Chapter Text
one
Sometimes, Steven wonders if people think he and Andrew are dating.
He knows it sounds ridiculous. Or at least, that’s what Andrew said when he told him. He’d scooted over to Andrew’s desk and rested his elbow on it, a habit he has that he knows Andrew hates, but won’t say anything about. Andrew always snaps at Shane when he does it, but never at Steven. He tapped Andrew on the shoulder, and his friend removed one ear of his headphones and grunted in acknowledgement. “What’s up, Steven?” he asked, barely a question in his monotone voice.
“I think people think we’re dating,” Steven said, tapping a rhythm on the desk.
Andrew’s head jerked up from his laptop and he looked at Steven. “What? Why would you think that?”
Steven hummed, thinking back to what happened last week. He’d been hanging out with Zach, grabbing lunch on a rare break from editing. They were catching up a little, too, because they hadn’t had a chance to hang soon. Worth It was filming while also being in post-production, and Try Guys was doing 10 things at once, as per usual, so they’d been busy. They ordered and sat down, waiting for their drinks (mimosas, because why the hell not).
“What’d you order?” Zach asked, scrolling through his phone.
“Oh, I got the T-bone steak with house fries, I was here a week ago on a date and it was so good,” Steven enthused, remembering how good the food had been. Even though he eats fancy all the time, he still has a great appreciation for a simple and good steak and fries.
“Nice, nice. What did Andrew get?” Zach asked.
Steven’s brows drew together. “Andrew? What do you mean?”
“Well, you said you went on a date with Andrew. What did Andrew order?” Zach waited expectantly for his answer.
“What? Date with Andrew? Why would I be on a date with Andrew? It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything.” Steven was well and truly confused by now, and Zach looked equally, if not more, confused.
“He’s not your boyfriend?!” Zach yelped, dropping his fork, just as the waiter came back with their drinks, giving Zach a look for being loud. “He’s not your boyfriend?” Zach says again, quieter this time.
“No way! Why would you think that?” Steven had asked, sipping his mimosa.
“Uh, no reason. Never mind,” Zach said, suddenly quiet. They’d moved on to chattering away about their fantasy football picks, but when they parted ways, Steven heard Zach muttering something about Keith and lying.
Steven tells Andrew all this, then pauses. “So do you think people think we’re like, a thing? Like, other than Zach?”
Andrew is quiet for a moment, and then he sighs a little. “No, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t worry about it,” he says, in a tone that borders on disappointed. Steven wonders why all over again, and scoots back to his desk with more questions than he came with.
two
It’s finally the weekend! The glorious, glorious weekend. Steven is so ready to curl up with some red wine and the most recent season of Hell’s Kitchen. Andrew always teases him for it, but he has a huge thing for Gordon Ramsey. Whatever! Gordon is a talented guy.
Andrew, Steven thinks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. This dating speculation is getting out of hand. Earlier today, Steven, Andrew, Annie and Adam had been hanging by the food carts that come by every month. Steven and Annie were in line for pho, but Andrew and Adam wanted Italian, so they broke away from the group, Andrew joking about how Adam should get more in touch with his roots. Andrew had clapped his hand on Steven’s shoulder and said he would text him (presumably about how editing is going on his side. They were both putting in extra hours to get all the episodes done).
Steven had laughed, and turned to Annie, and the conversation steered naturally to what they were gonna do that weekend. Annie had plans with Adam and Rie for a date at Sky Zone and Corner Grille in Van Nuys. She was super excited because she had it all planned out for the one-month anniversary of the three of them getting together. “Rie loves trampolines,” she’d gushed, and “Adam loves fusion restaurants! So it’ll be the best of both worlds!” They moved gradually up the line, feeling the breeze on their backs. The sun was hot but not suffocating, something to be grateful for in LA.
“That sounds great! You guys will definitely have a good time. You know how Adam feels about his burgers,” Steven said, and Annie laughed.
“Yeah, he’s a total burger fiend. So what are you and Andrew doing this weekend?” She’d asked, and Steven felt a strange wave of deja vu wash over him.
“Me and Andrew? Uh, I don’t know what Andrew’s up to, but I’m gonna watch a lot of Hell’s Kitchen. Might binge Stranger Things, too,” Steven mused. He’d heard good things but hadn’t gotten around to it in his queue. He wondered if Annie had seen it. “Hey, have you seen Stranger Things? Is it any good?”
Annie stared at him, puzzled, and inched forward in the line. “Yeah, of course, it was amazing. But more importantly, how can you not know what your own boyfriend is up to this weekend? Are you guys going through a rough patch?” Her confusion morphed into worry on her face, and Steven started to panic. The deja vu makes sense now.
“Boyfriend? I’m not dating Andrew! And even if I was, I’m not required to keep tabs on him!” he could hear his voice inching towards screechy territory and tried to calm down, looking at Annie apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that you’re not the first person to think this, and it’s getting weird.”
“No worries,” Annie says, unaffected.“But, yeah, of course I’m not. Probably half the office thinks that you guys are dating. And have probably thought so for a while now,” she says matter-of-factly. “I guess not, huh?” she wonders aloud, and turns around to give her order to the employee at the food truck, and Steven is left wondering, too. Wondering how the hell it is that so many of their friends think he’s dating Andrew — and for how long.
Whatever, I don’t need or want to think about that right now, Steven thinks, pushing the past from his mind. He tucks his blanket under his feet like he’s wrapping a burrito and grabs his wine, taking a hearty swig from the bottle. Gordon calls.
three
Steven can’t believe it. Worth It has been a show for 3 full seasons now! Or, it will be once the last episode drops this weekend. But still! His brainchild, his literal food for thought — never mind, that didn’t sound as clever as he thought it would — is a popular show that rakes in millions of views. They went to Japan, for God’s sake! It felt surreal. He says just that out loud, turning to look at Andrew in the passenger seat.
“This feels surreal! Doesn’t it feel surreal, Drew?” he asked, a little too loudly. Adam shifted in the backseat in his post-brunch food coma. He snuffled a little and Steven smiled. Cute.
“Chill. You’re gonna wake Adam up,” Andrew said, typing furiously at something on his phone. Probably one of those piano games. Annie got him hooked on them. His finger slips, making him miss a key, and Andrew curses before visibly forcing himself to calm down. Steven could practically hear Andrew’s internal monologue. It would go something like, Are you really this fucking worked up over a game? What has your life come to? You’re 28! Or something else equally obnoxiously mature. Finally, he locks his phone and looks over at Steven, small smile playing on his lips. Steven loves that smile. “But yeah, it’s totally surreal.”
Steven beams.
They make it to their destination, a little park they’d spotted while shooting the other day that they’d wanted to check out, but there was no time. So they met up today, on a Saturday!, Adam lamented (but he secretly missed them, Steven knew) and hit up A-Frame. The owner was happy to see them and wouldn’t stop exclaiming about how, since the brunch episode dropped, business has been booming. Steven smiled. He was glad that their show could let deserving restaurants get a chance to shine. That’s one of the best parts of Worth It.
“What’cha smiling about?” Andrew broke him out of his thoughts, looking at Steven out of the corner of his eye, and suffering a loss on his game as a result. He pocketed his phone, likely deciding to give up for today. “You’ve been cheesing out the window for the past 5 minutes.”
Steven turned the key in the ignition, shutting the car off, and unbuckled his seatbelt as Andrew twisted around in his seat to wake Adam up. Steven watched Adam’s sleepy and confused sleep eyes through the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. Adam really was like a huge puppy, hair flopping into his eyes and making him look even younger than usual.
“Nothing. I just really love doing the show with you guys,” Steven said, before opening the car door and climbing out. He could hear Andrew scoffing from the other side of the car and Adam’s quiet laughter in response, but he wasn’t hurt like he used to be. Now he knew that Andrew didn’t know how to respond to straight-up affection, so he just mocked it. He knew that if he looked over at Andrew, the other man would be flushed and trying to hide his smile, so Steven didn’t mind.
“You didn’t get that out of your system when we went to Seattle?” Andrew quipped, grabbing the food they’d packed from the trunk. So what if they’d just ate? They’re hungry dudes! Also, Andrew eats like a starved bear. They couldn’t take any chances on an underfed, and thus whiny, Andrew Ilnyckyj.
“The fact that you remember what I said in Seattle proves that you care!” Steven teased right back, laughing when Andrew’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. He had no comeback.
“What I think Andrew was trying to say, Steven, is that we love you too,” Adam said, looping his arm through both of the other boys’ and leading the way further into the park.
They’d spent a couple hours just lounging in the shade of an oak tree, throwing around a frisbee and baseball, and then just eating and talking, and were about ready to leave when the two girls approached. They were adorable, looked like they were maybe still in their teens, and super shy. Steven had spotted them 5 minutes before they approached and whispered without moving to the guys. “Hey. Hey, should we take mercy on those girls and tell them to come over?”
Andrew opened one eye and looked over at the tree the girls were hovering behind. “Yeah, probably.” He sat up and stretched before flicking Adam’s stomach. Steven heard the girls titter at the sliver of stomach that was revealed when Andrew flexed. Same. Wait a second. Not same, Steven thought. Definitely not same. “Hey. Get up so we can meet some fans and then go home.” Andrew held out his hand for Adam to take and Steven looked away before he saw Adam take it.
Steven’s stomach churned uncomfortably at the words “go home” but he made the executive decision to ignore why and turned towards the girls, who startled when he made eye contact, like they didn’t know how obvious they were. They probably didn’t. “Hey! We noticed you guys lurking. Did you want a picture?” Steven smiled his best and most reassuring smile as he approached, and the girls nodded, eyes wide.
“Hi! We love the show! You guys are so funny,” Girl One says, holding out her phone to her friend (maybe sister?) and indicating for her to take the picture. Steven got in position and put his arm around her shoulders in an appropriate but friendly half-hug. Adam and Andrew had packed up the remnants of their lunch and made their way over to join in for the second picture. They kind of had to crowd in, so Andrew’s body was pressed up against Steven’s in one long, burning hot line of contact. His elbow was at an awkward angle, so he moved it and wrapped his arm around Steven’s torso instead. Steven didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the first round of pictures was over and Andrew pulled away. He let out a sigh and tried to stop his hands from shaking.
“Oh my god, yeah! The show is so great. And you guys are so cute together!” Girl Two exclaims, gap-toothed smile stretching across her face. Girl One nods from behind the camera and her curls bounce. She gestures for them to get into position, but none of the guys move. Andrew looks like just swallowed a dry pill, and Adam is biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh, but neither of them say anything. Finally, Steven speaks up.
“Um, who is?” he says, trying not to sound jealous. They’re gonna say Adam and Andrew. He doesn’t want them to say it. He wants them to say he and Andrew are so cute together. Why does he want them to say him and Andrew, his best friend, are a cute couple? Shut the hell up, brain, Steven thinks. Now is not the time.
“You and Andrew, of course!” Steven tries really hard to tamp down the tendril of happiness and hope that blooms in his chest, and fails. He has to bite back a smile of his own now, and he knows he’s blushing. He doesn’t dare look at Andrew.
“Steven and I aren’t dating.”
The air suddenly gets very thin, and Steven’s head snaps back up to look at Andrew, but the other man is looking everywhere but at him. “We’re just friends.”
The girls look uncomfortable and guilty now, no trace of their smiles from before. “Oh, oh my God, I’m so sorry for assuming—” They trip over themselves trying to apologize, but Steven forces a smile and shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it! Drew and I are so close that we get it all the time,” he says, ruffling Andrew’s hair and waggling his eyebrows. Andrew is stiff as a board next to him. It’s like he’s frozen; he doesn’t even swear at Steven and glower at him for messing up his hair like he usually does. Well, at least he’s not shrinking away from me, Steven thinks, trying to salvage the situation in his mind. “Let’s finish taking the pictures,” he offers, and the girls are visibly relieved and resume their smiling. They agree, and the trio takes the rest of the pictures silently and awkwardly before saying their goodbyes.
The boys quietly finish packing up their stuff and begin the walk back to the car, the air tense, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. It’s so quiet Steven can hear Adam breathing and the twittering of the birds overhead. He tries not to look at Andrew, but the afternoon light casts him in a gold sheen. He’s gorgeous, Steven thinks.
Almost as if Andrew can hear him, he looks up and briefly locks eyes with Steven, before breaking out into a sarcastic smile. “You still love doing the show with me?” he asked, the side of his mouth quirked up in a way that made Steven’s knees feel like A-Frame's famous pineapple-orange-guava jam.
“Of course,” Steven replied, smiling but completely serious. “Always.”
They reached the car, and packed the stuff back in the truck before Steven turned the key in the ignition and began the drive home, leaving the cool shade and chirping birds behind them in the rearview. The afternoon light, however, followed them all the way home, and clung to Andrew’s skin the whole time, spilling down the front of his face and onto his arm, sinking into the skin there and making the hair on his arms look like spun gold.
“Bye, Steven. Later, Adam,” Andrew said, waving to the remaining pair before jogging to his apartment building and disappearing behind the door. Gorgeous, Steven thinks again. So gorgeous. And I’m so in love with him. Fuck.
“Fuck! I’m in love with him!” Steven realized, dropping his head onto the steering wheel. Fuck, this is not happening.
“You’re just now realizing? And yes, I’m still here,” Adam quipped, still in the backseat, an accidental witness to Steven’s unfortunate predicament.
“What do you mean, just realizing?” Steven asked, choosing to ignore the second part. Adam just gave him an immensely put-upon look and lay back down in the backseat.
“Never mind, you’re hopeless,” he said, laying his hat over his face and settling in for the ride. Steven decided not to question the issue. Besides, this liking Andrew thing couldn’t be too bad, right?
four
Steven was so, so wrong. If he thought his oblivious crushing was bad, now that he was painfully aware of his huge crush on Andrew (that was 3 years in the making, to be honest), it was so much worse. It was like he couldn’t even breathe around Andrew now, let alone talk. It was at the point that one time he got so overwhelmed that he had to leave when Andrew entered the room and go take some deep breaths in the bathroom.
Other than that, though, with the help of Adam, he was being pretty normal. Staying calm, even. Or maybe not, because when Andrew entered the room with Ashly, he felt his whole body get freezing cold with dread and jealousy, and made a break for it to the kitchen to catch his breath. He sat down on the floor next to the fridge with his arms around his knees and breathed in through his nose and out his mouth, staring at a piece of a dust on the ground in front of him to calm down.
After a couple minutes, he heard footsteps, and assuming it was Adam, said “I know, I know.”
“Know what?” Andrew answered, and Steven raised his head faster than he’d ever before.
“Oh! Uh, nothing. I thought you were something else.”
“Oh. Yeah, you and Adam are spending a lot of time together recently,” Andrew said, scowling like he was sucking on something sour.
“Not really. He’s just been helping me with a problem…” Steven trailed off, realizing he couldn’t tell Andrew what the problem was. The problem was him.
“Ah,” Andrew said, picking up on the fact that Steven didn’t want to elaborate on it. “Anyway, did you hear about the prank Keith pulled on Ned the other day?” He held his hand out for Steven to take, and Steven felt a wave of deja vu flow over him. Just like the other day at the park, but this time it’s me, Steven thought, beaming up at Andrew.
“No! What happened?” he asked, brushing his pants off. There was more dust down there than he thought, and his pants were a mess.
“Well, Keith bought a venus fly trap last week and— Hold on, you missed a bit,” Andrew said, pointing to Steven’s general back area.
“Oh, did I get it now?” Steven brushed his butt off, watching a little bit more dust fall to the ground and turning around so Andrew could see.
“Uh, not quite. Here, let me— if you don’t mind, that is,” Andrew said, his hand hovering behind Steven’s back. Steven could almost feel the heat from it.
“Oh, I don’t mind, please do,” Steven responded, and then cringed at his own phrasing. Please do? What the hell, Steven! But Andrew didn’t seem to notice. He was busy leaning closer into Steven’s space, and brushing his hand over Steven’s ass, once, twice—
“Oh! Sorry for interrupting you guys,” Freddie’s voice exclaimed, dissolving the tension and making Steven blink in surprise. Andrew’s hand was still on his ass, and once Freddie’s eyes drifted down, looking pointedly at the point of contact, he drew it away like he was touching hot coals.
“Nothing—nothing was happening!” Steven said, voice pitched up almost two octaves. Andrew was palpably silent. He had his hands tucked behind his back.
“Mhm, I’m sure, lovebirds,” Freddie drawled. Steven opened his mouth to clarify, but Freddie forged on. “Anyways, y’all are invited to my party this weekend! Bring booze, but try to avoid vodka. We already have too much,” she said, looking into the distance as if mentally tallying the amount.
“Isn’t your party just for couples, though?” Steven said, confused. He remembers Devin moaning about how she wanted to go but didn’t know where she and Thespi stood.
“Yeah! Couldn’t not invite the cutest couple in the office,” Fred replied, and then dipped her voice into a whisper. “Don’t tell Jen and Kelsey.”
“Oh, I’d love to go, but Andrew and I—” Steven started. He remembered vividly what happened last time, and did not want a repeat.
“We might be busy, but we’ll definitely try to make it,” Andrew interrupted, sliding his arm around Steven’s waist. Steven was shocked into silence. Freddie didn’t seem to notice, she just nodded and smiled and said she’d see them later.
When she was gone, Steven turned to Andrew, incredulous, but careful not to pull out of his hold. He was taking everything he could get while this fever dream continued. “What was that about?”
Andrew shrugged and grinned at Steven. “Could be fun. Also, an overabundance of vodka? Count me in.” He paused, searching Steven’s face with his eyes. “I mean, if that’s okay with you, of course.”
Steven could only laugh. Pretending to be Andrew’s boyfriend for a whole night, while also being intoxicated? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. Adam will probably give him his Disappointed Dad Look when he tells him. But, “Of course it’s okay with me,” he says. “It’ll be worth it.” What he doesn’t say is, it’ll be worth it since I’ll be with you.
five
Steven decides that if he’s gonna go to this party, and pretend to date Andrew, that by the end of the night, he better be heavily intoxicated or dating Andrew. Preferably both. So the only thing to do is prepare.
The drunk part is easy. He and Andrew split the cost of three bottles of 2010 Moscato, but they end up only bringing one after tasting a “sample” at home, and keep one each. Steven doesn’t know how Andrew uses his, but Steven can practically see the future of this bottle of wine: downed in one weekend of binging Hotel Hell. Can never go wrong with Gordon Ramsay in Steven’s book.
It’s the dating Andrew part that’s tough. Adam, along with the ever-patient Rie and the deadpan advice of Annie, coached him on what to say and do to get Andrew into a place where Steven can confess. It’s much harder than one might think. When Steven suggested that he just get really drunk and serenade Andrew, Adam almost gave up on him, so now he’s taking all orders with complete compliance. Without Adam, who knows what could go wrong.
So, apparently what could go wrong is this, Steven thinks, throwing his head back as he downed another glass of wine. Everything feels a little soft around the edges and he can’t really keep his head upright anymore — or rather, he doesn’t care enough to try anymore. He’d lost Andrew in the crowd about twenty minutes ago, when he saw the other man approach Thespi, another one of his annoyingly beautiful exes. What the hell am I playing at? It’s not like it’s my business who Andrew talks to, even if we were dating, Steven reminds himself, licking his lips and making his way to Freddie’s kitchen to pour himself another glass. No one can judge him if he’s the one who brought the wine, right?
Tragically, he’s intercepted right as he’s uncorking the bottle by one of his own exes. But not in a normal way, no, because Ben doesn’t do normal, apparently. He’d snuck up on Steven and pressed his fingers into the meat of Steven’s side, making Steven jump and spin around to look at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh! Oh, hi, Ben,” Steven said, trying to hide the disappointed drop of his voice when he realized it wasn’t Andrew.
“Hey. Just the man I wanted to see,” Ben said, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. “How’ve you been?” He was just a little too close, and Steven could smell the damn Bud Light on his breath. He hadn’t missed that smell.
“Uh, fine. Can’t complain. Actually, I gotta go, I think I see Jen calling me—” Steven said, trying to make a break for it. Unfortunately, his capturer turned to look in the direction Steven had gestured, and saw just as many friends waving and subsequently saving Steven from this horror show as Steven did: zero.
“You got somewhere to go, Stevie? I know Jen isn’t calling you.” Ben stepped closer, and Steven could feel his heat from his mouth on his cheek now, making him hold his own breath and turn to the side for relief. “Where ya goin’, hm? Didn’t ya miss me?” Ben slurred, swaying impossibly closer. Ben reached a hand up to do something — maybe stroke Steven’s cheek, maybe hit him — but he never made contact, because suddenly a similarly toned arm was holding his hand back, twisting his arm, and pulling him away from Steven. Ben yelped and Steven startled. Andrew.
“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?” Andrew said, looking quietly enraged. His voice was tense with anger, and even Steven was a little afraid, though he knew that Andrew would never hurt him. When Ben didn’t respond, he twisted a little harder, and Ben sucked in a breath. “Hm? What the fuck are you doing to my boyfriend?”
Boyfriend. Boyfriend . Steven really knows that he should be paying attention to the scene unfolding in front of him, and maybe stopping Andrew from breaking Ben’s arm for real (if he can cleave an apple with his bare hands, who knows what he can do to a man’s arm?), but he’s caught on that one word, beautiful meld of parts platonic and gendered. Boyfriend. It seems like the kind of word that would sound so good to say.
“Boyfriend,” he says, trying it out on his tongue. He was right. But now, there's a still silence where there wasn’t previously. He looks up, and there’s only Andrew in front of him, looking virtually unchanged except— Oh. His shirt, so carefully buttoned, is slightly disheveled, one extra button undone and chest hair (why oh why is chest hair so attractive) peeking out to taunt Steven. His hair has suffered a similar fate, the careful slick of it lost in the minor scuffle, and now it hangs in front of his face in a curl that’s sinfully sexy. It’s like he’s James Dean or something, Steven thinks, and then realizes he’s said aloud when Andrew huffs a pleased but embarrassed laugh.
“I’m definitely not James Dean,” Andrew says, buttoning up his shirt and covering up the escaped glimpse of chest (goodbye, sweet chest hair), but he’s smiling like it’s the best compliment Steven could have given him. “C’mon, let’s go home,” he says, and Steven grins wide at the word home. It sounds almost like boyfriend. So Steven scoops up his cup of wine, and makes to go. Unfortunately, he doesn’t account for what the rest of his body might want. Specifically, his feet. Super specifically, his shoelaces, and he trips right over them (Adam’s quiet voice telling him they were untied earlier and his eager and tipsy brushing off of the information echo in his mind. Damn, he should have listened to Adam, as usual), which wouldn’t be such a problem. But he’s still holding his cup of wine. And Andrew turns back to ask if he’s coming at the exact same moment. And of course, they collide.
For a moment, after the collision, Steven lets him luxuriate in the feeling of Andrew’s bicep, the closest solid surface he could spot in the throes of flying wine. And then— “Oh my God! Oh my God, Andrew, I’m so sorry, so so so sorry, oh my gosh, oh no your SHIRT, I’m so so s—”
Andrew puts a hand over his mouth, and Steven shuts up, not wanting to anger him further. But Andrew’s not mad. “It’s okay, Steven. Let’s just go clean up,” he says, smiling kindly and tiredly at the other man. So they make their way upstairs, cheap wine sitting on Andrew’s button-down, Steven’s finger looped in his furthest-back belt loop so as not to lose him. They are a quiet party of navigators through the sea of party-goers, until they reach the upstairs bathroom and barricade themselves in. Steven plops down on the edge of the tub, and Andrew takes a seat on the toilet lid.
“Okay,” Andrew says, and proceeds to unbutton his shirt. Steven probably should have expected this, because they were going there to clean the shirt, but his brain hadn’t made the mental leaps, and he sucked in a big breath through his teeth, producing a whistling sound. Andrew blushed, and then seemed to fight it away, because his skin returned to its normal color in record time, and instead of staying silent, he started letting out little grunts. “Mm,” he groaned, trying to fit the fourth-to-last button through the tiny hole. All of Steven’s focus was on Andrew, and his perfect, perfect hands, slipping rounded things into holes with purpose and concentration.
Andrew got through two more buttons, with increasing amounts of groan/grunts, and by this point, his shirt was hanging wide open, fluttering minutely in the small wind of the bathroom’s AC. Steven can’t do anything but stare, eyes tracing and retracing the dip of Andrew’s (albeit mostly undefined) abs, the thatch of hair that leads from underneath his waistband and up past his navel, his nipples that look like hard pink pebbles against the rest of his fuzzy and golden skin. Steven’s eyes travel up and fix on the deeper but similar pink of the full, plump lip, that glistened and glinted like a delicious morsel, something they’d pay a hefty sum for. Everything felt tense and taut, even the veins in Steven’s hand, like they were waiting for something to snap them.
On the last button, he lets out a bona fide moan, and Steven can’t take it anymore; he sinks onto his knees, shuffles across the fluffy blue carpet on the floor, and presses close. He waits, so Andrew can pull away, can say no, but Andrew only pitches closer to him, shirt now hanging fully open and slipping off one shoulder, and he’s so beautiful that Steven has to kiss him or he thinks he might just die.
So he takes the morsel into his mouth, and bites, and licks, and reaches past it into the deeper flavors and textures of Andrew’s mouth, tasting, rolling, and flicking his tongue like he’s eating a delicacy. He doesn’t want to forget this taste, this all-consuming flavor of dark fruit that’s ripened to the point of softness. There’s no price to pay for this, something he’s wanted for so long, and told himself was too costly — what would happen to the show? Their jobs in general? Their friendship? How could they come back from it if something went wrong?
But Andrew was kissing him back, and Steven couldn’t think about all of that right now. Right now, there was only the hunch of Andrew’s shoulders and the way he shook as Steven drew him into his mouth and body and clutched at his shoulders and pressed his chest to the other man’s. Andrew pulled away, panting like he’d taken a long drink and forgotten how to breathe in the process. Steven pulled him back to his chest, and just carded his fingers through the hair at his nape as he waited for him to catch his breath, but Andrew pulled back again.
“Wait,” he said, and Steven paused, confused. “Your shirt’s gonna get wine on it.”
Steven could only laugh and ignored Andrew’s petty concern in favor of pressing open-mouth kisses down Andrew’s neck, at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and down the strong slope of shoulder. He kept kissing, the kisses getting more chaste, more loving, and somehow, making Andrew’s breath come faster, even as they turned less sexual. Steven didn’t stop at his shoulder and made his way down Andrew’s right arm, dropping pecks across his palm until he got to the tip of his ring finger. “Boyfriend?”
“Hm?” Andrew breathed, kisses making his face flush again.
“You’re my boyfriend?” Steven said, pulling his mouth away from Andrew’s hand so that the other man could focus on his answer.
“Oh.” Andrew paused, and looked down, eyelashes casting shadows of doubt on his face. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just—”
“That’s not what I asked.” Andrew looked up and met Steven’s gaze. “I asked if you’re my boyfriend. Because I would really like you to be.”
Andrew’s smile was like a ray of sunshine. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re my boyfriend.”
Steven’s smile was no less radiant. “Boyfriend.” It tasted almost as good on his tongue as Andrew’s mouth did, or maybe more. He’d have to kiss Andrew again to be sure.
And for the first time, Steven was so, so, so glad he didn’t listen to Adam.