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“A-ah— fuck, Andrew.”
A strap buzzes between them; soft murmur that it is.
Kevin is laid flat on Andrew’s dorm bed, arms open and hands pressed to the mattress. His fingers are intertwined with Andrew’s, squeezing tighter at each thrust, and his legs are wrapped around Andrew’s waist. Plastered to the bed like he is, there is not much leverage for Kevin to try and meet Andrew’s thrusts, though he tries it anyway.
He’s not wearing anything but one of Andrew’s larger uniform shirts, bunched up at the hips. Truly, he’d been sleeping before Andrew barged into the room — Kevin is the sweetest after a nap, and though Andrew would deny it, he is partial to these peaceful reprieves; these pockets of time where Kevin is easy and malleable to work with. There was a reason the sight of Kevin sleeping in his jersey made him reach for the strap-on in their closet, after all.
Andrew pushes the strap in entirely, hitting deep. He’s not interested in quick and rough today: he takes his time with measured, paced out thrusts, the entire toy disappearing inside of Kevin with a faint buzz. It’s at the lowest possible settling, a small and nearly irrelevant vibration, but it makes Kevin’s legs tremble and contort in the air all the same.
After waking, he is so sensitive — all it took was a fluttering of Andrew’s hands on his bare leg before Kevin was long gone, wrapping arms and legs around him and begging for any kind of closeness Andrew would give him. He moves his hips languidly, a frigid light flickering through the darkness of the room as Andrew lazily fucks into Kevin.
There’s a come stain on the front of Kevin’s shirt, from where Andrew had already made him orgasm once before, but he wants more: Kevin is so wound up on the daily, Andrew can’t help but want to see just how relaxed he can get when forced to. Today feels small and intimate in a way Andrew can’t quite put his finger on yet, and he doesn’t want it to end; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible if it means keeping this.
“Andrew, a-ah,” Kevin whimpers, his face so close to Andrew’s he can feel his warm breath against his cheek, “I— ah—”
He seems incapable of rational thought. Good; that’s where Andrew wants him.
Andrew himself is wet and throbbing — he can feel it drip down his thighs at the sight of Kevin writhing under him, soaking the back of the strap as it bumps against his clit. Not for the first time, he wishes he could feel every squeeze and flutter of Kevin’s around the strap, but even just watching the way he sucks the toy in is enough to leave Andrew light-headed.
His stomach flutters, a flame licking all the way up to Andrew’s chest as Kevin clenches around the strap, pulling Andrew’s hips in by crossing his legs around him.
“Stop watching,” he whines, digging the heels of his feet against Andrew’s back. He’s so hard it looks like it hurts, but Andrew hasn’t touched him at all today; when he came, it’d been untouched. “It’s embarrassing.”
It’s not. It’s alluring.
He unhooks his hands from Kevin’s, rising just enough on his knees to be able to see the point where Kevin is connected to the toy. Entranced, Andrew rests his hands on the back of his thighs, using his thumbs to spread Kevin open and watch as he clenches around the strap, puffy and flushed. Slick drips down Andrew’s leg at such a sight, his lower half throbbing almost painfully with want.
Even with boxers on, if Kevin looked down just a bit, he’d see the wet stain on Andrew’s underwear. It’s a good thing he’s too far gone to look.
Andrew sighs in faux disappointment, rubbing the stretched rim with the pad of his thumb as he pushes the strap all the way in, the vibration making Kevin’s entrance flutter helplessly. He nearly convulses.
“I’m doing all the work here, Kevin,” Andrew says, nonchalant when he feels anything but. “Filling you up, making you come over and over, putting you in that pretty boy mindset you like so much… the least you could do is be grateful.”
Kevin makes a noise of annoyance that gets derailed by a sharp thrust. "Do you want me to t-thank you?"
"Hm," replies Andrew, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He fights off a smile when Kevin's demeanor crumbles, locking his legs around Andrew as he chokes back a quiet moan. That sound — that's what Andrew is after. "Behaving should be enough."
It's a bit of a low blow, because Kevin does behave spectacularly well to whatever Andrew asks of him. Even now, he's being so good: keeping himself open and relaxed; not touching Andrew where he isn't welcome to; coming untouched just from the strap. Kevin gives him everything he wants, whenever he wants it — it's unbelievable.
"How am I not behaving—" Kevin whines, and Andrew shuts him up with a kiss.
He reels the toy back until only the tip is inside Kevin, larger than the fine taper of its body, before slamming back in. Kevin crumples breathlessly against the bed, arching off like he is unsure whether to push out the intrusion or pull it in, and by the looks of it, it seems he's feeling Andrew even back in his throat.
That's how it always should be.
"I know it's big," Andrew coos when Kevin lets out a weepy little gasp against his mouth, high and wet. "I knew you'd take it well. You must be so tight."
The praise makes Kevin flounder, declawed. It is a big toy, the biggest they have, and Kevin usually steers clear from it unless asked to consider otherwise — but today, he'd been the one to ask for it. Kevin is so relaxed from his nap the strap barely finds any resistance as Andrew buries it all the way inside him.
Andrew has an ongoing daydream about what it must feel like to be inside Kevin. He imagines the warmth of it, the tightness of it, how soft and sweet Kevin's body would feel when it's milking him for all he's worth — and even on his lowest of days, that fantasy is always enough to get Andrew wet and throbbing. He cannot help himself; he wants it badly, can conjure the feeling so well it almost feels like a memory. It is an obsession he cannot deny.
Andrew has used his fingers on Kevin before, and even that was enough to leave him light-headed — when he thinks of how downright horny-stupid it'd make him to have Kevin tight and warm around him, Andrew is almost glad he was not granted the facilities needed for it. God knows he would not want to do anything else.
"Andrew," Kevin cries out softly, hooking his calves on the back of Andrew's thighs. "Andrew, it's— it's big—"
"Mhm," he agrees, swiping his thumb over the stretched rim. "Maybe you're just small here. Ever thought of that?"
Kevin throws his head back, breathing hard. "Shut up," he replies through gritted teeth.
He looks so debauched like this; disgraced and uncouth, legs spread. There is something that tickles Andrew just right about lewding the darling of Exy to this extent, but the other part of him is too focused on Kevin's every twitch to pay attention to it.
Andrew wraps his hands around Kevin's thighs, hoisting them up just enough to pull him in. The toy disappears entirely between them, and Andrew is amazed at how well Kevin takes it — he's not sure even he himself would be able to do this with as much ease, what with the advantages he has over Kevin in this department. Andrew is certain Kevin will be sore for a day or so after this, but he’s always been Andrew’s to take care of; this hasn’t changed yet.
"Andrew," Kevin moans, all breath. It's contradictory to tell Andrew to shut up and call his name so wantonly right after, but Andrew supposes he cannot blame Kevin for his irrationality when something so big is inside him. "Andrew, a-ah, deeper."
If he goes deeper, Andrew will have to write apology letters to Kevin's cervix.
Nipping the delicate skin of Kevin's pulse, he denies, “No. If I go in deeper, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I won’t,” Kevin pleads, squeezing his legs around Andrew. “I won’t, I won’t move, I promise, I’ll take everything you give me, just— just go deeper. I want you, I want it, Andrew…”
When Kevin asks him so pretty, how can he say no?
“No moving,” Andrew reiterates, moving his hand to hold Kevin’s chin in his grip. He presses Kevin’s head back into the bed, plastering Kevin’s limp body against it, before he pushes the strap as deep as it can go — not just once, but repeatedly, trading his previous slow pace for deep, hard thrusts, as quick in succession as he can make them be.
Kevin arches off the bed, head lolling back blissfully. “Andrew, fuck,” he moans breathily.
“I am,” flatly, Andrew replies.
His heart feels anything but flat — looking at Kevin’s pleasure makes something hungry gnaw on Andrew’s insides, begging to be released; if he could, he’d keep Kevin like this every day. No more Exy, no more having to run from Riko Moriyama’s shadow, no more shouting matches over Andrew’s future: just Kevin, blissfully limp in Andrew’s bed, kept so high there is no reason for him to worry for anything beyond when Andrew can fuck him next and how hard.
What a sight it would be. The fantasy tickles Andrew just right — he wants this; might need it, even. How would life be, if he could always keep Kevin so sated?
“Right there,” Kevin exhales, voice pitching high. “Right there, Andrew, keep going.”
But Andrew does hope the Palmetto walls aren’t as thin as they seem. It’d be very unfortunate to have to murder their next-door neighbors for all the moaning they’ve heard Kevin doing.
He pistons his hips against Kevin's, pulling out just until the tip brushes Kevin's prostate then slamming the strap all the way back in. Kevin scrambles for purchase, wrapping his arms around Andrew’s neck and pushing his face into Andrew’s shoulder, entirely out of his skin with pleasure.
Andrew digs his fingers into Kevin's thighs, relishing in the give of them as his thrusts turn harsher; less well-paced. He knows Kevin is nearing a second orgasm, just toeing the line of it, and he makes good on that promise: Andrew squeezes Kevin's thighs, and fucks him so hard the entire bed shakes with the force of it, hitting the wall behind them.
"Good?" Andrew gasps into Kevin's ear, feeling himself clench around nothing at Kevin's whiny little reply, soft and meek.
"So good," Kevin confirms in a whimper. "You're deeper than— than anyone's ever been."
"Mn," he murmurs, leaning his weight against Kevin and pushing him even flatter into the bed. He's so easy to subdue it is not even a struggle. "Isn't it so big? Doesn't it feel so good?"
Kevin babbles, "Yes, yes."
"Then you will come untouched a second time," Andrew tells him, ramping up his thrusts. "You can do that, can't you?"
"Ah— nhgn—" Kevin moans.
Andrew shushes him with a kiss. Or, better, several of them — he pecks Kevin's mouth and anything he can reach, ramming the toy into him until Kevin is a crumpled little thing, begging for breath. He opens his mouth in a long, silent moan, and Andrew uses it as an opportunity to shove his tongue as far as it can go inside Kevin's mouth.
Kevin comes. His entire body shudders, clinging to Andrew like glue, before he comes all over their shirts, kept as high as a kite all throughout it. Andrew fucks him through his orgasm, setting the pace to a lazy grind as Kevin contorts under him, spurting come over Andrew’s uniform shirt.
That'll stain, for sure. Andrew kind of doesn't give a fuck about it right now.
He unhooks Kevin's shaking hands from his hair, tangling his fingers between Kevin's and pressing them back into the bed. Andrew caresses the surface of Kevin’s palm with the tips of his fingers, raising shivers all over Kevin's arm when he smooths over the surgical scar cutting across his palm. He would know the expanse of Kevin's hand even in death, Andrew thinks — but he could never tell Kevin this.
Kevin's eyes are closed, and he looks blissfully fucked out, breaths coming out warm and sweet against Andrew's mouth. Kevin's eyebrows scrunch just so when Andrew’s shallow grinding touches upon a spot no doubt made sensitive by his orgasm, but he doesn't ask Andrew to stop fucking him through it.
Around Andrew’s waist, Kevin's thighs shake. He is not overstimulated; not yet, anyway, but he curls into himself the more the strap rubs against his insides, however gentle Andrew’s new pace is.
"I can't come anymore," Kevin tells him, eyelids droopy as he stares up at Andrew, all slow warmth. Andrew moves to pull out of him after turning off the vibration, but Kevin keeps him from it by squeezing his legs around Andrew. "No, don't pull out," he exhales softly, "stay inside a little longer. I like you inside."
Obeying, Andrew buries the toy back inside of Kevin, resting his weight against Kevin's chest. Hands creep into his hair, scratching at Andrew's scalp, though they are still just as shaky when Andrew isn’t fucking into him anymore.
Kevin sighs into his hair, a pleased little sound. "Do you think we can stay like this during the night?"
"You will be sore in the morning," Andrew reminds him, methodically stomping on the flicker of pleasure such a request brings within him. "And you will be detestable, at best, when you wake up."
"That's not a no."
"It isn't," he agrees.
Andrew tucks his arm between their bodies, reaching into the small space between his boxers and the strap. Without preamble, Andrew shoves his hand down his underwear, slipping his clit between his fingers and tugging hard.
He affords himself none of the teasing he did Kevin, exhaling quietly against Kevin's chest as he works himself into an orgasm. The movement of his hands makes the toy, still inside Kevin, bump into him just enough to have Kevin's breath hitching; both from pleasure and pain. He whines, and the sound brings back all of Andrew's fantasies in full force.
Enveloping warmth, Kevin's heavy weight on his lap, golden thighs straddling Andrew’s hips; making him fuck himself down onto Andrew, not moving an inch, the luxurious drag of velvety walls against a cockhead Andrew most certainly does not have. His chest soars with this silly daydream, and he wants it so bad his temples throb with it.
Andrew's orgasm hits him hard after that little sound. He'd been on edge for the best part of an hour, and so wet he would've been able to shove two fingers inside himself without any resistance: all it takes is some rough tugging before Andrew’s legs tense, and he is dripping his release, no doubt making the stain on his boxers all the worse.
There is time to deal with that later. For now, he is very interested in Kevin's shallow breathing, and the little sounds he makes when the strap shifts inside of him. Kevin crosses his ankles on Andrew’s lower back, the movement forcing the toy to slide deeper into him, and he will be untalkable to in the morning if they sleep like this.
However… he has asked for it. Kevin wants Andrew inside him for as long as it is possible; wants to be reminded of it when he moves. How can Andrew deny him this? No one has wanted him like this before.
“I will,” Andrew quietly tells him, at last, kissing down the tendon of Kevin’s neck. He sucks a hickey just under Kevin’s Adam’s apple, an uncontested claim, and Kevin’s legs tighten around him. Andrew, who has never been much for physical affection, thinks that he will die with this moment once it ends. “But do not act like you did not ask for this in the morning.”
“Okay,” Kevin agrees just as quietly. It means nothing — they both know that he will, and they both know that Andrew will pretend it is not so to fuss over him until he is no longer sore. This is a tried and true pathway for them; a story that repeats itself.
Kevin pats Andrew’s head, smoothing out the wildness of his curls. He is unbearable like this.