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Andrew was hungry.
It wasn't the type of hunger that could be quenched by food, drink or even booze. Not even a whole tub of triple chocolate, caramel and brownie ice cream was enough to satisfy the cravings. It had simply made Andrew feel slightly sick and tired beyond belief.
It wasn't that he was low as such, nor did he usually have such aggressive cravings. In fact, the very reason behind his hunger was indistinguishable.
Bee would tell him to dwell on the feeling. She’d encourage him to dive into what the sensation truly meant, what his body was trying to tell him. Every time he tried, his mind would flicker back to Neil.
That was a problem in itself.
He didn't want to think about how he longed to hear his voice. He didn't care to admit that he was starving for Neil's touch. He certainly didn't want to acknowledge the part of him that felt empty without his presence.
Neil had only been gone for a day, but the hole he had left was drastic. At first, Andrew had been fine with Kevin flying Neil to another state. Now, a sense of loneliness filled his gut, and an utter yearning replaced any sense of ease.
When had he come to need Neil so much?
He was a junkie, an exy addict that fought too hard and talked too much. He was an idiot with soft lips, scarred cheeks and touches more tender than Andrew thought he deserved.
His boyfriend never forced him to speak, never took more than was permitted, and stopped at the slightest indication of unease. He had wormed his way through all of Andrew's barriers, and he had let him.
In some ways, Andrew was healing. He was taking back his sex life and his feelings, allowing himself to want. No matter the past, Neil had shown him what it felt like to stop running.
They would never take away his freedom again.
The sound of the door creaking open was enough for Andrew to perk up. He shuffled upwards, peaking his eyes over the top of Neil's grey duvet. Part of him felt mildly embarrassed to be cuddled up in Neil's bed, but 90% of him didn't fucking care.
If Nicky had anything to say about it, his cousin would soon be relocated to Matthew's bedroom. After all, Neil and Kevin weren't meant to be back until late this evening. They were probably sitting, drinking black coffee and rambling about balls in some faraway state.
Andrew wasn't jealous. He didn't get jealous.
"Drew?"
Unless he was trying , Andrew never moved very fast, but his body shot out of bed at the sound. The voice was so distinctive that it couldn't possibly be anyone else.
Neil .
Although he yearned to respond, Andrew couldn't find the words. His throat was dry, numb even. All he could do was drag himself to the bedroom door, wrapped up in the duvet like a piece of sushi.
The flash of auburn made his stomach settle.
"I'm home." Neil smiled his stupid smile, his stupid eyes lighting up with utterly foolish happiness.
Andrew nodded and opened his arms; it was all he could muster, but Neil understood the assignment.
"I missed you," Neil whispered as he let Andrew encase him in a hug. He kept his hands from touching Andrew's skin, instead gripping onto his jumper.
The unsatisfiable hunger dissipated into warmth, mixed with the smell of hotel shampoo and Neil's cologne. It was Andrew's favourite scent in the world. Just like Neil's keys, it was what Andrew called home.
"Stay," he murmured into Neil's neck, bundling them together in the duvet.
He wouldn't let Neil go alone again.