Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
"Yes or no?" Andrew asked.
"Yes," Neil said.
Andrew sent a significant look down at Neil's arms where they were folded across his chest. It took Neil a moment to catch on, and then he dropped his arms and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. Andrew waited until he'd gone still before kissing him. Neil stopped thinking about classes, Exy, and Kevin's liquid spine and let Andrew kiss him senseless. He was cotton-headed and unsteady by the time Andrew pressed his other hand flat against Neil's abdomen. Every nerve ending from his chest down seemed to twitch in response. Neil clenched his hands into fists like that would keep them where they were and let Andrew back him into the wall.
His phone hummed as he received his daily countdown, and pressed against the wall it sounded obnoxiously loud. Andrew let go of Neil's chin and fished the phone out of his back jeans pocket. He leaned back a bit as he held the phone up in offering. Neil half-expected him to open it and was relieved Andrew didn't. Neil took his phone and tossed it out of their reach without bothering to open the text. He knew what day it was; he knew how little time was left. He didn't care to see it, especially right now.
Andrew watched the phone bounce off the couch and skitter across the carpet. It was a toss-up whether or not he'd ask. Neil kissed his neck, hoping to distract him, and was rewarded with a startled jolt. That was enough reason to do it again. Andrew pushed his face away, but they were standing too close together for Neil to miss the way he shivered. Andrew kissed him before Neil could say anything about it.
Andrew pushed him harder into the wall, mapping him out through his shirt from shoulders to waist and back again. He'd had his hands on Neil's bare skin just a couple weeks ago when he saw Neil's scars, but this felt completely different. This was Andrew learning every inch and edge of him. His hands had never felt this heavy or hot before. Every press and demanding slide of his fingers sent heat curling through Neil's veins. It made Neil restless, made him anxious, made him lean a little deeper into Andrew's kisses and made him too aware of the denim trapping his hands at his hips.
Neil couldn't remember the last time he'd put hands on someone. It wasn't the girl in Canada—maybe the girl before. For the first time he considered touching Andrew like that and learning Andrew's body the way Andrew was memorizing his. He wanted to find the places that made Andrew give ground.
He hadn't said that aloud, but as if on cue Andrew followed Neil's arms down to his wrists and poked his fingers into Neil's pockets. He was making sure Neil's hands were still there, Neil guessed, so Neil twisted his hands deeper in response. Andrew caught hold of his wrists and squeezed to stop him. After a moment's consideration he pulled Neil's hands free and held them up by his head.
He kissed Neil like he wanted to bruise his lips and leaned back to fix Neil with an intense stare. "Just here."
"Okay," Neil said, and dug his fingers into Andrew's hair as soon as Andrew's grip went slack. It wasn't much but it was a desperate relief having something to hold onto. Maybe that low rush in his gut was from being trusted enough to reach out at all. Neil would figure it out later. All that mattered now was how easy it was to pull Andrew in for another kiss.
Andrew slowly let go of his wrists and placed a hand flat on Neil's chest. They stood like that an age, Andrew testing Neil's control and Neil content to kiss their mouths numb. Andrew's hand between his legs was an unexpected weight. Neil didn't realize how tight he twisted his fingers in Andrew's hair until Andrew bit his lower lip in warning. Neil grumbled something incoherent and forcibly loosened his death grip. He thought he tasted blood, but it was a fleeting tang quickly forgotten as Andrew got his button and zipper undone.
Andrew wasn't gentle, but Neil didn't want him to be. Neither of them had the constitution for tenderness. This was ruthless, almost angry, Andrew's hand taking Neil as far and fast as he could go. Neil tried pulling Andrew closer, but Andrew kept a hand flat on Neil's chest to keep space between their bodies. Neil barely managed Andrew's name before Andrew pushed him over the edge and kept going. Andrew smothered his frantic gasp with a last hard kiss and finally let go of him.
They stood cheek-to-cheek a minute, an hour, a day, Neil's heart pounding in his temples and overloaded nerves shuddering. Coherent thought came back in lazy, fractured pieces and the first thing Neil was really aware of was how tight Andrew's fingers were digging into his chest. Neil tried to look down, but Andrew gave him a short shove in response.
"What about—" Neil started.
Andrew cut him off with a low, "Don't."
"You can't go back to Kevin and Nicky like that."
"I said be quiet."
"You said 'don't'," Neil said.
Neil flexed his fingers in Andrew's hair, fixing his grip so he could tug Andrew into a short kiss. Andrew tolerated it for only a moment before leaning back. He wiped his hand on Neil's shirt before tugging at Neil's wrists. Neil obediently let go of him and didn't miss the way Andrew watched him lower his hands. Neil didn't know if he could get them back in his pockets without brushing up against Andrew, so he tucked them behind his back instead. Andrew eased back out of Neil's space and dropped his hands.
"Go," Andrew said.
"Where?" Neil asked.
"Anywhere I can't see you," Andrew said.
Neil wouldn't live long enough to understand all the broken layers of Andrew's sexuality, but he at least knew better than to be offended by that dismissal. He waited until Andrew was far enough back that he could step away from the wall without bumping into him. The room was set up so his desk was partially out of sight from the door, but Neil went to the bedroom instead. He dug the knuckle of his thumb into his swollen lower lip and winced a little at the sting. He peeled his shirt over his head, bundled it up to hide the mess, and stuffed it into his laundry basket. He traded his jeans for sweats, scrounged up an old tee to wear, and leaned against his bed to wait.