hummed contentedly. “Will you give me your submission until I end the scene?”

“Yes.”

“Will you safeword if it gets to be too much?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not planning on going easy on your ass,” Neil added, distantly proud of his own pun.

Andrew snorted, then answered, “I don’t want you to go easy on my ass .”

“Good, then. Let’s get started, yeah?” Neil snaked his hand underneath Andrew’s body to feel the full length of his cock and then pulled on his balls until Andrew’s breathing hitched. “There you go,” Neil said sweetly. “Just relax and give in to it.”

Neil got into bed behind Andrew, feeling the mattress dip under his knees. It was always a tight fit in their shared bed at the Tower, and he had to sit back on his heels so his head didn’t bump Robin’s upper bunk. With a smirk, he gripped Andrew’s hips and pulled him closer. “Spread your legs and pop that ass out for me.”

Andrew widened his knees and arched his back further, leaning his chest down on the bed to give his arms a rest – after all, he’d played phenomenally at practice before storming off, stretching every muscle in his body, especially those in his arms, to reach each and every ball thrown at him, so Neil couldn’t fault him for falling out of the position he had been told to get into.

Neil ran his hands over Andrew’s full ass, squeezing to watch his fingertips dent the skin, then continued down to the back of his thighs, careful to keep his touch hard enough so as to not tickle him. Nothing would end the night faster than that. Andrew moaned when Neil reached the back of his knees and pushed his legs even further apart. “There you are. This is how I want you, so don’t move. Got it?”

Andrew nodded, legs shaking slightly from the stretch.

“Good. I’m going to enjoy every second of this,” Neil promised earnestly. “Are you ready?”

Incredibly, Andrew managed to spread his legs apart by another inch or so in answer. Oh yeah, he was ready, and Neil parted his asscheeks without warning. He leaned in and ran his tongue up Andrew’s crease from his taint to his tailbone. 

Andrew’s entire body jolted at the sudden contact.

Neil kept his licks light and teasing, using only the tip of his tongue to circle Andrew’s hole repeatedly. When Andrew started moving his body backwards, Neil growled, “No moving,” against his rim, letting his teeth scrape against the furled skin.

Needy whimpers fell from Andrew’s mouth in a symphony of chaotic pleasure, and Neil could feel the way his muscles were locked in place to keep from rocking back and meeting him. Neil breached him in reward for following his order so beautifully and Andrew’s ass clamped down on his tongue like a vice.

Andrew’s first orgasm was slow in building, but the groan he bit out, feral and guttural, when Neil pulled back at the last moment told Neil it would have been a powerful one. “You’re doing so well, stud,” he praised. “So good for me.” He was in awe – Andrew was rarely able to come untouched, but it would seem tonight was the kind of night where he was wound tight in the right way.

Lapping at him, Neil coaxed Andrew towards the second denied orgasm of the evening. Andrew’s body quaked when Neil fucked him with his tongue only to remove it abruptly a moment later. “Fuck,” Andrew whined.

For the next round, Neil reached for their lube hidden between their mattress and the wall. The tube was almost empty and Neil made a mental note to add it to their list of things to buy soon. With Andrew’s imminent graduation and move across the country to play for his new team, their sex life had seen an increase in activity, both in and outside their subbing and domming. Neil coated three of his fingers generously but started with only one. “Yes,” he answered encouragingly when Andrew hissed at the sudden contact of his wet digit. “You know what’s coming.” He traced the crack the same way his tongue had, then paused on the way back down when it reached Andrew’s hole. “God, you’re tight tonight, huh?”

Gently, Neil circled his finger over the barely stretched rim.

“Bear down on my finger, love, you can move again,” Neil ordered. Andrew sighed with relief and pressed back against Neil’s finger which slipped in easily. “You’re so warm. I can’t wait to take you with my dick.”

“Do it,” Andrew gasped when Neil found his prostate. “Just fucking do it.”

“Oh no, Andrew, you’re in no position to tell me to do anything.”

“ Fuck ,” Andrew whined loudly when Neil withdrew his finger to the first knuckle only to slam it back in.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes – yes. Yes.”

“Good boy. Open up for me; I’m going to give you a second one now.” Neil pulled his finger out slowly, then pressed two in even slower. Andrew had asked for no pain, and so Neil would be extra careful. He would wait all night if need be for Andrew to be ready to get fucked properly. 

“More,” Andrew begged.

“Not yet, stud, have some patience,” Neil chuckled, knowing Andrew was all out of patience.

Andrew moaned and pushed his hips back to take more of Neil’s fingers. “Touch me?” he asked, heartbreakingly vulnerable and desperate.

“I am touching you,” Neil laughed, twisting his two fingers with devilish precision and watching the goalkeeper fall apart.

“My dick,” Andrew clarified. His voice was wrecked and thready.

Neil looked at Nicky’s alarm clock on the floor by the head of his bed and saw that it had only been twenty minutes. It was far from their record, but Neil thought it okay to start playing with Andrew’s neglected cock. The moment he gave him what he needed, Andrew’s cock throbbed in his hand and started leaking at the tip, making the lazy strokes smoother.

“Neil, Neil,” Andrew kept begging breathlessly when Neil continued thrusting in and out of his ass, his fingers glistening and slick. “ Neil .”

“Yes?” Neil cooed softly, smiling to himself. Andrew cock grew harder and warmer, and right when Andrew gave a hoarse warning, before it was too late, Neil stopped every movement. 

“Fu-uck,” Andrew grunted, lost, so completely lost.

Neil didn’t speak, just soothed the frustration in Andrew’s whole body with slow caresses to his sides and thighs. When he deemed him ready to resume, he said, “Just relax, love. You’re almost ready to take my cock, aren’t you? Let me just finish prepping you.” He pressed a third fingertip against the now loosened and waiting hole, toying with it before dipping inside. “Do you want three?”

It wasn’t really a question, and Andrew knew it. That didn’t stop him from answering regardless. “Yes. Give me three.”

Neil was mesmerized by the sight of Andrew’s ass opening up to him. And he squeezed his eyes firmly shut when he thought ahead to the moment when his dick would be invited in. 

Sweat coated Andrew’s skin after another edge, a beautiful light sheen Neil wouldn’t mind running his tongue over, tasting the salty result of Andrew’s submission. He sighed instead and pulled on Andrew’s dripping cock a few more times, feeling him squirm and tremble. He wasn’t far from the state Neil wanted him in. But it wouldn’t also be long before it became too much, and Neil wanted to avoid that place at all cost. It was a fine line between the two. 

“Okay,” Neil said, preparing himself for what was to come. “From now on you’ll stroke your own dick, but you do not have the permission to come before I’m inside you,” he explained evenly, rubbing the goalkeeper’s left asscheek with the back of his free hand.

Andrew moaned long and throaty when his own hand replaced Neil’s and he started pleasuring himself. His hole was shiny with lube and relaxed in the most inviting way. 

“Alright. One more, and then I’ll give you what you need,” Neil announced, reinserting his three fingers and playing with Andrew’s prostate some more.

“Fuck me,” Andrew bit out in frustration, his voice so gone and shaky. 

“Not yet, stud. Not yet. One more,” Neil reiterated. “Maybe two.”

Andrew whined and it was delicious; pure magic to Neil’s ears. 

“Keep stroking. Don’t make it three more. You wouldn’t like that. Would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” Andrew agreed breathlessly, and the way he so carefully and purposely avoided answering the question with a no told Neil they were still in the green. 

Two minutes later, Andrew was struggling to come back down from another high without release. His breathing was heavy and choppy, his body quaking from the overexertion. 

“That’s it. You did so well. I’m so proud of you, Andrew. Are you ready for my dick now?” 

“God yes, I need it.”

Neil chuckled. “I know you do. You’re practically gagging for it.” He rose up on his knees, head hitting the bed above them, shoved his jeans down around his thighs, gripped the base of his cock, and ever so teasingly rubbed the head over Andrew’s hole, every fold of the rim sending thrills down to his ballsack. “Breathe out, Andrew, and bear down. Show me how much you want me to fuck you.” he stroked Andrew’s back, his fingers dancing over his slick skin. Neil then held his hip with one hand and slowly pushed forward while Andrew breathed out and bore down. 

His cockhead popped in and the heat and tightness was intense . Unwilling to keep banging his head against the slats of Robin’s bed, Neil draped himself over Andrew’s back, shoving himself balls deep in the same motion. Both moaned deeply, and Neil wrapped his hand over the collar fastened around Andrew’s neck and throat possessively, grunting, “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” Andrew agreed when Neil tugged on the collar and obstructed some of his airflow. The word came out a jumbled mess of desperation and struggle.

Neil took Andrew in short, quick thrusts, making sure to never stray from his prostate, no matter how difficult it was in their folded position. The feeling of Andrew’s skin against his own was intoxicating, and he sank his teeth into the flesh of Andrew’s shoulder without biting hard enough to cause pain. “Come anytime you want. You’ve been so good, taking everything I gave you. You have my permission.”

Andrew whimpered when Neil slammed his hips harder. 

“What do you say, though?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy. Now let me fuck you.”

Andrew came a couple of minutes later, his hand still working his cock, and he bit the pillow to keep the sound that poured from his throat under control. The muscles in his ass hugged Neil’s cock a little too tightly in waves, and Neil was helpless. He came deep inside the goalkeeper, grunting into his neck and gripping his hair in a death grip.

After asking for permission, Neil removed both the collar around Andrew's neck and the bracelet around his wrist. They were back to just Andrew and Neil, and Neil breathed a little easier. They still had things to talk about, but for now all that mattered was that he had a spaced sub to take care of, and nothing was more important than that. He threw the two leather objects down on the floor.

It took Andrew a while to come back to himself, which was normal after a scene with a lot of edging. He was unfocused and heavy when Neil rearranged their positions and held him against his chest. Words of praise and a thorough head massage slowly brought the goalkeeper back, and after a quick shower, Neil made them a delicious dinner of pasta carbonara. They cuddled up in bed after, not a part of them not touching when Andrew fell asleep.

It was a while longer before Neil slept too.

⁎

“We need to talk about yesterday and what happened at the Court.” 

It was the next day, a little after lunch, and Neil and Andrew had the suite to themselves for the next few hours, Neil had made sure of it. They had spent a wonderfully idle morning just studying side by side on the floor for their finals and sharing languid kisses.

“I know.”

They were standing in the bedroom by their bed. 

“You disrespected me while still wearing our leather and disobeyed a direct order. Plus , you  were being rude and I can’t let that go unpunished.”

“I know.” Andrew hung his head and the sight of it was devastating. But Neil couldn’t look past his behavior. It was one thing to safeword and then talk about what happened, another to mouth off in front of the whole team and then storm off. Neil could tolerate a lot when Andrew wasn’t subbing. That was just Andrew being himself. But when wearing their collar or bracelet, Neil expected full obedience. No exceptions. 

Neil didn’t have the heart to dish out something too hard or mean, however. He hated disciplining Andrew. He liked real punishments a bit more, but since Andrew liked those sometimes, now was not the time to spank him. 

He asked, “How would you punish yourself?”

Andrew’s head was still hung. And he hesitated before saying, “I guess, some sort of restraints. Something not too comfortable.”

Neil liked the sound of that. Ideas came to him. “How about I tie your mouth to a dildo gag, shove it down your throat. Make you bend over and strap you down. I’d leave you for half an hour unless you safeword. You’re not allowed to move. Not a muscle.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like that?”

“Honestly. I wouldn’t.”

That was settled then. Andrew hadn’t safeworded out of that scenario. “It’ll be in the shower. You’ll be wet. And I’ll give your balls my toes but no pleasure.”

Andrew groaned. He liked Neil’s feet. Liked Neil to dominate him with them, make him beg to suck them or to have them jerk him off. He liked to cum on them and then be made to lick them clean. But this was not that. This was very different, Neil would make sure of it before he left Andrew to his restrained devices. 

“I’ll put the steel collar on you.” A new acquisition for shower submission. Their leather collar was old now and starting to fray, and neither wanted water anywhere near it. “Kneel. And wait. I’ll go get it. Letting me put it on you is accepting my punishment. Refusing will have us reassess what you can take. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“What are your safewords?”

“ Yellow for pause. Red and no for stop.”

“Are you using them?”

Andrew shook his head. “I am not.”

“Will you use them appropriately?”

“Yes.”

“Can I trust you? You misused one yesterday.”

“You can. But if you need to, I’ll earn your trust over time.”

Neil softened his eyes. “Take your punishment and you’ll have earned it back.”

Chapter Text

Pain was pain was pain was pain.

But there was something almost divine about the kind you could choose for yourself, and as Andrew connected his ungloved, and barely flimsily gauze-wrapped, hand against the punching bag in the smaller training room at the Foxhole Court, he relished the lancing flashes of burning fire reaching from his curled fingers to his shoulder blade. A savage smile broke the surface of his lips while streams of sweat poured down his temples and spine; here he was in control.

In control of every decision, every action, every movement, and of every breath taken and released. Here Andrew was in control of his limits and of when to call a stop.

He wasn’t proud of having stormed off, again, but it had been wholly his decision, no one else’s, and when push came to shove, he had done the right thing. Replacing one hurt with another was a smart and sensible thing to do. Neil would understand. Maybe. Probably not. Though Neil wasn’t an idiot, and his eyes as Andrew had slammed the dorm’s door behind him had told him as much. The scene had been over anyway, hadn’t it? He had been free to do as he pleased.

Fuck aftercare.

This was his aftercare — the punching bag, the sweat, the pain, his grunts, his knuckles undoubtedly turning an angry red… 

Control.

He punched the bag and bit back a groan while holding onto his feral smile. Muscle aches replaced the ones swirling in his mind.

Get yourself hard, stud. Get on your knees. Then crawl into the shower. Neil’s voice had exuberated enough authority and such a commanding presence that Andrew had found it impossible to disobey. He had nodded and taken his half-hard dick in hand, efficiently rubbing himself to full mast, precum shining from the slit in the bathroom’s overhead light. It had been difficult letting go of the pleasure building and coalescing in his balls, and he’d loved feeling them draw up tight and hug the base of his dick. One stern look from Neil, however, had helped him pull back. Keeping eye contact the way Andrew knew satisfied Neil deeply, Andrew had dropped to his knees. There he had kept his spine straight and his chin raised, but the longer he had fought the third part of Neil’s command, the more Neil’s eyes had turned to stone, crushing him under their weight. A deep and ragged inhale had preceded Andrew’s submission. Slowly, he had unstraightened his spine and dropped down on all fours before crawling on his hands and knees, goosebumps prickling his skin despite there having been zero chill in the air. Neil had praised him softly, then grabbed his hair to still him as soon as Andrew had reached the wall of the shower. There you go, stud, so gorgeous for me.

Andrew’s next punch connected perfectly with the side of the punching bag, but the pain was beginning to morph together into a dulled afterthought; it was time to up his antics; blood wasn’t roaring in his ears yet, his legs still held steady, and he wasn’t consumed by his own sense of control. He punched his target a lot harder and laughed shakily instead of cursing at the renewed and harder sting.

Put your hands here and here. It’s not our biggest dildo, it won’t choke you, and I want it deep in your throat, forehead to the tiles. Don’t move once you’re in position. Your twenty minutes will start then, and your safeword will be to remove your right hand from the wall. Neil had fixed their white dildo to one of the shower tiles by help of the suction cup at the base. It hadn’t been their biggest, that much was certain, but it had still been big enough to not be comfortable after twenty minutes. Not to mention that the height of where Neil had stuck it, paired with the two places he had told Andrew to position his hands, would make for an uncomfortably bent position. But the collar around Andrew’s neck had offered him no choice. Sure, he’d had his safeword — that small, common, impactful word, ignored in the past but always respected in the present — but it had been the reason behind his predicament in the first place, so fuck-all would he have uttered it. Instead, he had sighed when Neil had released his hair, then taken the fake cock in his mouth, pushing it in deep and glad not to have to worry about his teeth. He had flattened his palms against the wall and mentally prepared to endure, the muscles in his shoulders and upper back already quivering. I should immobilize you more often without restraints, love, you look amazing like this.

The punching bag began swaying under the continuous blows Andrew administered. Everything had gone well with the punishment, the usual thrill mixed with the vague humiliation of having had to crawl an intoxicating combination. Andrew remembered the way his skin had heated at the praise. Compliments, of any kind, were still a battlefield most of the time, except in scenes where his only job as the Sub was to accept them and not disappoint his Dom. It was simple. If Neil told him he was gorgeous, then he was gorgeous, and who gave a fuck if Andrew was on all fours when he received the praise? If Neil told him he was amazing, then he was amazing, even with a sex toy in his mouth and drool leaking out the corner of his lips.

When the bag continued to sway erratically, Andrew paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He didn’t often train his kicks, but a little whisper at the back of his mind told him it would be a good idea to engage his entire body. He went over to one of the inlaid closets, pulled out a chain identical to the short one tying the punching bag to a hook in the ceiling. He clipped one end of it to the bottom of the bag, flipped a hook open in the floor, and then tied the other end to it.

Trapped like this, the bag held steady, and Andrew lost no time in kicking his right leg out in a controlled arch. The sound of the impact was immensely satisfying, softer than the sound of his fist but deeper and longer.

Spread your knees. Now, handsome. Let me look at all of you. Neil’s feet had kicked Andrew’s knees apart none too gently until they had gone as far as they could go, leaving his entire backside visible and vulnerable. Neil had turned the water on afterwards, adjusting the shower head so the stream cascaded down on Andrew’s neck and upper back. The sudden and intrusive poking of Neil’s toes to his balls, taint, and hole had punched an obstructed moan out of Andrew from deep in his gut. He loved Neil’s feet, had long since made his peace with it, and every time Neil’s toes had rubbed against his rim with enough pressure to almost breach him, he had shuddered with strained need, his dick rock hard and leaking. He’d known he didn’t have permission to come, but oh god had he wanted to. He had wanted to beg and plead for Neil to fuck him like that, but thankfully the dildo gagging him had held him back. They had talked about progressing from footjobs to more, but the first time should not be during a punishment scene. That hadn’t stopped Andrew from pushing back and relaxing his hole. Neil had fisted his hair, tutted down at him, and told him it was unseemly and pathetic to enjoy himself like that, and Andrew had burned in the best way possible at the hand and foot and mercy of his junkie. Have you got no self-control? Do you need it that badly? So desperate. Five minutes left, stud. Stop moving. 

Andrew quickly alternated between his right and left foot every ten kicks, and it was only a matter of time before every part of him was screaming in protest at the rough exercise, pleading for a break. He ignored everything. He was in control. It was his choice to stop whenever he wanted to. And he didn’t want to stop yet. He kicked harder and harder, and harder. Anything to forget the next part that had undone it all.

We’re not done yet. Get dressed and meet me in the common room. This had been news to Andrew. Neil hadn’t mentioned having more planned for the scene after the shower, but he hadn’t said the punishment would end after the shower either. A little dazed after getting to his feet again, Andrew had worked the cricks in the hinges of his jaw out with a quick massage and few biting exercises, then he’d dried himself with his fluffy towel and gotten dressed. In the common room, Andrew had immediately seen their kneeling cushion smack in the middle on the floor, and Neil had been standing next to it with Andrew’s cellphone in his hand. One look from his Dom had told Andrew that he was supposed to kneel in perfect submission and wait for his next order. So Andrew had, and for minutes, Neil had showered him with praise, telling him how loved and cherished he was, and how well he had taken Neil’s punishment, how proud Neil was of his perfect Sub, and Andrew had relaxed in increments until he had been a pliant pile of warmth. It had been a mistake to let his guards down, because then Neil had issued his final command. Andrew had found himself at his Dom’s mercy in a way he did not want to, on his knees with his phone in hand and the instruction to call his brother to apologize for what had happened at practice. Instantly, his heart rate had skyrocketed and he had felt more naked than when he’d been spread wide by Neil’s feet in the shower. He hadn’t called his safeword, but found Aaron’s contact information and connected his finger to the button. Not giving Aaron time to say much more than a clipped greeting, Andrew had told him through gritted teeth and with clenched fists that he was sorry for lashing out at him on the Court. Afterwards, Neil had accepted the phone back with a beaming smile. I’m calling an end to the scene.

Andrew switched back to punching the bag, faster and faster. The muscles in his arms seized and screamed. He ignored it. His knuckles were blazing. 

You’re forgiven. You did so good. Andrew had pushed to his feet and stumbled away from Neil, clawing at the collar’s lock in his neck. As soon as it had come undone, he had frantically wrenched it off and thrown it at the cushion. His last word before leaving the dorm, after shoving his feet into his sneakers and grabbing his keys off the kitchenette counter, had been, No!

His safeword. 

Everything hurt deliciously. Blood was pumping in his temples. Sweat was running down his exhausted muscles. His vision was swimming with dark dots. His breaths were harsh pants leaving his heaving lungs. Just a little bit more, he told himself, just a few more kicks, a couple more punches. He was almost there.

Cheerful oblivion. The kind Andrew only achieved through complete and unrestrained submission, in moments when he was safe and unafraid to give himself over at Neil’s feet. 

Kneeling. 

He had struggled at first, gradually sinking willingly into the position scene after scene. 

He managed to get five more hits in when suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder. He had a good idea who it could be, and just one glance out the corner of his eye, revealed the tell-tale scars on knuckles that meant Neil was the person standing behind him.

Andrew shrugged the hand off him and staggered over to his water bottle. He slid down the wall, finally giving his body the break it needed. With the hem of his t-shirt, he wiped his face, a rather useless endeavor as more sweat beaded along his skin almost immediately.

Neil crouched down in front of him. “We need to talk.”

“No need,” Andrew shot down, wiping his face a second time and taking a long swig from his water.

“You stormed out.”

“The scene was over, was it not?”

Neil’s eyes roamed every inch of Andrew’s face before he said, “It was,” with an edge of defeat.

“So?”

“Andrew. You know so,” Neil complained. “I have a responsibility to make sure you’re okay after a scene.”

“I’m okay.”

Neil gestured vaguely at Andrew’s slumped, sitting form. “You’re not. You left without aftercare, mad as hell, and you can’t even look at me.”

It was the truth, so Andrew forced himself to look at his junkie, focusing on the blue eyes and their specks of icy paler shades. “What do you want?”

“Tell me what Aaron told you at practice.”

“That an order?” Andrew sneered challengingly.

There was no accounting for the sadness in Neil’s eyes. “Of course not,” he answered. Then, “I fucked up, Andrew. I should have asked you before we got started.” When Andrew didn’t comment, Neil said again, “Will you tell me?”

Feeling suddenly vindictive and wanting to hit Neil where it hurt, Andrew didn’t sugarcoat what his own twin had spat at him during a heated moment of brotherly animosity. If Neil wanted to know, he was damned well going to know. Andrew sat up straighter, holding Neil’s eyes hostage with a glare. “He told me that I’m worthless for allowing you to do the things you do to me.” He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek as he watched his words sink into Neil’s comprehension. Neil’s lips parted but Andrew was faster. “He thinks that what we’re doing is sick and that I’m disgusting for kneeling at your command.”

“Andrew,” Neil whimpered, his blue eyes wide orbs of horror and sadness. He swallowed harshly. “How does he know?” 

Andrew shrugged one shoulder. How the hell should he know? He hadn’t exactly stuck around to start an inquiry. 

“Andrew,” Neil tried again and it was unclear what he wanted to add. Comforting words? Another apology? Platitudes that held no leverage in this instance? Promises to do better in the future? Andrew would never know, because Neil shook his head, pushed to his feet, walked over to his backpack on the floor by the door, and rummaged inside it for a tiny moment. 

When Neil came back to Andrew, one of their floggers was clutched in his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you say jump and I jump. That’s what this is.” He pointed at the device in Neil’s hands, curious why he was holding it. Was Neil planning on punishing him further, for withholding Aaron’s words, or for storming out? Would he accept it? Would it be wise to do so?

“You know that’s not true,” Neil argued almost angrily. He held out the flogger. “I’ll kneel. I’ll beg for forgiveness. I should have done better. I’ll let you hurt me.”

Anger bubbled in Andrew, white-hot and all-encompassing, though anger at what, he couldn’t parse. He grabbed the tails of the flogger, wrenched it out of Neil’s grasp, and threw it as far away as possible. It hit the punching bag with a resounding thump and went to the floor where the leather strips lay pell mell, end over end. “No,” he growled. When Neil arched his eyebrows at him, he added, “There, are you happy? I used my safeword, and accordingly.” 

“Andrew,” Neil pleaded. 

Andrew glared at him before something at once soft and vulnerable, as well as terrified, crossed Neil’s expression. Mournful. “What are we doing?” he asked, deflating, suddenly very tired. 

“What do you mean?” Neil questioned. 

“This,” Andrew answered, pointing a finger at the flogger. “Are we doing the right thing?”

“I don’t know. Are we?”

Andrew didn’t want his brother’s words to win, but they were loud and sharp. “Fuck if I know it,” Andrew snapped. “You like pain. I like verbal humiliation. That’s not normal. But I love it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m leaving after the summer. What will happen then, huh? How can this,” — he pointed at the flogger a second time — “even work long distance?”

“If it can’t work, we’ll find a way to be together that suits us. This has never defined us, Andrew. We define us.” Neil pressed his lips into a thin, contemplative line in a moment of laden pause. “What do you want?”

Was he giving Andrew an out? 

Suddenly, Andrew’s heart was in his throat and roaring in his ears. The chain he knew was around Neil’s neck with the ring hanging from it pulled some of the chaos in his mind into sharp focus. Did Neil want an out?

Did Andrew? 

He laced his fingers with Neil’s. “Us. I want us.” He took a deep breath. “And I want to keep this. I want to keep giving you what you need, and I want to keep the humiliation that calms me down.” He absolutely didn’t want an out, not when it came down to it. With a sigh of relief, tears welled in Neil’s eyes. Andrew wiped them away when they fell one by one. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you. And I’m sorry I didn’t safeword. I wanted to prove to you that I could be good.”

“Don’t you get it? You prove that to me every day. Just by breathing. By waking up by my side and by kissing me goodnight. By kneeling at my feet and by towering over me. You’re the single most good thing in my life. And I told you, you’re forgiven. You took your punishment. It’s in the past.”

“Is it?” Andrew asked with fragile hope. 

“Yes.”

Andrew closed his eyes and inhaled softly. 

The sudden touch of Neil’s thumbs rubbing the delicate skin under Andrew’s eyes had the goalkeeper curse softly and lean into the caress. “Love?” Neil asked. “I want to run something by you.”

Andrew opened his eyes and nodded solemnly. Neil’s tone beckoned his full attention in a heartbeat. 

“I think we need another safeword. One we share and one that means exactly what it says.”

Ominous, that. “Okay. Tell me.”

“If one of us says I don’t want to, we stop immediately, we don’t push, and we don’t postpone it for later. We won’t make the other do it, ever. And that goes for punishments too.”

Andrew mulled it over, though not for long. “I agree.”

“You do?” Neil asked, sagging with relief against Andrew’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Of course. It’s an excellent idea. I’d rather not have a repeat of today if at all possible.”

The look that entered Neil’s eyes heralded the kiss he planted on Andrew’s lips shortly after. “Fuck, I love you.”

“Love you too, junkie.”

Neil pushed up on his knees so he loomed over Andrew before leaning his head down and pressing their foreheads together. Mesmerized, Andrew looked up and fell into the vast pools of Neil’s eyes. “I want us to connect,” he whispered so low Andrew could barely make out the words. “I miss you and I want to show you how much.”

“I already know, Neil,” Andrew replied softly. “You don’t need to give me anything to prove that. Every day, just by waking up with me and going to bed at night next to me, you show me that you want us to connect,” he assured him, echoing Neil’s words. He kissed Neil’s jaw.

“None of that is the same as the surrender I want to give you,” Neil admitted with a nip to Andrew’s bottom lip. “Flog me. I need it. No pain. No marks. No dominance. Just my surrender.”

Like waves washing over him, Neil’s words pulled Andrew under with gentle tugs. He bucked his ass off the floor, shocking Neil off balance, and used the momentum to flip them fluidly so Neil was on his back and Andrew was the one straddling him. He knew the moment he towered over his junkie and looked down on him — while Neil looked up at him with hope and adoration in his eyes — that he would accept. He wanted to always give Neil what he desired. It was why he had spanked him for the first time all those years ago, followed by more over time, all the way to purchasing the humbler a few weeks back at Neil’s request. It still lay in their play box, ready and waiting. Waiting for them to be ready to use it.

Neil’s wishes were more important.

“No pain?” he asked to make sure.

“No pain,” Neil confirmed.

“No marks?” 

“No marks.”

“No domination?”

Neil reached up to cup Andrew’s jaw and spoke around a bashful smile, “That’s up to you.”

Andrew nodded. “No domination.” It was a no-brainer; he wasn’t in the right headspace to hold Neil’s control in the palm of his hand, he had barely been able to hold his own control there. “Your surrender?”

“My surrender," Neil promised adamantly. 

A deep breath expanded Andrew’s lungs and he released it bit by bit, the idea growing on him. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Andrew told Neil, pushing hair off the striker’s forehead before raking his fingers through it to the back of his head. “Can I decide how I want you positioned?” he asked, lifting Neil’s head off the floor and to him.

“Of course.”

Andrew licked his lips. “I want you holding the punching bag, your back to me,” he announced. He looked at the bag he had taken his anger out on, and the vision of Neil helpless and flying high against it was deeply appealing. Not to mention that this was where Andrew had practiced his strokes at first before flogging Neil, using the bag as a stand-in for a body. “Where do you want the tails to hit you?”

“Just my back and shoulders,” Neil replied instantly.

“You’ll keep your jeans on. But remove your shoes, socks, and shirt. Show me how willing you are.” Andrew rose and moved off Neil to give him room to do as told. 

On his part, Neil obeyed at lightning speed. 

Andrew picked the flogger up from the floor. It was one of their lighter ones, not meant to pack too harsh a punch, just a subtle sting when used with the right amount of power and wrist flourish. Andrew sighed. The weight of the device was wonderfully familiar and its movements predictable. He found the balance point and held it there steadily while Neil watched him. 

“You’ll always look stunning with a flogger in your hand,” Neil muttered with heavy-lidded eyes. 

Andrew nodded. “And you’ll always look gorgeous with leather against your back,” he returned softly, voice filled with awed praise. 

The tails, deerskin and soft to the touch, weren’t too long, and the handle, which didn’t have any knots, was comfortable to hold for longer periods of time. It was the perfect flogger for shorter people. Andrew adjusted his hold and Neil made a breathy sound.

“Turn around, Neil.”

Andrew advanced and Neil shivered instinctively before turning around. Andrew crowded his back, and with each step he took, he forced Neil to walk over to the punching bag. Andrew had him first bracing himself upon his hands, then he moved them one by one. “Here,” he said. “Here,” he said again. “Hold the bag. Don’t let go.”

Neil held himself perfectly the way Andrew maneuvred him, standing there in accepted surrender. 

Next, Andrew kissed down Neil’s spine and across his shoulder blades to loosen the muscles and get him to relax fully. When Neil was pliant, Andrew stepped back the length of the flogger’s range.

With a lazy underhand, Andrew hit Neil so the deerskin tails trailed up his back. Neil gasped in surprise and moaned when the tails fell away from his skin. It was one of Andrew’s favorite sounds in the whole world.

All at once, Andrew felt the heaviness of responsibility creep up on him the way it always did. When flogging someone, it was absolutely important to stay away from the spine with harder hits, and it really wasn’t safe to hit the kidneys. And since Neil didn’t want pain, Andrew had to make sure not to let the ends wrap around his sides and strike his ribs.

Many things could go wrong.

But Andrew was by now well-versed and confident in his abilities to cause no harm. He practiced a few flicks against the air before landing a thumping fall against Neil’s left shoulder blade. The tresses struck exactly where Andrew had intended them to, and the high suffused him, leaving a buzzing beneath his skin and igniting a fire in his veins. 

Neil pulled his shoulders back and opened his body to Andrew. He was so fucking beyond gorgeous like this. He was unreal. And he was Andrew’s. Something Andrew told him in no uncertain terms with his next hit. “Mine.”

“Yes,” Neil agreed with a whimper. “Yes.”

Andrew made sure the next couple of minutes were warm-ups, but it was also a unique form of worship. He steadied his hand and teased Neil’s back, letting his junkie’s moans and groans guide him until the forty pieces of deerskin free-fell against his upper back in a blur.

Slowly, Neil pressed his cheek into the leather of the punching bag, affording Andrew a slanted view of his lax face and blissed-out expression.

The steady rhythm of Andrew’s strokes hardened a smidgen, the brushes heavier but never hard, a rough caress of sensation. Heat gathered visibly under Neil’s skin, sweat pooling in the low of his back and matting the hairs in his neck.

Neil relaxed further, and his pleasure formed in Andrew too, guiding his movements in a feedback-loop of giving and receiving, of action and reaction, a sort of sensual dance. It was gentle in so many ways — the simple weight of the flogger and the guidance of Andrew’s wrist. The blinking of his eyes. The breathing of his lungs. The minute shifting from foot to foot.

Eventually, Andrew switched to practiced eight-figures, gathering speed and alternating between hitting one side of Neil’s back, then the other, left, right, left, right, again and again. No pause.

Each strike pulled a deep groan of naked pleasure from Neil who sounded drunk and nearly delirious.

Andrew wanted him higher still.

Moving past the warm-ups, Andrew started striking Neil over and over, switching to underarm strokes to change the angle, the tresses fanning as they landed immaculately. Neil’s yelps and whines were delicious, and they licked along Andrew’s body much the same way the flogger licked along Neil’s.

Andrew lived in the strokes, his eyes trained on each one. He claimed all of Neil’s exposed skin and the minutes passed though everything seemed suspended. Sweat ran down his back from the exertion for the second time that day, wettening the waistband of his sweats.

He took a step back so only the tips of the flogger’s tails grazed Neil’s skin who breathed gasp after gasp like whispered prayers. Ragged and longing. Freeing.

Andrew never hit the same spot twice in a row, always moving the flogger around. He turned his body sideways for his last hits, arcing his arm over his head and flinging the tails softly so they sang through the air.

Not once did Neil jerk.

Not once did Andrew give him reason to.

And then Andrew stopped. Neil was exactly where he belonged. High up and soaring. 

Andrew rolled his shoulders to work the muscles there softly. He closed his eyes and breathed calmly, a contrast to his junkie’s ragged huffs of air. “Neil,” he said gently, taking measured steps towards him. Neil’s bare back was a most gorgeous pink color; not an angry red from pain and hurt and endurance, but rosy from love and devotion. There were no marks of forced submission, just the glow of sweet surrender, exactly what Neil had wanted. Andrew couldn’t help the fierce feeling of pride permeating every atom of his body, pride that traveled outward to cloak Neil as well who had held his position without fail.

It had only taken a little less than twenty minutes, according to the wall clock hanging over one of the treadmills, to get Neil flushed and supple and gasping with every thud of the deerskin pieces of the flogger, and Andrew would never grow tired of this trusting and unapologetically vulnerable side of Neil. He was gorgeous, and sweat-glistening from the undeniable heat in his back warming the rest of his body. His jeans dug into his waist and Andrew continued his walk over to him. “Neil,” he repeated, making sure that Neil was able to hear his approaching voice. “Neil,” he said one last time when he was right behind him, only inches between their bodies.

He dropped the flogger down at Neil’s feet, the handle sliding slowly out of his loosely clenched fist, letting the device fall in such a manner that Neil felt it land on the floor. The flogging was over. Neil’s body sagged heavily against the punching bag, his hands slipping down its side. Andrew was on him a moment later. He peeled his damp t-shirt off and pressed himself against Neil. His junkie’s back was burning like a furnace against his chest and Neil shifted his weight so he swayed back on his feet and into Andrew’s open arms. He was pliant and easily maneuverable, and Andrew met no resistance when he grabbed Neil’s hands, twining their fingers, and removed them from the punching bag. Stains of small droplets of sweat marked where Neil had held on dutifully. 

Andrew circled his arms around Neil’s torso, crossing Neil’s own arms against his chest. “Let go. I’ve got you,” he murmured quietly into Neil’s ear, wet hair tickling his cheek.

Neil was nothing but a molten man, cast in the simple shape of the pleasure he had taken from the falls of the flogger.

After several seconds of steadily synchronizing their breathing and heartbeats, Andrew snaked a hand down Neil’s body and came to the button of his jeans, which he popped out of its slot. He did the zipper down. Not for sexual reasons, but because he saw how the heat and the sweat had tightened the waistband into Neil’s flesh, and Andrew wanted him comfortable and floaty.

Neil, however, had other plans. “Andrew,” he whimpered in his half-flying, half-aroused voice, and it awoke the part inside Andrew that lived to take care of his junkie. Andrew nodded, his chin pressed into the flesh between Neil’s neck and shoulder. “Touch me.”

“I’ve got you, Neil,” Andrew murmured again, shushing him gently when Neil squirmed impatiently. Wanting to make sure Neil stayed on his high, Andrew didn’t make him wait a moment longer, reaching inside his boxer-briefs and closing his hand around the erection straining towards Neil’s stomach.

Neil’s hard cock was damp at the tip and as warm to the touch as the skin on his back. Andrew made a tight fist around him, and four strokes later, Neil came, surrendering the very last of himself to Andrew, his hot cum spilling over and running down Andrew’s fingers. It lasted forever, until it abruptly stopped. Neil turned his head, tears of pleasure in his eyes, and buried his face in Andrew’s neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Andrew echoed. A thick fog was settling in his mind, warm and soothing. He wasn’t quite flying like Neil was, but it was close enough that Andrew felt connected to him beyond where their bodies were touching. This. This was why he wanted to keep their dynamic alive for years to come. It was theirs and precious, and so what if his brother didn’t understand it? 

They sank to the floor, holding each other, until Neil returned to him. 

After a while of deep silence, Neil’s eyes sparkled. “Next time, can you go harder? Make me really feel it?”

With a delighted chuckle, Andrew answered, “You know I can.”

“But will you?”

Pain was pain was pain was pain. But there was something almost divine about the kind you could choose for yourself.

“Yes,” Andrew promised.

Chapter Text

Andrew could imagine how different it was to watch an exy game from the goal contra from the other players who were in the melee, completely in the thick of the action, not that he had ever really given it any thought. 

He gave it serious thought now, though. 

There were less than ten minutes on the clock against the USC Trojans — the Championship Game. The Foxes had started the season abysmally bad but then clawed their way to the top, one game at a time, getting better for every one they played. They had started in September as a fractured team — they were one united force now, working like a well-oiled machine with a common goal. 

They were in the Championship Game because they had refused to bow down, and they were now a fair match to the Trojans. 

Normally, Andrew didn’t care, certainly hadn’t much last time, or the time before that, but this time it was his last and he’d grown soft when it came to the sport because Neil lived and breathed it like the junkie he was. It was bound to have rubbed off a little after three years. He pretended otherwise with almost every breath he breathed, but the unexplainable truth couldn’t be ignored. Why else was he choosing a career in the pros and not something within the field of his degree? 

Money wasn’t the only reason. 

The score was tight, too tight if you asked Andrew. He’d done his best, but during his water breaks, the Trojan strikers had taken advantage of his absence in the goal. Robin had blocked her fair share of shots, but she wasn’t the impenetrable wall Andrew was — not yet. 

She was well on her way, and Andrew wondered if his leaving would allow her to shine through, stepping into his shoes the way he’d intended her to when recruiting her. 

Three to three was far from ideal and might push them into overtime, possibly even shots on goal. Andrew’s track record was nearly flawless when it came to one-on-ones, both penalty and overtime, but that didn’t mean he wanted to pull on his energy’s last reserve. 

Neil kept looking back at him, had all game long,  almost as if he needed to make sure he was still there, that he hadn’t gone away yet, and every time Andrew had mouthed, focus on scoring junkie. Twice, Neil had. 

Underneath Neil’s orange jersey and his compression shirt, the ring on its chain Andrew had given him was pressed to his skin, warm like the rushing blood and adrenaline in his veins. Andrew knew it. Jewelries weren’t allowed during games, and many of the Foxes removed facial piercings, navel piercings, earrings, and rings, but Neil refused to take Andrew’s ring off. Since receiving it, he always taped it to his chest before games, but right now, the sweat from his exertion had probably disintegrated the adhesive material and Andrew could imagine the way his ring moved an inch to the left or to the right depending on what Neil was doing.

It centered Andrew to know it was on his junkie, and became the point of quiet in the storm. 

Aaron and Nicky were at their posts in front of the goal and no one could fault them their performance tonight. They’d given it their all, feeling the fleetingness of their own last game creeping under their skin. Aaron had been sharp and eagle-eyed, anticipating the USC strikers’ every move and making Andrew’s job in the goal a whole lot easier. And Nicky had exuberated more eagerness and ruthlessness than he had in a long time, going into every grapple and roughing with his whole body — it had cost him a yellow card, but what was a yellow card when he wasn’t planning on playing exy ever again? In a way, it was a trophy in itself, a mark attesting to his presence on the Court with the Foxes. Andrew knew he would carry it like a stamp of honor for the rest of his days. This one and the red card he’d gotten his second year. 

When only a single, measly minute remained, one of the Fox newbies engaged in a power play with Neil who received the ball only feet from the goalie box; instead of taking his shot, Neil passed it back to where the newbie had found a small gap in USC’s line of defense. 

She aimed. 

And scored. 

The crowd in the stands, on both sides of the fence, stood frozen for a moment. 

The fourth Foxes’ goal flashed on the scoreboard overhead. 

The fans in orange erupted in roar-like cheer. 

The goal replayed on repeat on the screens around the Court. 

Thirty seconds remained and the Trojans rushed to grab the ball, then hurried to stand in formation to get the game back in play. 

The referee blew her whistle. 

Twenty seconds. 

USC’s senior strikers served and ran up the Court with fire under their asses. They were spectacular, dancing around every Fox in their way, until they stood, unchecked, in front of Andrew. Two against one. 

Five seconds. 

One passed the ball to the other who took his shot. 

That was when the end-of-the-game buzzer blared and echoed, bouncing off the plexiglass walls. The final shot was taken too late. It was a perfect curved ball, and Andrew stepped slightly to the side to let it soar past his shoulder so it went in, because even after all this time, he was still a bit of an asshole — he found his shits and giggles where they lurked in plain sight. People made it too easy for him. 

The striker, in his dedication to score, was propelled forward by his own momentum, and he fell on the floor inside Andrew’s goalkeeper box, barely catching himself on his hands and avoiding sliding face first. 

Andrew smiled at him, and because he wasn’t a total asshole, he went over to him and extended his hand. He pulled the striker to his feet and found himself face to face with his new teammate come September. 

“Why’d you gotta be like that?” the red and yellow striker, Jackson, chuckled.

“Because I can.” 

“Screw you, Minyard,” Jackson laughed, letting go of Andrew’s hand. “Can’t wait to have you guarding our goal.” He motioned his hand between them. 

“If they let you play.”

Rookies rarely saw much time in the beginning. 

“Fingers crossed,” the striker said, grinning like he’d just won the Championship. “See you after the summer. Good game, tonight. Always a mixed pleasure going up against you.” 

Andrew nodded and watched his soon-to-be teammate jog away to join the rest of the Trojans, letting his Captain pull him into a bear hug. A blob of red and yellow had amassed near the starting point on the half-Court line. The mood was jovial coming from the losing players. They were better than most that way. 

It was nothing, of course, compared to the euphoria coming from the victorious Foxes; Neil’s smile was the most brilliant of the lot, and as he always did, he ran up to Andrew with stars in his eyes. “Congratulations,” he said with a playful smile. 

“I don’t care. Tell yourself.”

Neil laughed. “And they call me a liar.” He came closer and lowered his voice. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“We are if you want to. But it’s also okay to enjoy your victory with the others, if you want,” Andrew told his junkie. 

“I want to celebrate with you,” Neil promised. “After we’ve lifted the trophy.”

“I’m not lifting it,” Andrew deadpanned. 

Rolling his eyes, Neil spoke. “If you do, I’ll let you add a thing to our scene,” he offered seriously. “Of your own choosing.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, Josten.”

“Proof of how much I want to see you lift the trophy,” Neil pointed out. “And I trust you.”

Andrew swung his racquet over his shoulders. “Go play Captain. I’ll think about it.”

Neil beamed like he’d won this, in addition to the entire Championship. 

In the end, Andrew accepted the trophy from Neil when his junkie passed it to him. He didn’t lift it, but held it, feeling its weight and solidity. It was shiny, polished to perfection, and the Foxes’ victory had already been carved into the bottom — they’d all seen it happen off to the side of the Court where a master smith had been hired to do it.

NCAA Exy Championship Game, May 7th 2010.

Palmetto State University Foxes v. University of South California Trojans

4 – 3 

Andrew looked, and looked, and looked at the inscription, and unwanted feelings rushed to the surface. May 2010. A month and a half and he would be graduating. A month and a half and the best years of his life would be over. 

Neil’s eyes were fastened on him, Andrew could feel it, so he quickly passed the trophy along to Neil’s Vice-Captain. 

No one seemed to take offense at Neil for letting Andrew hold the damn trophy second, though technically the honor should have gone to the Vice-Captain. After all, everyone knew their victorious rise to the top couldn’t have been possible without his unfailing effort and talent in the goal. 

Neil leaned closer when everyone was looking away again, tracking the trophy’s journey from Fox to Fox. “I love you. Thank you.”

“For what?” Andrew asked dumbly.

“For everything you’ve done to bring us here.”

“I did it for you.”

“I know,” Neil areed. “And I love you for it.”

Two hours later, everyone was gathered down in the basement of Fox Tower, players, Court staff, cheerleaders, partners, and fans alike. The place was crammed. And loud. 

Aaron was swaying to some ridiculous pop song with his arms around Katelyn. It was time for Andrew to come to terms with the decision his twin had made years ago. The same way it was Aaron’s time to make peace with Andrew’s. It would make their parting all the easier, no more bad blood between them.

Greater miracles had happened after all.

Nicky was laughing with some of the younger Foxes by the drinks table with Erik’s arm around his waist, holding him close. Losing him to Germany was still a hard pill to swallow, but Andrew knew Nicky had found his first happiness there and he was deserving of going back to his true roots.

He wasn’t abandoning the twins.

Neil was sitting on one of the couches with Robin and a few others. He had a hand of cards in his grip, and four cards were on the coffee table in a straight line. The rest of the deck was neatly piled face down and poker chips had already been placed. Robin was bouncing in her seat; she could keep her face neutral in the most brutal of exy situations, and she gave nothing away in front of her enemies. But give her a deck of cards and stakes on the table and she became an open book, eager and overly enthusiastic. 

Wymack was standing a little to the side with Abby and Bee, his eyes roaming the room and smiling secretly at his kids. 

And Andrew — Andrew was dealing with the fear of the future sizzling inside him while gazing at his present ephemerally unfolding before him.

An hour later, Neil came up to him and planted himself so they were less than an inch apart. Neither had touched a single drop of alcohol in anticipation of their scene later. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Are you?” Andrew echoed. “You were having fun.”

“I was. But they’ll still be here tomorrow, and the day after.”

“So will I,” Andrew pointed out.

“Yes, but you can give me what I really need right now.”

It was good enough for Andrew.

They drove to the house in Columbia and Andrew revealed the extra point he wanted to add to the scene as payment for holding the trophy. He’d been thinking about it during the party. 

Neil laughed. “Technically, you didn’t lift the trophy, so I’m not sure it counts.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and changed lanes, speeding up to overtake a truck. “How about a compromise? I have something in mind, but you get to choose which one appeals the most?”

"Sounds fair.” Neil turned in his seat, his upper body pulling on the seatbelt, hitched a leg up, and folded it underneath him. 

“A plug or a cock ring,” was all Andrew said.

Neil made a show of thinking about it, squirming in his seat. Both options had their own merits, and both would add a layer of tantalising discomfort that clearly appealed to Neil. In the end, he said quietly, surely, “The plug. The big one.”

A rush of breath hitched in Andrew’s chest; watching that particular plug stretch Neil open and then get sucked inside was always one for the books. 

They ate a quick dinner at the diner they liked off the highway. Crashing because of low blood sugar was an unfortunate way to bring a scene to an unwanted but necessary stop. Neither wanted that.

At the house, Andrew took Neil’s mouth as soon as he had shut the front door behind them. They stumbled down the hallway, hands everywhere, mouths fused, and made it clumsily to the stairs. Step by step, Andrew began undressing Neil, starting with his shoes by kneeling in front of him and then his socks by wrenching them off Neil’s feet. As soon as he rose again, he spun them around and dragged Neil up the rest of the stairs, ridding him of his impeccable button-up and fancy belt.

By the time they entered the room, they’d barely taken full breaths and Neil was nude except for his underwear, orange, of course, because once a junkie always a junkie. “You too,” Neil panted, clawing at the fabric of Andrew’s own dress shirt.

“That’s for me to decide,” Andrew put forth. “I’ll do it if you’re good.”

Neil gasped a shallow breath. He went over to their dresser where one of their play boxes was stashed. He opened it and pulled the collar from it. “Should I, or do you want to do it?”

“Let’s say this is your last decision before we end the scene.”

With a headnod, Neil put it on.

By putting it on, the scene began. 

“I want you naked,” Andrew commanded. “Now. And then I want you kneeling.” There was a small and puffy pillow on the bed and Andrew grabbed it, placing it on the floor in the middle of the room. To his delight, by the time he put it down, Neil was in the nude and standing where he knew he was supposed to stand.

Neil knelt on the cushion and bared his throat to show the collar and his willing submission.

Their gazes locked and held.

“I love you too,” Andrew said, realizing he hadn’t returned it when Neil had told him during the trophy ceremony. Next, he fleshed out their scene, explaining each step of the way, asking for Neil’s consent after every point. 

Neil agreed to it all.

Andrew took a step towards his rabbit and in doing so, stepped into the scene. He undressed as well. Tonight, they would be equal in that regard.

Neil looked up at Andrew and it was with a mix of hope and submission shining in his eyes, as well as the bit of defiance Andrew always thrived on at the start of scenes. He was in his perfect kneeling-at-rest position, ass on his heels, back straight and proud, chin raised, and his hands curled into loose fists on his thighs. His cock was halfway hard, another state Andrew adored his junkie in at the beginning of play — he enjoyed watching and witnessing it grow fully stiff, loved being the one to make it hard.

Neil was perfect and always would be. 

It hit Andrew full force, threatening to bring him to his own knees when he thought of not having him by his side after the summer.

The exy season was over; they were rightfully Champions once more.

His graduation was only six weeks away with a week of final exams before that.

Their summer was planned and included soaking up every hour, minute, and second spent together.

And they already had a few scenes drawn up before it was time to say goodbye.

When Andrew banished the thoughts of all this and recentered his mind on being in the room, of only being in the room, one hundred percent aware and present the way especially intense scenes demanded, he found Neil’s expression changed. It was sad and devastated and scared.

Andrew had a job to do, a sub to take care of, and a man to love and cherish. 

He dropped to his knees slowly, without breaking eye contact. “Keep your eyes on me at all times, love, until I tell you otherwise,” he told Neil before leaning in and pressing their lips together sweetly. While their mouths touched, Neil kept his eyes on Andrew dutifully, and close like they were, Andrew could make out the dozens of variations of blue as well as the black pupils dilating slightly. He pulled back, thumbing Neil’s lips. “If you fail, you will not be punished, but I will remove something from the scene, and I decide what. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Yes,” Neil murmured.

Andrew smiled at his junkie’s willingness. “Can you give me your safewords?”

With a nod, Neil did. Green for go, I’m good. Yellow for pause, I need a moment. Red and ax for immediate stop. And for the first time since the flogging in the smaller gym at the Foxhole Court: I don’t want to for immediate stop and I never want to do that again.

“Good boy, I’m proud of you.”

Neil flushed under the praise, just like Andrew knew he would, a lovely faint pink coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Neil promised, that hopeful light back in his eyes with a vengeance.

“One last question. I need a number from one to ten for the pain. Can you give it to me?”

“Eight.” Eight was rare, but not unheard of. Neil clearly needed it tonight, his body almost vibrating when he said it. 

“I’ll give you eight, but you can lower it at any point. I will always respect that. You cannot, however, ask for higher,” Andrew explained, not that there was much higher to get to. “Not after we’ve begun. Now, give me your hands.”

Neil lifted them off his thighs and handed them over without question. Andrew traced the scarred knuckles and marred skin, amazed by his junkie’s resilience and strength, and Neil almost closed his eyes but caught himself at the last moment.

“Good, you’re doing so good remembering what I’ve told you.” Andrew seized his wrists and guided his hands and arms behind his back. There he twined Neil’s fingers. “Stay,” he commanded in his deeper voice, the one that helped both of them sink into the scene. “Keep them there. Don’t move.” He tested the hold, then added, “Good boy,” before rewarding Neil with another, deeper, kiss.

Neil whimpered.

And Andrew sighed his smile. He traced his index finger straight down the middle of Neil’s chest, between his pecs, over his navel, through his trimmed pubic hairs, and to the base of his dick. As a result, Neil’s cock gave an insistent twitch. He took a hold of it, wrapping his hand around the girth, and used his thumb to circle over the tip and across the slit.

Neil choked on his own spit and breathed through his nose shallowly.

“I’m going to treat your dick the way you need me to, the way you’ve asked me to,” Andrew announced, squeezing it in the palm of his hand and really pressing down on the slit. With his other hand, he cupped Neil’s balls with the same force. “You have your safewords.”

Neil gasped mutely, mouth falling open. His eyes fluttered but didn’t leave Andrew. Then he muttered, “Green. Green.”

“I thought so.” Andrew removed his hand and gave the cockhead a light slap; it was the final instrument that rendered Neil rock solid. Andrew looked at his sub’s cock, marveled at it, then looked back at Neil who had not taken his eyes off him. “What was it that did it?” he asked, running the nails of his index and middle finger from root to crown. “Is it the kneeling, being at my mercy? Was it me calling you a good boy? Or was it the slap?”

Neil didn’t say.

“Answer me,” Andrew ordered.

“The slap,” Neil admitted.

“Okay, then,” Andrew said. He slapped Neil’s cock harder but not too hard. Not yet. Gradually building up to it was what Neil enjoyed the most. “You like it when I hurt your dick? When I make you scream?” Andrew stood back up while Neil nodded. “I like it when you give mine pleasure,” he added. “Open up.”

Neil obediently opened up.

“Stick your tongue out.”

Neil stuck his tongue out and Andrew plopped his hard cock down on it without finesse. “Tonight, I’m here to hurt you, and you’re here to pleasure me. We both get what we want.” He said the last word as he rocked his hips forward and forced his dick to the back of Neil’s mouth. “Suck my dick, Neil. And make it sloppy.”

If there was one thing Neil knew how to do, it was giving sloppy blowjobs with messy spit and not too much friction in order for Andrew to last longer. Bit by bit, Neil took what Andrew gave him, wordlessly begging for more, trying to take the length in further with every one of Andrew’s presses until the head was lodged in his throat. Drool was leaking out his mouth around the intrusion.

“Swallow,” Andrew almost barked.

And so Neil did, his throat constricting and working Andrew’s dick. It felt sinfully good, and pleasure surged through his veins with crackling intensity. When he was a little too close, Andrew fisted Neil’s hair and wrenched his head off him. “Stand.”

Neil stumbled to his feet with Andrew’s hand still in his hair and steadying him. “Green,” he said, anticipating Andrew’s imminent question. “I want you to hurt me. I promise. I want what we have planned.”

“Hurt yourself,” Andrew challenged wickedly. “Show me how you like your balls treated. I want them rosy and primed for action.”

Neil hesitated but eventually sneaked his hand between his legs where he pinched his sack. He couldn’t hold back his moan.

“You can do better than that.”

It was the truth; Neil started crushing his balls in his hand, breathing through the discomfort that made his cock throb visibly.

“More. Neil.”

With a deep, but shaky, breath, Neil lifted his dick and pressed it to his abdomen, then slapped his own testicles. He wasn’t being gentle about it.

“Again. Give me ten.”

At the end of ten, Neil was sagging, so Andrew gently helped him keep on his feet by holding him, telling him eye contact was no more needed.

Eventually, Neil took a step back, breathing heavily but working on getting it under control. “That was — that was; it was good, Andrew.”

Andrew surged forward and tipped up on his toes; his hands automatically went to Neil’s neck, fingers digging into the tender flesh there, the tips of slightly overgrown auburn curls in Neil’s nape tickling the tips of Andrew’s fingers. He took his mouth in a wild, centering kiss he was barely able to slow down and break so he could say breathlessly, “I love you, I love you so fucking much, Neil. And I’ll miss you every day. But I’m yours, I’m so fucking yours, and I’ll never go anywhere far without you. You own all of me. I love you, okay?” The words rushed out of him, an avalanche, revealing a deep need inside him to make sure his junkie knew they were endgame. He tapped the ring resting on Neil’s breastbone where it had been all game. He stole another kiss, this one wet and salty because tears had begun streaming down Neil’s cheeks. “Do you still want our scene tonight?”

A no would be as satisfying as a yes, so long as he got to treat Neil like the rightful champion he was.

“Yes,” Neil murmured. He made no move to dry his tears, rooted to the spot.

“You still want me to wreck you?”

“Yes,” Neil agreed, his eyes and body begging. “Green.”

Andrew nodded. “Okay.”

“It’s green,” Neil reiterated seriously.

Andrew took a step back to look at the man he loved, the man who trusted him with this level of control, the man he could toy with and take his pleasure in — the man he never wanted to live without and who truly owned every part of him. “Okay,” he repeated, stepping back into the necessary headspace needed to go through what they had planned. He reached out to tug Neil’s balls until he heard a soft hiss, then jerked his hard dick that made Neil stumble a step forward. “On your knees, rabbit, and crawl to the bed.”

Neil knelt and dropped on all fours. He crawled.

He didn’t crawl very often — not as often as Andrew did, who found the act both degrading and peaceful — and Andrew went nearly feral watching him.

The muscles in Neil’s upper back rolled every time he moved an arm and put pressure on his hands, and one shoulder blade, then the other, popped. Not to mention the way his heavy balls and cock hung from his body. Andrew couldn’t wait for what they had agreed to do to them.

Neil climbed onto the bed and crawled the rest of the way to the middle of the mattress.

“Present yourself.”

Neil widened the stance of his knees and fell forward so his right cheek was flat to the bed. He rested on his forearms, back arched and ass fully presented. He was a sight for sore eyes, a sight to bring even the strongest of men to their downfall.

Andrew joined him, coming up on his knees behind him, their lube and their most bulbous plug — they both knew how viciously it pressed against the prostate with even the slightest movement — in his hands.

The loudness of the first crack of his palm against the exposed skin of his junkie’s ass came as a surprise, even to Andrew himself. Neil gasped and bucked away. “Nuh-uh,” Andrew admonished. “Stay still.”

Three more spanks, distributed evenly, echoed in their bedroom between Neil’s whimpers of pleasure-pain. Then Andrew opened him up with his fingers, perfunctory, methodical, before pressing the large plug to his rabbit’s hole.

“Fuck, fuck, holy fuck,” Neil babbled, fisting the sheets. 

“Relax,” Andrew urged, caressing Neil’s flank with his free hand. “Relax for me.”

Eventually, the flared base was nestled in place, the rest of the toy gone from view. Neil sighed. Sweat had broken out down his back and Andrew traced his spine to feel the dampness. He kissed each dimple at the bottom, the beginning of Neil’s crack, and the spot of skin right above the base of the plug.

Neil relaxed fully.

And was barely allowed to enjoy it for half a minute.

Andrew shuffled over to the headboard and reclined against it, getting comfortable and slipping his legs under Neil’s prostrated form who lifted enough to make room. “You know what to do,” he taunted, rubbing one of Neil’s nipples with his big toe. “How I want you.”

Neil nodded with color sitting high on his cheeks. He crawled up Andrew’s body, kissing his left leg as he went from ankle bone to hip juncture. When he was level with him, he turned ninety degrees and got in position —

— draped over Andrew’s lap with his ass in perfect reach. He spread his feet and cushioned his head on his arms.

Helping him, Andrew pulled his dick between his legs and rested it gently on his thigh, the dusky pink tip engorged; he gave it the lightest of light taps — a prelude.

Neil reacted as though Andrew had blasted him with lightning.

Good. Andrew liked his rabbit responsive. 

Andrew set to work, pinching the underside of Neil’s dick at uneven intervals. He reached the head and flicked it where it separated from the shaft. Neil wailed silently, holding his reactions back.

That wouldn’t do.

Really wouldn’t do.

So Andrew forcefully slapped his junkie’s balls.

Sound finally escaped Neil fully, long and plaintive, but also satisfyingly pleading for more without actually saying anything. 

Andrew continued, relentless, until the skin was warm to the touch and reddened underneath the light dusting of hair.

Cries left Neil in gulped gasps. He was starting to squirm and shiver, and a new round of flop sweats beaded forth, slicking his skin and giving it a shine.

Andrew slapped his dick again, and again, and again.

And it twitched and jerked again, and again, and again.

“Remember, Neil. You are not allowed to come before I give you permission,” Andrew reminded him silkily when he read Neil’s telltale signs. He gently cupped Neil’s balls, cradling them like they were a precious and delicate baby bird, then flicked them harshly along the seam. “No… coming.”

Neil yelped in pain but managed to nod so Andrew could see it. His next breath came out shaky as he felt Andrew’s fingertips dance tantalizingly up his length; he tensed in unmasked anticipation. So naturally, Andrew waited before slapping the head, holding it in his other hand and immediately squeezing it after.

Wetting a finger, Andrew started rubbing the little V under the glands next and he didn’t relent when Neil cried out.

Only a safeword would make Andrew stop, and so far, Neil hadn’t given the slightest impression that he wanted to use one.

Neil’s thighs trembled under the raw assault of pleasure, and he twisted and turned but couldn’t escape, not with the way Andrew was holding him down with an arm pressing on his lower back. He thrashed miserably when Andrew pulled back right on his brink of orgasm. “Andrew, fuck, Andrew,” Neil pleaded.

Andrew resumed the torture on Neil’s dick and delighted in the sound of his rabbit panting with the confusing mix of pain and pleasure. When the whimpering became too distracting, however, Andrew tapped Neil’s lips who parted them to suck two digits in his mouth.

Suction teased Andrew’s fingers. He relaxed and dug a fingernail into the slit of Neil’s cock; teeth clamped down and hurt like a bitch, but that was on Andrew who had essentially given Neil a bit. 

In retaliation, Andrew made sure to fuck the slit with his nail as deep and roughly as he could. Maybe, one day, Neil would let him use a sounding rod on him? Andrew thought his junkie might like that — a rod fucking his dick and three fingers thrusting against his prostate. 

Maybe. 

It was worth having a talk about it. 

Later. 

Two fingers remained in Neil’s mouth but the teeth eased their iron hold when Andrew took his other hand off him entirely. “Neil?” Andrew murmured. “I’m going to spank you till you’re red, okay?”

Neil mumbled okay around the intrusion. 

“You don’t have to count them. You only have to feel them.”

Neil nodded and sighed when Andrew removed his fingers. 

Andrew took a moment before getting to work to admire the dripping, leaking mess Neil was making on his thigh. Every pinch and every slap had pushed a new drop of precum from the slit of his cock. 

Then —

The first slaps were warm ups. Surface hits that barely saw the blood rushing to the skin. Neil’s firm flesh bounced and Andrew couldn’t help the way his cock responded by twitching in interest. 

Quickly, he upped the pace and deepened the strikes, and it didn’t take long for Neil to cry out his discomfort; his cheeks were red, but only when the color was that of a blooming rose did Andrew relent, going back to Neil’s balls.

Five minutes later, Andrew took both hands off his rabbit and whispered, “You’re doing so good for me, Neil. Let’s take a breather and then we’ll move on to the next part.”

Neil silently sobbed his agreement. He was shaking uncontrollably.

Sure in his movements, Andrew gathered him up in his arms and held him against his chest, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. “I’m right here, and I’m so proud of you. I’m so fucking mesmerized by you. You’re amazing.”

Neil nodded with a tremble Andrew fiercely felt in his own body.

“What do you need?” Andrew asked. “Anything.”

“Can you — can you hold me; there?” Neil asked, voice wrecked in the wake of his screaming.

It was a no-brainer; of course Andrew could do that. He cupped Neil’s cock with the kind of touch that was only soothing — not too hard and therefore painful, and not too light and therefore frustrating. “You need some water too,” he added. With a bit of contortion on his part, he fetched the glass with its straw from his nightstand. “Slowly. Take your time. We’ve got time.”

Neil drank in tiny sips.

“And let me know when you’re ready again.”

Neil was quiet for a little while, until he whispered, “Yellow.”

Andrew’s heart sped up and he took his junkie’s face in his hands, turning it to him and looking into blue eyes. “Neil?”

“Can you take the plug out? It hurts,” Neil explained. “Not in a good way.”

By looking at him, no one would have guessed Neil was actively in pain, which was exactly why Andrew knew to take it seriously — his rabbit took his pleasure with pain, but if he asked to stop something, it meant that pleasure had left the equation, and that was unacceptable to Andrew.

The scene was for Neil.

Not against him.

Andrew looked Neil deeply in the eyes and nodded. “Thank you for telling me,” he said seriously. He also knew how Neil had struggled to communicate his needs and limitations in the beginning — they both had, and they’d learned from it. “Can you bend over? I’ll be careful.”

Neil moved and bent over. It wasn’t like it had been earlier when he’d presented himself. It was guarded, almost shy.

“Bear down, and push, love.”

Slowly, and together, they worked the plug free and Andrew threw it on the floor, out of sight. He would wash it later, maybe not before tomorrow.

“Neil? Yes or no to me soothing you with my tongue?” Andrew asked before Neil moved from his position. “You can say no.”

Neil didn’t say no, he said, “Yes.”

Broad strokes of Andrew’s tongue brought relief to Neil’s stretched rim and Andrew felt the muscles relax. He reveled in this tiny moment of tenderness before the next part of their celebratory scene.

At length, Neil wiggled free. “I’m green again.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. And you?”

“Green too.”

Neil smiled his blinding smile, the one that had enchanted Andrew from the start. “Then I suggest you go back to wrecking me.”

“You’re being brattier than usual,” Andrew noted.

“Well, I am a champion, you know.”

Andrew mmmed. Then, “Suppose you are. But in here, you’re mine to use.”

“Then use me,” Neil challenged cheekily. Oh yeah, he was green alright, and Andrew pushed him down roughly.

“Careful what you wish for, rabbit.”

Chapter Text

“You’re such a brute sometimes,” Neil teased Andrew from where he was lying on his back underneath him.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Andrew quipped.

“Oh, I never said that,” Neil admitted, pushing off the mattress to grind his hard cock against Andrew’s. 

Andred tutted at him and pinned him back to the mattress with both hands against his hip bones. “You’ll stay right there, not touching your hard dick, and I’ll get the two last things. Okay?”

“Green.”

Andrew lifted off his rabbit and went to their play box. He quickly found the Wartenberg wheel underneath small paddles, then found the second, bigger device he wanted to use under his jeans since it didn’t fit in the box. This second object he dropped on the floor where Neil couldn’t see it, before climbing back into bed.

He showed Neil the wheels made out of stainless steel and sporting wickedly pointy pins.

Andrew remembered the first time he’d gotten it right, finding the line Neil loved treading, not to mention the great shudder that had passed through Neil as the pins had rolled up the vein on the underside of his dick, part pain and part pleasure. The expression of rapture on his face as they’d both discovered the power of that particular tool had been glorious, and empowering. 

"It's sharp, Neil.”

“I know. I was there when we bought it.” His tone wasn’t the one he used when he wanted to provoke Andrew into action, it was soft and reassuring. 

“We haven’t tried it yet.”

Neil looked at him with tenderness in his eyes. “We decided to wait for this moment.”

“I know.”

“It’s still eight, Andrew. I promise.”

“We won tonight.” 

“We did. And this,” Neil gestured between them and at the device in Andrew’s hand, “is our reward.”

Our reward. 

Because yes, it was theirs. Neil would be the one to feel it, but Andrew would be the one to make him feel it. They were in this together. 

“Then give me your hand first,” Andrew instructed. He received Neil’s right hand as fast as Neil could extend it, and he carefully, at first anyway, ran the three rows of spikes along his junkie’s palm. 

Neil almost giggled. “It tickles.”

“Then I’m not doing it right,” Andrew contemplated. 

“You need to press harder.”

“Smartass, I know that.” In retaliation to Neil’s cheek, he pressed down and grinned victoriously when Neil hissed under his breath. “I think I’ve got it,” he taunted before rolling the pins further up to press against Neil’s wrist where his veins and nerves cluttered. Then he continued up his arm and made sure to press a bit more down when he invaded the inside of Neil’s elbow. 

“Holy fuck, shit. That hurts,” Neil announced, squirming. He wasn’t squirming away from the contact, just shifting around to distract himself from the pain. 

“Imagine this level on your balls,” Andrew prepared him. “On your dick. On your slit,” he warned. “On your asshole. Maybe pressing in a bit to where you’re vulnerable and the skin is thin.”

“God yes, I want that.”

“Neil?”

“Eight,” he quickly said, understating. “Green. So green. Get on with it.”

When Andrew ran the wheels over Neil’s nipples, denting the peaked nubs and the skin right around them, Neil’s mouth opened in a silent, breathless indication of pain. “Andrew,” he pleaded next. 

Momentarily, Andrew stopped what he was doing so he could kiss his junkie and ground him. And just as quickly and unexpectedly, he slapped Neil’s dick. “This one is going next.” 

“I love you, I love you so fucking much. Hurt me.”

“Hurt you where?”

Instead of answering, Neil gripped himself and positioned his dick for easier access. Andrew, however, wouldn’t have that, and he batted Neil’s hand away. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”

“No. But you also didn’t not give me permission,” Neil bratted, testing Andrew’s limits the way he sometimes did. 

“I’ll gag you if you keep this insolence up,” Andrew assured his rabbit, and he would do it too.

Neil pressed his lips together in an exaggerated show.

Andrew placed their two pillows under the little of Neil’s back to elevate all the parts of him he wanted to torture. Neil laughed when Andrew gripped his ankles and guided his feet far apart. “Trust me, you won’t be laughing for long.”

“I do trust you,” Neil promised.

The first trail of the pins traced Neil’s abs and down the short hairs leading to the base of his dick. He didn’t press hard, but he did as soon as the wheels reached his junkie’s cock. Then he pushed down so a good two dozens of small dents were left on Neil’s sensitive skin.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck,” Neil chanted through gritted teeth. He nearly wailed when Andrew passed the spikes over his slit and made sure to repeat the motion several times. When he continued down the underside of Neil’s dick and made it to his balls, Neil was sweating. When he jammed the pins into the skin behind Neil’s balls without breaking the skin, Neil choked on a scream. And when Andrew rolled the device across his taint, Neil’s whole body sank into the mattress and the pillows. 

Neil left his mind to take up residence solely in his body where Andrew wanted him to be. 

“Take some deep breaths,” Andrew instructed before parting Neil’s ass and blowing puffs of air on his rim. “This will hurt.”

“I want it to,” Neil panted. “You know I want it to.”

With a grin, Andrew used the spikes against the furled skin of Neil’s hole, and it was possible Neil had underestimated the power of the device. His hole fluttered and clenched, trying to protect itself from the onslaught, but Andrew wouldn’t let it; he sucked a finger into his mouth and fucked it into Neil to loosen him up.

This went on for a while, until Andrew couldn’t anymore. He loved giving Neil the pain he asked for, but he had his own limits to be mindful of. Instead, he took a few deep breaths and let Neil settle back into his mind. 

Neil lifted his head and smiled at Andrew. That was good.

That was very good.

Andrew could proceed.

“Head off the mattress, handsome,” he instructed, velvety sweet and deceivingly tender. He helped slide Neil down the bed and into position. “From now, you won’t be able to speak. You know your non-verbal safe-signs?”

“Yes,” Neil assured Andrew. “I keep my hands in fists, and when you ask me, I answer you. One finger is red, two fingers is yellow, three fingers is green.”

“I’ll check your fists throughout. If you panic, or forget your signs, and you push against me with your hands, I’ll stop immediately and take that as a sign. We’ll talk about what happened and I decide if we continue.”

“Works for me,” Neil agreed. He carefully and in plain sight, curled his hands into two fists and placed them on his chest.

Andrew went to stand behind Neil’s head and gave himself as long as he desired to look at Neil’s entire body on display for him. It was all for him. His runner's legs stretched out. His uniquely gorgeous face turned upside down as he waited for Andrew to make a move. His peaked nipples and cut torso. His leaking cock making a mess of the skin of his stomach. It was — almost more than Andrew could bear. 

He took a step closer so Neil had to lift his head an inch in order to still be able to look at Andrew’s face. Andrew’s own cock was hard and heavy, his balls tight and hanging full, but it wasn’t que time for his release yet. If Neil could endure level-eight pain, then Andrew could surely survive a little longer. 

Neil’s throat stretched when Andrew put two fingers to his junkie’s forehead and pushed his head back down; next, he traced the long column of his jugular and chuckled when the air in Neil’s lungs stuttered. 

“Do not open yet.”

Neil kept his lips in a tightly sealed line, even when Andrew bent his knees and nudged the wet head of his dick against them, painting them slowly with his precum. Andrew proceeded in this fashion for a good minute, content to only stimulate the very tip of his cock. 

“Okay, you can open up,” Andrew allowed. He took a step back and adjusted the grip he had on himself. 

He then let Neil lick and suck the head at his own pace. 

For now. 

Andrew’s need to thrust inside Neil’s throat was maddening and urgent, and he wouldn’t last long. He stroked Neil’s cheek before saying, “I’m going to push in now and you’re going to lie there and take it.” He cupped Neil’s chin to ready the perfect angle. “I won’t stop until I’ve come.”

Neil nodded as best he could and kept his head in position when Andrew let go of him. He opened his mouth and opened his throat, and Andrew slammed inside in one long thrust. 

Andrew kept it shallow to begin with, letting Neil get used to it and to the stretch of his throat and the blood flowing to his head. He made it easy for Neil to push him away if he wanted or needed to, but as more time passed and Neil simply took it, the less Andrew felt inclined to being gentle or considerate. 

He got a steady rhythm going, gradually increasing the pace and depth until Neil could hold the whole length of him in his throat with more or less ease. “Just like that,” he praised. 

The faster he went, the more Neil gargled, and the more Andrew’s balls slapped against his junkie’s forehead. His cock muffled Neil’s grunts and groans but it couldn’t stop his squirming. 

In the end, and with both hands gripping the sides of Neil’s head, when Neil started convulsing the muscles of his throat, Andrew lost. 

“I won’t last long,” Andrew warned honestly. He’d been on the verge since watching Neil on his hands and knees taking the large plug, and then since watching his cock jerk under his slaps, followed by his junkie’s reactions to the pinwheel. And now, with the wet heat and Neil’s suction and convulsions, it was game over.

Neil smiled around him.

“Close your throat,” Andrew hastily ordered, retreating enough for only the head to stay inside. “And don’t swallow a single drop. Keep it. Don’t waste it.” He jerked himself roughly, needing only a few strokes before he spilled his cum onto Neils tongue. He waited until his rabbit had no more to give, then pulled out and admired the way his release pooled in Neils mouth. “Good job,” he told Neil, caressing his cheek again. “You’ll be allowed to swallow when I tell you you can.”

Neil nodded upside down.

Only two points left on the agenda.

“Get on all fours.”

With his own pleasure out of the way, and his cum safely stored in Neil’s mouth, Andrew could progress to the last parts with a clear and level head. 

Neil scrambled to obey, wobbling slightly as he flipped onto his stomach, moved up so his head no longer hung off the mattress, and slowly raised himself so he was on his hands and knees. 

Meanwhile, Andrew rounded the bed to pick up the device he’d dropped at the foot end. “We’ve discussed this, and I’m going to use our rubber flogger. Still green?” he asked, coming into Neil’s periphery and carding a gentle hand through his hair.

“Green,” Neil mumbled around the cum in his mouth, adding its non-verbal signal to make sure.

Andrew loved him. Fuck, did he love him, and he kissed his closed lips once before returning to Neil’s backside. He swung the heavy tails through the air in a perfect, controlled arc. After years of practice — first on pillows and the punching bag at the Foxhole Court, and then on his willing junkie — he was seldom displeased with his own movements. The rubber sang through the air as it soared, and Neil gasped and tensed — that was par for the course, the insane anticipation heightening his senses and dread.

The first strike landed with a heavy thud on Neil’s ass; Andrew knew personally how they stung like hell and was proud when Neil didn’t flinch, just screeched without opening his mouth. The sound of the flogger flying through the air a second time preceded the same thud, but on Neil’s other cheek.

It yielded the same result.

Andrew landed blow after blow after blow, and gradually saw Neil’s surrender. But before he could allow it to happen, he commanded firmly after halting his swings, “Push your dick between your legs, I need access.”

Neil hesitated. 

And Andrew was there in a heartbeat. “Color, Neil?” In response, Neil uncurled three fingers for green. He then did what Andrew had told him to do. 

“Breathe through your nose, love. On my count of three.” Andrew aimed at Neil’s balls and the tip of his cock Neil was so carefully making accessible. “Three, two, one.”

Neil’s entire body jerked and fought and submitted to the pain. Andrew went back to his ass and allowed Neil to let go of his dick and let it hang naturally. 

Minutes passed. 

Or was it hours?

Seconds? 

Until Andrew stopped and dropped the flogger to the floor at his feet where it pooled messily, the tails landing end over end without reason or rhyme.

He needed to feel how warm Neil’s skin was. 

So he did. 

Gently at first, a simple caress, but even that seemed to drive Neil into the dark realm of pain. He smoothed his palm over the heated area and wondered if his lips would have the same effect. 

They did; kiss after kiss after kiss. 

“Neil?” Andrew asked. “You’re perfect. And you’re doing so good for me.” He parted his junkie’s cheeks and kissed his hole where the pin needles had abused the rim. 

Andrew righted himself. 

“Prepare yourself. This won’t be fun.”

He slapped Neil’s ass. Hard. The sting of impact spread from the middle of his palm that bore the biggest brunt of it to his fingertips; it was nothing, of course, to the sting Neil felt on top of his already reddened ass. He did another. And another. Until he was sure Neil was sobbing around the load in his mouth and with tears down his cheeks. “Try to fall into it,” he encouraged when Neil squirmed ceaselessly, shifting his weight from one knee to the other, and back. Neil tried, but for some reason, he seemed unable to. 

Maybe the pain was too much.

Andrew took a break to let the skin recover a smidge. 

Neil’s ass was more red than Andrew was used to seeing it, and although a small niggle of discomfort roamed the far reaches of his mind, primal satisfaction was the predominant emotion. He had marked his junkie. He had provided what Neil had asked for. Andrew had coaxed Neil’s beautiful cries and whimpers out of him, and he had sent him flying, reducing him to the shell of a man. And Neil? Neil would remember this moment for the next few days to come every time he sat down, as per request.

Andrew smiled at this, taking a step closer and running his index finger down each marked cheek. The skin was burning and Neil hissed while trying to move away from the light touch. Andrew clacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and chastised his junkie. “Don’t move, gorgeous. I haven’t given you permission.”

This time, Neil was too out of it to quip back. Instead, he whined pitifully, a high-pitched rumble at the back of his throat. Andrew swatted his rear for it, though not too hard. “None of that. You should thank me instead. I’ve colored your ass the way you’ve been begging me to for weeks.” He sighed, and softened his tone. “You should see yourself, Neil. You’re a piece of art.”

Neil still had enough wits about him to murmur a garbled, “Thank you.” 

The sudden and heavy beat of ladened silence at the end of his two words caught Andrew’s attention, and he heard what Neil held back.

It wouldn’t do. Neil shouldn’t censor himself. Not now, not here.

They’d discussed it at length after the first time it had happened, and Neil had explained where he was coming from and what it did to him in the moment, and after taking it in and turning it over, Andrew had given his okay. The ball was in Neil’s court, so to speak.

Except, it seemed it wasn’t.

So Andrew momentarily stepped out of the scene and walked over to Neil so he could see his face. He cupped the man’s cheek and tried to gain his full attention with a gripping hand in his auburn curls too. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You can say it. I’m green.”

Neil blinked at him owlishly. 

“Swallow,” Andrew said. “Now.”

For some reason, Neil shook his head and tears trickled down his face; Andrew wiped them from existence.

“It’s up to you, love. Do you want to?”

A tiny, barely-there nod came before an even smaller, “Yes.” Then Neil swallowed and took a deep breath through his freed mouth. “Yes… sir.”

There it was.

Andrew’s chest swelled with pride, and it was unexpected. It was a different kind of pride than when Neil took whatever Andrew gave him during play. He slowly re-entered the scene again, taking Neil with him. “Now, be a good boy and we’ll do the last part. Color?”

“Green… sir.”

Andrew smiled wickedly. “On the Court, tonight, you were in charge, and you were radiant. A Champion and I’m so proud of you, rabbit. Here, though, you’re mine. I’m in control,” he reminded Neil. “I make every decision. Your job is to obey.”

Neil nodded and Andrew noticed the way his arms were shaking. The game and holding this position on his arms and knees was getting to him, and since Andrew wasn’t unduly cruel, he said, “Forehead to the mattress, arms stretched in front of you.”

With a sigh, Neil shifted, and holy fuck, the arch in his back was divine. Andrew needed to see it from a better vantage point. He kissed his sub’s temple before going back to standing behind him. Neil was a piece of art, an offering Andrew couldn’t refuse — ass in the air, cock hanging between his legs, partially obscured by his balls, and ass red like the rising sun. “Spread your legs as far as you can. I want full access to your pretty little hole. It’s begging to be devoured.”

Neil grunted and pushed his knees farther apart, revealing his hole. Andrew parted his cheeks just enough to spit on the rim, and the glob trailed down to Neil’s lightly haired ballsack. 

Neil shivered.

“Oh, you liked that,” Andrew taunted in response. He spat on him again, watching the way Neil’s body further surrendered.

It was a fine line to walk; Neil wasn’t heavily into degrading acts or words, but Andrew was, both receiving and giving. Trial and error had brought them to this point, to where it turned Neil on instead of triggering him. His hard limit was still name-calling, whereas Andrew was opening up to it during his subbing scenes where he sank into the strictly private situational humiliation. 

Thinking about the graduation reward scene they had planned for him in six weeks had Andrew’s cock twitching; it tried to harden though it was too early for that so soon after his climax. He pastered himself against Neil’s exposed backside, letting his soft cock and coarse pubes caress him. Then he issued the next order. “Neil. Take yourself in hand and make yourself feel good. Only two rules: warn me when you’re close, and no coming.”

Neil snaked his hand underneath his body and started playing with himself.

“You can do better than that,” Andrew told him. “Fuck your slit, squeeze the head, and let me hear you.”

“Fuck,” Neil cried out when he started doing just that. The moment he pressed down on his slit, he gasped and said, “It’s too much.”

“It’s not,” Andrew chuckled. “You’ve been through worse,” he added, though he knew Neil’s recently tortured dick must be extra sensitive.

Thinking about it, Andrew dropped to his knees and licked Neil’s crack from taint to tailbone before thrusting the tip of his tongue inside his junkie’s hole. He hummed to himself.

Neil kept his whines up and yelped, but didn’t stop his own ministrations. “God, god,” he sobbed. Andrew smirked, then pinched Neil’s balls and tugged them away from his body by the skin. “I need to. I have to. Andrew,” he begged Andrew in a broken voice, wrecked. “Can I come, sir?”

The honorific was coming easier to him now.

Andrew mumbled against Neil’s asshole, “You can hold it a bit more. Start fucking your fist.” He got back up on his feet and admired his junkie’s perfect form and obedience. Then he saw it, the moment Neil was about to lose the battle. 

“I can’t, I’m too close.”

“Let go of yourself,” Andrew growled, dropping urgently to his knees again, ignoring the harsh thump his fall made against the hardwood floor. He pulled Neil’s cock back between his legs and took the crown into his mouth, sucking and sucking, and sucking. 

Neil exploded.

Andrew closed his throat and received everything his junkie’s pent-up body gave him, keeping it on his tongue, warm and thick and bitter. When nothing more came out of his striker’s softening dick, he stood and let a thin line trickle down on Neil’s crack — just a hint more of degradation, fucking it inside him for good measure. He then walked over to Neil’s front, grabbed the collar in his right hand, and pulled him upright. With his thumb and index finger, he pried his jaw open.

As soon as it was, as soon as Neil helplessly let his mouth be opened for him, Andrew transferred his cum. He used his other hand to rub the substance into his tongue, pushing some of it down his throat. “Keep it and beg me. Beg me, Neil.”

More garbled than before, Neil begged for permission to swallow.

“On one last condition. Squeeze your balls one last time. I want you screaming.”

Neil nodded, obeyed, and screamed with his lips sealed.

“Swallow,”

Neil swallowed and collapsed. He was done for.

And so was Andrew. Sure, he was half-hard again and could technically take care of himself over Neil’s boneless form, but he didn’t want to. Neil was a mass of useless limbs on their bed and Andrew needed to tend to him. He wasn’t fooled by his junkie’s blissed-out expression — a drop was all too possible after a scene this intense, and Andrew would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to prevent it. Not to mention, he had the risk of his own drop to ward off.

He unbuckled the collar and removed it.

Then he climbed into bed and gathered Neil in his arms, and though he knew the striker wouldn’t have the brain space to hear all of it, he started speaking. “You’re amazing Neil. You were so good and I’m so proud of you. You’re always so beautiful when you submit to me, but tonight you were stunning, each step of the way.”

⁎

Neil hadn’t known he’d need to cry so much.

It had been buried deep so he could focus on the Championship Game and on bringing his Foxes to another hard-earned trophy they deserved.

But in Andrew’s arms, ass on fire, head in the clouds, he cried. A million emotions grew wings and took flight in a chaotic swarm, blasting apart Neil’s composure, bursting the dam wide open. The feeling of Andrew’s thumbs ghosting over the tears rolling down his cheeks just made more coming forth.

It was an odd thing, crying while still floating. 

Neil was reaching some sort of precipice, borne on the power of his surrender and submission, and he was unable to move a single part of his body, letting Andrew lean back with him in his arms and position them so he was curled inwards with Andrew curled around him on their sides, face to face.

Andrew kissed his nose, his wet cheeks, his forehead, allowing Neil this moment of release in silence. He pulled the comforter over them with a bit of difficulty, then carefully reached down to touch his ass, taking stock of its state.

Crying felt good. Cathartic. Like he was cleansing out months of fears and worries. 

The Championship game and the last practices with his team.

Andrew’s safewording after Aaron had insulted him, followed by his punishment for using it wrongly.

Andrew’s upcoming exams.

Andrew’s upcoming graduation.

The cousins leaving Neil to stay behind all alone.

Andrew going to a professional team where Neil couldn’t follow him.

Their last summer together before life would change, yet again.

Everything flowed out of him in great sobs that shook both him and Andrew.

Neil let all the pain go.

And he embraced the joy the safety in Andrew’s arms brought him. 

Embarrassment didn’t even factor in the equation, because Andrew would never see his tears as weakness.

Neil hadn’t known he’d needed to cry so much.

Time passed, and eventually the tears dried up. Neil floated back down to earth and he landed on solid ground. Andrew felt the shift — he always did — and kissed his neck. “It hit you hard,” he commented gently, burying his hand in Neil’s hair.

Neil’s heart drummed against Andrew’s chest. “I didn’t know,” he murmured. “I didn’t.”

Maybe he should have, or maybe this was better.

Maybe this was the perfect way.

“You fell into it beautifully,” Andrew murmured back, keeping his voice quiet.

Neil laughed wetly and he loved his life. He loved their life.

“Are you hungry?” Andrew asked after a spell of silence.

Neil laughed again, because in that moment, hunger made itself known ferociously. He’d eaten the snacks at the Foxes’ afterparty, but it clearly hadn’t been enough. He’d eaten at the diner too, but clearly the scene had zapped the meal from existence. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Stay here,” Andrew said.

As if Neil could move.

A few weeks ago, Andrew had invested in a small fridge for their room. Going down the stairs to get fresh food and going back upstairs took too long, and both were usually loath to leave the other for that amount of time. Now, Andrew kissed Neil’s parched lips and rolled out of bed. 

Neil watched him open the fridge and pull out sealed cut fruit and two granola bars. He added a bottle of water and Neil’s favorite chocolate.

Back in bed, he fed everything to Neil who greedily ate it all. And once full, Neil was finally able to take control back over his limbs and shift so he was lying on his back. Wrong move; he hissed and immediately returned to his initial position against Andrew.

“I need to treat that,” Andrew announced. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and withdrew their cream. “Can you lie on your stomach for me?”

Neil nodded and rolled the other way. He sighed into his pillow cushioning his face when Andrew settled down on the backs of his thighs and smeared the semi-cool cream. There was then a moment of mortification when Andrew parted his cheeks to tend to his rim, but it disappeared when Andrew shushed him with loving words and plenty of reassurance. The cream felt even better there when Andrew took great care rubbing it in. 

“All good,” Andrew said after some time. “Do you want to sleep on your stomach?”

With a chuckle, Neil said, “I think it’s best.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Where I always want you, right by my side.”

They fell asleep with Andrew by Neil’s side, his hand in Neil’s hair, keeping him tethered to the ground. 

When morning came, Neil had moved in his sleep and was on his back, but thankfully, the discomfort was minor. He smiled before he opened his eyes because he felt Andrew’s presence in bed with him. The birds outside were chirping and the leaves in the tree across the window ruffled gently. It was the weekend, so cars were few and far between.

It was a perfect morning.

Neil was therefore surprised when he opened his eyes and was met with a frown.

Andrew looked at Neil with worry in his eyes, chewing his bottom lip. Something was on his mind and it was weighing on him, but he was clearly nervous. He wasn’t going to speak unless given a nudge, Neil knew this about the goalkeeper. 

“Hey,” Neil said soothingly, taking Andrew’s hand where it was lying on the bed between them. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Andrew didn’t speak.

“Was it the scene?” Neil questioned. They would talk about it if something hadn’t felt right, or if something didn’t feel right now, hours later and with distance between them and the scene.

“No. It was perfect.”

Relief settled in Neil’s body. “Then what?”

Andrew nodded and swallowed so his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “It’s a question I’ve been thinking about,” he opened up. He wouldn’t — or couldn’t — look at Neil. 

“And you know those are okay too. There isn’t anything you can’t ask me. There isn’t anything we can’t talk about,” Neil said softly. “You slapped my dick last night before fucking my face senseless. I swallowed both of our cum,” he recounted, an echoing thrill running down his spine at the memory. “I think we’re well past censorship.”

Andrew didn’t respond. 

“Remember how nervous I was before I asked you to hurt my dick? And how nervous you were before you told me you wanted me to choke you? It was hard for you to take the pinwheel to my balls that first time, and you had to dominate me in order to get my hands around your throat. And now, look at us.” Neil smiled. He was proud of them. He had good reason to be proud of them. They’d found their freedom in each other. In submission and domination and in the space that existed between both. 

Andrew sighed. “Of course I do.”

“I think nervousness is good.”

Andrew tugged on Neil’s hand and Neil went with the silent request, climbing into Andrew’s lap and settling there comfortably. He put his free hand on the goalkeeper’s warm skin, feeling his heartbeat and how fast it was drumming. “Tell me.”

“We’ve done this, thing, a few times,” Andrew began hesitantly. “Where you’ve told me a story while you were in control.”

“Okay? That’s true.” Neil thought he knew where it was going, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d said quite a few things during those sessions to get Andrew all hot and bothered, guiding him to the mindset where he let go and was most receptive to humiliation. 

Andrew steeled himself. Then, “You’ve brought Kevin into the picture.”

Neil grinned. Lately, he had made Kevin a participant, when the mood called for it; always with prior discussion and renewed agreement right before the scene itself. Once, Andrew had safeworded out of that part barely after getting started, twice he’d come so hard he’d fallen into the deepest kind of subspace with his own cum cooling against his skin. 

In the fantasies, Neil had made Kevin fuck Andrew’s face or his ass. He’d made himself watch and comment.  

“And I was wondering if it was something you’d like to try,” Andrew concluded. Finally he looked at Neil, gouging his every reaction. 

Neil was suddenly put on the spot, but not necessarily in a bad way; he honestly hadn’t thought about it. 

He was thinking about it now. 

In a way, he’d already tried to be in the same universe as Kevin, but he’d either been an observer, or he’d been the one using Andrew with Kevin as a spectator. “Tell me more,” he told Andrew. He scooted forward so their chests were close enough that if they breathed in tandem they would touch. “What have you been imagining?”

Andrew raised his customary eyebrow indicating scepticism. “Neil,” he pressed. 

“It’s yes, Andrew. We’re not in a scene, but it’s still green.”

Andrew’s hands came down to grip Neil’s waist. “I was thinking,” he started narrating, his voice a little deeper, a little huskier. “It could happen on the Court. At night practice. You’ve been running your mouth, as you do, and Kevin is fed up. He marches up to you and looks you in the eyes. It’s a look he’s never given you before, heated and angry. He tells you he’s fucking tired of that mouth of yours, of your attitude, and to get on your knees. And since we’re scening, with a plug up your ass and a tight, ribbed ring around your cock and balls, you look to me for guidance. I nod, but you also know you can say no. We didn’t plan for this. It’s unexpected. But you drop to your knees and Kevin fucks your throat in even strokes, until your nose is to his pubes and he’s telling you to swallow around him.”

Neil listened intently, and while the fantasy wasn’t a bad one, his cock remained unenthusiastic. “And where are you?”

“I'm standing next to Kevin and watching you pleasure him. Then I jerk off over you. I grip your hair and guide your mouth over Kevin the way I would over myself. I make sure you gag. It’s Kevin’s first blowjob from a guy, and I want you to make me proud.”

That was when Neil felt it — the first stirring. He brought Andrew’s hand, the one he was holding, down on his dick so the goalkeeper could feel him hardening. “This is for you. It’s you in the fantasy that’s making me ache. Not Kevin.”

Andrew coursecorrected. “He passes you to me and I pick up where he left off, while Kevin looks on and jerks himself roughly. He’s still got a hand in your hair, but it’s more for his benefit than yours.”

Neil closed his eyes and began rutting against Andrew’s hand. “Touch me,” he pleaded, and Andrew did. 

Andrew stopped talking and his hand took over. He captured Neil’s mouth and quickly brought him to completion. 

They were quiet, after. 

“Verdict?” Andrew asked as soon as Neil’s breathing was somewhat back to normal. 

“Honestly?” Neil asked. “It didn’t do anything for me. Until you came into the picture. But it was worth a try.”

Andrew looked away again, wiping his hand on the sheet. 

“Why did you ask?”

“It feels uneven.”

“What does?”

“That Kevin fucks me. And not you.”

“You mean it feels like cheating,” Neil asked, understanding what Andrew was trying to say. “It’s not cheating. It isn’t real. And I’m in control.”

“I don’t want it to be real,” Andrew said for the nth time — one for every time they’d messed around with these fantasies and one for every time they’d planned it in advance. 

“Andrew. I know.” Neil kissed the tight line of Andrew’s lips. “I know that.”

“I want to do another one, soon,” Andrew quietly admitted when silence stretched once more between them. 

“I’ll give you anything you want,” Neil promised, his mind already thinking up their next scene. He kissed Andrew’s forehead, a tiny moment of pure magic. “I might even have an idea already.”