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On the rare occasion that the two of them have the dorm to themselves, Neil and Andrew like to make the most of it. Whatever can’t be done with the others around becomes the only thing on their mind the second that door clicks shut.
Today is no exception. With Aaron at the library, likely having a crisis over his 23:59 essay deadline, Nicky at the Columbia house, having a ‘self-care day’ in solitude, and Robin practicing with a few other freshmen on one of few days off, the dorm is silent and, most importantly, private. The second Robin locked the door behind her, Andrew grabbed Neil by the wrist and pulled him into the bedroom.
They’re still there what must be two hours later, and they haven’t gotten far. Neil revels in these times too, though, just kissing and kissing and kissing for hours on end. His jaw is starting to ache and his arms are hurting from reaching up to touch Andrew’s hair, but he doesn’t care when Andrew’s on top of him, chest pressed against chest, soft lips on his own. It’s not hard to lose himself in the warmth.
When the ache starts to be too much, he pulls away and rubs his jaw, wincing. Andrew scoffs but leaves his mouth alone, trailing his lips down the side of Neil’s neck as if it isn’t already covered in marks, new and old. (The day Andrew realized Neil adores love bites was a very good day for Neil.) “Weak”, Andrew says. Only Neil would be able to pick up on the teasing lilt to his voice.
“Mm”, Neil agrees simply, baring his neck so Andrew can access it more easily. Andrew buffs Neil’s hand away from his aching jaw like a cat demanding attention, pressing kisses to the bone when Neil relents, moving that hand back to Andrew’s hair. It’s grown longer over the years and now hangs down like curtains hiding Andrew’s face, tips tickling Neil’s cheek and collarbone. He giggles when it brushes against the more sensitive parts of his neck, made even more so by the marks on his skin.
“Shut up”, Andrew mumbles.
“You like it when I’m loud”, Neil replies with an easy grin. Andrew groans quietly.
“I hate you”, he grumbles.
Neil huffs a laugh. “I know. You tell me every day.”
This was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Andrew stops moving and cold air brushes over Neil’s chest when he sits up properly, still straddling Neil’s thighs. Neil shivers from the sudden cold, casting Andrew a confused look. “What? What’s wrong?”
Andrew looks at him silently for several seconds. He’s worrying subtly at his bottom lip with his teeth, and his eyebrows draw together slightly. Neil isn’t sure he’s ever seen Andrew so unsure, and it unnerves him. “Andrew, what’s wrong?” he asks. Genuine worry starts to coil itself tightly in his chest.
Neil thinks about what he said, but he can’t see why it would affect Andrew like this. After all, Andrew does tell him that every day, and Neil’s told him ‘I know’ before.
Finally, Andrew seems to make a decision. “Don’t say ‘I know’ when I tell you that”, he says, tracing a line down Neil’s chest. “I’m lying.”
Neil’s breath halts in his chest. He knows, of course, that Andrew doesn’t hate him, not in the typical way. Sometimes, when other people hear him say it, they look at Neil with concern in their eyes. Some of their newer teammates are convinced that the two of them are ‘hate-fucking’. They’re not. There is a ‘this’. There is affection. Andrew has always struggled to admit it, but Neil has always known. He never expected Andrew to openly address it, though… And he didn’t expect Andrew to worry that Neil would believe him. “I know, Andrew”, Neil says softly. “I know.”
Andrew still seems caught up on it, though, presses the pad of his thumb against Neil’s chest, probably to hear it thump, thump, thump. He does it often, as if to reassure himself that Neil is here, is breathing. (Neil does the same with Andrew.) “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say it”, he finally says, looking at Neil inquisitively, calculatingly, as if trying to get to the bottom of him with a single look.
Neil knows exactly what he means. “That’s okay, Andrew”, he assures him. He can’t force down the smile that plays on his lips, not in response to Andrew wanting him to know. “I know.”
Andrew nods, and when he leans back down, it’s with more fervor than before.