all my bases are belong to you: third base - Jesse/Andrew - NC17
Title: all my bases are belong to you: third base
Author: jeyhawk
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield
Beta: inbetweencabs! <333
Word Count: 2,484
Warning(s): Explicit.
Disclaimer: Not true. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. If you found this by googling yourself I would advise you to just not do that in the future. (BTW Andrew, your eyebrows are perfect. Go away now.)
Summary: College AU. Jesse and Andrew are roommates and best friends and sometimes (when Jesse's had more than three beers) they are more.
Notes: The second part of all my bases are belong to you. A little more talking, a little more back story and a lot more sex.
Second Base | NEW: Third Base
They don't talk about what happened at Justin's party. Andrew tries to bring it up, but it's surprisingly hard to work "do you remember that time I made you come by sucking your nipples through your shirt?" into polite conversation. They are still best friends and hang out all the time, but they don't talk about it and Jesse never drinks more than two beers.
Andrew can't shake the feeling that he took advantage of Jesse somehow, that he crossed some invisible line, because it's been three weeks and that's the longest they've gone without making out since this whole thing started.
--
"Just ask him out, for fuck’s sake," Emma says, slapping Andrew over the back of the head when he asks her and Andrew would if he wasn't so terrified that Jesse would say no.
Kissing your roommate/best friend when drunk is one thing, going out with him is another thing altogether and while Andrew thinks this is the best idea there ever was, he has a feeling that Jesse doesn't agree, and not only because Jesse once showed him his "why I shouldn't date in college" mind map. (Vodka does strange things to Jesse and there's never any making out.)
Jesse isn't like Andrew. Jesse doesn't take the day as it comes and hopes for the best; he makes plans and sticks to them, and he worries about all the possible outcomes of any given decision. Andrew is neurotic too, excessively so, but compared to Jesse he's a modicum of calm rationality.
--
It's Justin, as always, that finally breaks the status quo.
"We're having a party tonight," he informs them over breakfast, leaning over to steal Andrew's toast. "And you're having more than three beers," he adds, waving the toast in Jesse's face. "I can't take all this tension."
Jesse blushes into his coffee and Andrew wants to drown in his, but of course they go along with Justin's plans because it's impossible to say no to him.
"I remember the first two weeks I lived here," Jesse says when Justin's walked out. "When I thought Justin was a figment of your imagination… I miss those days."
Andrew laughs, smiling his hopeless infatuation into his coffee. Sometimes he misses those days too - when hanging out was easy, when caring for Jesse didn't make him feel like a creep, when he sometimes heard Jesse moan at night and it didn't make him want to break down the wall between their rooms.
"Besides, he's wrong anyway," Jesse says, fingers drumming a silent melody against the table. "We're not tense."
"Of course not," Andrew lies, clutching at his cup so hard he's afraid it might break.
Jesse picks up his discarded book and leaves through it until he finds his bookmark. It's a postcard from London that Andrew sent him the last time he went home.
"I'm still going to have four beers," Jesse says without looking up.
"Thank God," Andrew breathes and he's pretty sure Jesse's hiding a smile into his book.
--
"When I become famous, I'm going to make a movie out of your ridiculous love story," Emma says that night. "Like Brokeback Mountain but without the heartache."
She and Andrew are sitting on the fire escape, watching the party unfold in the living room like a particularly horrific reality show. Andrew's nursing a drink, something sweet and pink, while Emma occasionally takes a mouthful of whiskey straight from the bottle.
"Want some?" she asks, holding the bottle up.
Andrew shakes his head, taking another sip from his drink. Jesse's on the couch, trying to explain something to a pretty girl that involves a lot of gestures. Andrew has no idea who the girl is and he's pretty sure Jesse doesn't either, but she seems mesmerized by whatever it is he's saying.
Every now and then, Jesse looks up and catches Andrew's eyes, lifting his beer in a salute. It's his fourth one, not that Andrew's been counting or anything, and he's pretty sure Jesse isn't planning on making out with the girl. Andrew still hates her a little; it's a matter of principle.
Emma sighs, leaning her head back against the railing. "I'm so happy I have you two in my life," she says. "You're a constant source of entertainment."
She's been saying that since junior year when Andrew looked at Jesse across the room at some lame party and realized he was in love. He might have been well into his cups at the time, but the sentiment stuck and almost a year later, it's no less true.
Inside, Jesse puts down his empty bottle and smiles blandly at something the girl says but instead of catching Andrew's eye across the room, he accepts a fifth beer from Joe who happens to be passing by. Andrew sits up straight, making the fire escape creak in protest.
"He's having a fifth beer," he says. "He's…. Emma, he's drinking more."
Emma laughs. "I hardly think a fifth beer will make a difference," she says. "I remember the party where he drank two thirds of a bottle of tequila and he was still standing at the end of it."
"What if five beers mean that he hates me?" Andrew asks. "Then what?"
Emma gives him a look, it's very condescending. "I am one hundred percent certain that Jesse Eisenberg is incapable of hating you," she says. "He's quite obviously head over heels for your British hipster self. God knows why."
"He never drinks five beers," Andrew mutters, carefully putting his drink down and pretending that Emma's statement doesn't make his stomach flutter.
The thing about Jesse is that he doesn't get drunk like other people (Andrew). He doesn't get clingy, or rambly or handsy. He gets quiet and thoughtful, weighing his words very carefully, and even after two thirds of a bottle of tequila he can still walk in an almost straight, albeit very slow, line. It's like he doesn't let himself be drunk, unable to relax into it.
Now, he laughs at something the girl says and pushes himself up from the couch. He's still holding that fifth bottle loosely in his hand as he makes his way towards the half stairs that leads to the back of the apartment. He pauses at the very edge, looking straight at Andrew for a moment, and then he's gone.
"Go," Emma hisses, elbowing him in the side.
"Maybe it wasn't…"
"Go."
--
Andrew finds Jesse in his room, sitting on the bed with his legs sprawled wide. He smiles when Andrew walks in.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," Andrew replies nervously, staying just inside the door.
"Lock the door," Jesse says.
Andrew gulps, but does as he's told. They've made it out in bedrooms before but never on a bed and never in Jesse's room; it feels like crossing a line. Not that they're making out. Yet.
--
Five minutes later they are making out, lying on their sides on Jesse's bed, one of Jesse's legs hooked over Andrew's hips and it's so good, so intimate, that Andrew can barely hold himself back. He wants to roll on top of Jesse, wants to push him into the bed, and rub their dicks together until they both come. He just wants, so damn much he's breathless with it.
"I think about you all the time," Jesse whispers, digging his fingers into Andrew's shoulder blades. "All the fucking time. In the shower when I… I think about you."
"Oh God," Andrew breathes, pulling Jesse into another kiss. "Me too, Jess. Me too."
It's embarrassing to think about how many times he's jerked off thinking about Jesse. Hundreds, maybe thousands.
"I think about your mouth," Jesse murmurs, pulling back to look at Andrew in the dim light falling in through the half-closed blinds. "And all the things I wish I was brave enough to do to it."
"Anything," Andrew says. "You can have anything."
Jesse rubs his thumb over Andrew's lower lip, slick with spit, and Andrew lets out a harsh breath. Jesse squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks flushing dark.
"I think about you blowing me," he mumbles, almost too softly to be heard.
"I can… I want to… Please, Jess, let me…"
Jesse's eyes opens and they hold each other's gaze for a moment. Jesse's eyes are dark, pupils blown, and he worries at his lower lip. Andrew leans forward, sucking it into his mouth and rubbing his tongue over the offended spot.
"Fuck, Jess," he moans when they pull apart. "I just want you so fucking much. All the time."
That seems to be the key, because Jesse nods almost imperceptibly and rolls over on his back.
"You can do anything to me," he says.
Andrew makes him sit up against the pillow, pulling his shirt off along the way. "I want you to watch," he murmurs, catching Jesse's lips in another kiss. "I want you to see what you do to me."
Jesse groans weakly, pulling at the hem of Andrew's shirt. Andrew obliges him, pulling the shirt off, before he starts working on Jesse's jeans, pulling them down his legs. Jesse bites down on his lower lip again when Andrew moves to kneel between his legs and pushes up to kiss him.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "I don’t want to…"
"Yeah," Jesse murmurs. "I want…"
Jesse's pale in the silvery light, almost white, but there's a flush spreading down his flat chest and the narrow trail of dusty hair leading in to his boxers. Andrew rakes his hands up Jesse's sides to span his ribcage, watching Jesse's face as he thumbs at his nipples.
"Oh," Jesse gasps, shifting his hips against the bed. "Yeah…"
"So gorgeous," Andrew breathes, kissing a line down Jesse's throat. "Jesse… Jess, you're so…"
His mouth finds one of Jesse's pebbled nipples and rubs the flat of his tongue over it, moving his hands to span Jesse's narrows hips. Jesse moans deeply, hips twitching against Andrew's palms and Andrew does it again and again, sucking the tight nub into his mouth.
Jesse digs his fingers into Andrew's hair, pressing against his scalp. "Fuck," he gasps. "Jesus."
Andrew moves to give the other nipple the same attention, rubbing his thumbs over Jesse's quivering stomach. Jesse makes the hottest noises known to man, gasps and breathy whimpers that go straight to Andrew's dick. He can still hear the party over the roar in his ears and he's suddenly jealous of anyone that might walk by and hear Jesse like this, because they don't have the right.
"Jesse, baby," he murmurs, shifting up to kiss Jesse's parted lips again, licking lazily into his mouth. "You have to try to keep it down."
He can feel Jesse's face flushing hot against his.
"I love your noises," he whispers. "God, they're so fucking hot, but there's… the party."
"Okay," Jesse mumbles. "I'll try."
Andrew starts kissing his way down Jesse's body again and Jesse throws one of his arms over his head, muffling his moans into the crook of his elbow. Jesse's stomach quivers under Andrew's mouth, muscles contracting, and he dips his tongue into Jesse's belly button, pulling another muffled groan from his lips.
Andrew never imagined that Jesse would be this responsive in bed, this loud, and it's such a turn on. Andrew always appreciated vocal partners and this is Jesse, who Andrew loves so stupidly his heart can't even deal.
"You're so perfect," he whispers into Jesse's skin. "So beautiful."
He moves lower, mouthing at Jesse's straining erection through his boxers, breathing in deep. It's hard to tell who moans the loudest. Then he's easing Jesse's boxers down to bunch around his thighs and Jesse's cock springs out, curling hard and flushed against his stomach. The head is wet with pre-come, slippery and shining, and Andrew makes a sound deep in his throat.
The thing is Andrew loves sucking cock and Jesse's… Jesse's is perfect. The length, the girth, the slight curve to the left, everything about it is perfect and Andrew's mouth waters with anticipation.
"I'm not gonna…" Jesse croaks. "I'm not gonna last long."
"That's okay," Andrew breathes, licking a stripe up the underside.
Jesse's cock jerks against his tongue and he makes a sound as if he's dying as Andrew slides his lips over the head, sucking hard. Andrew presses his hands into Jesse's trembling hips, lifting his eyes to Jesse's face as slides his mouth down.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," Jesse chants, digging his nails into Andrew's scalp. "I'm gonna… Andrew, I'm…"
Jesse tries to pull him off, tries to shift away, but Andrew loves the weight of him against his tongue, loves the way he can feel Jesse's cock jerk and swell, pre-come flooding his mouth. He keeps on sucking, long luxurious pulls with his cheeks hollowed and his lashes fluttering. He braces one hand over Jesse's abdomen and unceremoniously shoves the other one into his jeans.
"Oh, oh, oh, Andrew, I'm…"
Jesse moans rises in pitch, hips jerking and cock leaking and Andrew swallows around him. Jesse comes with a soundless scream, back arching and fingers pulling hard on Andrew's hair. Andrew swallows the first few pulses but then he pulls off, jerking Jesse through the rest to be able to watch his face.
"Holy fuck," Jesse breathes, collapsing back against the bed.
He tugs on Andrew's hair and Andrew reluctantly pulls his hands out of his way too tight pants to crawl up Jesse's body. He's panting hard, lips stinging, and he's so fucking hard he can't see straight. Jesse stares at his mouth for a moment and then they're kissing, sharing Jesse's musky taste between their mouths in a way Andrew never imagined Jesse would allow.
Jesse's fingers fumble desperately with his fly, pushing his jeans and boxer brief down impatiently and then Jesse's hand is closing around Andrew's dick and he comes all over Jesse's stomach, groaning into his neck before Jesse's even managed to figure out the grip. Andrew's toes curl with the force of his orgasm and he gasps wetly into Jesse's skin.
Jesse laughs, a little nervous maybe, and Andrew lifts his head to kiss him softly.
"You okay?" he asks, mouthing at Jesse's chin and kissing his cheek. "I didn't… uh… use you."
Jesse laughs again turning his head into Andrew's and kissing his mouth. "You are neurotic about the weirdest things," he says.
Andrew thinks that's pretty rich, but he smiles into Jesse's mouth, licking at his tongue. Somewhere the party is still going on, muffled music coming from the living room. But in Jesse's room everything is quiet and tender and easy, the two of them trading kisses and gentle touches, cleaning off with napkins from Jesse's nightstand, and then kissing again until Andrew drifts off to sleep with one leg between Jesse's and his fingers tangled in Jesse's curls.
--
NEXT.
Author: jeyhawk
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield
Beta: inbetweencabs! <333
Word Count: 2,484
Warning(s): Explicit.
Disclaimer: Not true. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. If you found this by googling yourself I would advise you to just not do that in the future. (BTW Andrew, your eyebrows are perfect. Go away now.)
Summary: College AU. Jesse and Andrew are roommates and best friends and sometimes (when Jesse's had more than three beers) they are more.
Notes: The second part of all my bases are belong to you. A little more talking, a little more back story and a lot more sex.
Second Base | NEW: Third Base
They don't talk about what happened at Justin's party. Andrew tries to bring it up, but it's surprisingly hard to work "do you remember that time I made you come by sucking your nipples through your shirt?" into polite conversation. They are still best friends and hang out all the time, but they don't talk about it and Jesse never drinks more than two beers.
Andrew can't shake the feeling that he took advantage of Jesse somehow, that he crossed some invisible line, because it's been three weeks and that's the longest they've gone without making out since this whole thing started.
--
"Just ask him out, for fuck’s sake," Emma says, slapping Andrew over the back of the head when he asks her and Andrew would if he wasn't so terrified that Jesse would say no.
Kissing your roommate/best friend when drunk is one thing, going out with him is another thing altogether and while Andrew thinks this is the best idea there ever was, he has a feeling that Jesse doesn't agree, and not only because Jesse once showed him his "why I shouldn't date in college" mind map. (Vodka does strange things to Jesse and there's never any making out.)
Jesse isn't like Andrew. Jesse doesn't take the day as it comes and hopes for the best; he makes plans and sticks to them, and he worries about all the possible outcomes of any given decision. Andrew is neurotic too, excessively so, but compared to Jesse he's a modicum of calm rationality.
--
It's Justin, as always, that finally breaks the status quo.
"We're having a party tonight," he informs them over breakfast, leaning over to steal Andrew's toast. "And you're having more than three beers," he adds, waving the toast in Jesse's face. "I can't take all this tension."
Jesse blushes into his coffee and Andrew wants to drown in his, but of course they go along with Justin's plans because it's impossible to say no to him.
"I remember the first two weeks I lived here," Jesse says when Justin's walked out. "When I thought Justin was a figment of your imagination… I miss those days."
Andrew laughs, smiling his hopeless infatuation into his coffee. Sometimes he misses those days too - when hanging out was easy, when caring for Jesse didn't make him feel like a creep, when he sometimes heard Jesse moan at night and it didn't make him want to break down the wall between their rooms.
"Besides, he's wrong anyway," Jesse says, fingers drumming a silent melody against the table. "We're not tense."
"Of course not," Andrew lies, clutching at his cup so hard he's afraid it might break.
Jesse picks up his discarded book and leaves through it until he finds his bookmark. It's a postcard from London that Andrew sent him the last time he went home.
"I'm still going to have four beers," Jesse says without looking up.
"Thank God," Andrew breathes and he's pretty sure Jesse's hiding a smile into his book.
--
"When I become famous, I'm going to make a movie out of your ridiculous love story," Emma says that night. "Like Brokeback Mountain but without the heartache."
She and Andrew are sitting on the fire escape, watching the party unfold in the living room like a particularly horrific reality show. Andrew's nursing a drink, something sweet and pink, while Emma occasionally takes a mouthful of whiskey straight from the bottle.
"Want some?" she asks, holding the bottle up.
Andrew shakes his head, taking another sip from his drink. Jesse's on the couch, trying to explain something to a pretty girl that involves a lot of gestures. Andrew has no idea who the girl is and he's pretty sure Jesse doesn't either, but she seems mesmerized by whatever it is he's saying.
Every now and then, Jesse looks up and catches Andrew's eyes, lifting his beer in a salute. It's his fourth one, not that Andrew's been counting or anything, and he's pretty sure Jesse isn't planning on making out with the girl. Andrew still hates her a little; it's a matter of principle.
Emma sighs, leaning her head back against the railing. "I'm so happy I have you two in my life," she says. "You're a constant source of entertainment."
She's been saying that since junior year when Andrew looked at Jesse across the room at some lame party and realized he was in love. He might have been well into his cups at the time, but the sentiment stuck and almost a year later, it's no less true.
Inside, Jesse puts down his empty bottle and smiles blandly at something the girl says but instead of catching Andrew's eye across the room, he accepts a fifth beer from Joe who happens to be passing by. Andrew sits up straight, making the fire escape creak in protest.
"He's having a fifth beer," he says. "He's…. Emma, he's drinking more."
Emma laughs. "I hardly think a fifth beer will make a difference," she says. "I remember the party where he drank two thirds of a bottle of tequila and he was still standing at the end of it."
"What if five beers mean that he hates me?" Andrew asks. "Then what?"
Emma gives him a look, it's very condescending. "I am one hundred percent certain that Jesse Eisenberg is incapable of hating you," she says. "He's quite obviously head over heels for your British hipster self. God knows why."
"He never drinks five beers," Andrew mutters, carefully putting his drink down and pretending that Emma's statement doesn't make his stomach flutter.
The thing about Jesse is that he doesn't get drunk like other people (Andrew). He doesn't get clingy, or rambly or handsy. He gets quiet and thoughtful, weighing his words very carefully, and even after two thirds of a bottle of tequila he can still walk in an almost straight, albeit very slow, line. It's like he doesn't let himself be drunk, unable to relax into it.
Now, he laughs at something the girl says and pushes himself up from the couch. He's still holding that fifth bottle loosely in his hand as he makes his way towards the half stairs that leads to the back of the apartment. He pauses at the very edge, looking straight at Andrew for a moment, and then he's gone.
"Go," Emma hisses, elbowing him in the side.
"Maybe it wasn't…"
"Go."
--
Andrew finds Jesse in his room, sitting on the bed with his legs sprawled wide. He smiles when Andrew walks in.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," Andrew replies nervously, staying just inside the door.
"Lock the door," Jesse says.
Andrew gulps, but does as he's told. They've made it out in bedrooms before but never on a bed and never in Jesse's room; it feels like crossing a line. Not that they're making out. Yet.
--
Five minutes later they are making out, lying on their sides on Jesse's bed, one of Jesse's legs hooked over Andrew's hips and it's so good, so intimate, that Andrew can barely hold himself back. He wants to roll on top of Jesse, wants to push him into the bed, and rub their dicks together until they both come. He just wants, so damn much he's breathless with it.
"I think about you all the time," Jesse whispers, digging his fingers into Andrew's shoulder blades. "All the fucking time. In the shower when I… I think about you."
"Oh God," Andrew breathes, pulling Jesse into another kiss. "Me too, Jess. Me too."
It's embarrassing to think about how many times he's jerked off thinking about Jesse. Hundreds, maybe thousands.
"I think about your mouth," Jesse murmurs, pulling back to look at Andrew in the dim light falling in through the half-closed blinds. "And all the things I wish I was brave enough to do to it."
"Anything," Andrew says. "You can have anything."
Jesse rubs his thumb over Andrew's lower lip, slick with spit, and Andrew lets out a harsh breath. Jesse squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks flushing dark.
"I think about you blowing me," he mumbles, almost too softly to be heard.
"I can… I want to… Please, Jess, let me…"
Jesse's eyes opens and they hold each other's gaze for a moment. Jesse's eyes are dark, pupils blown, and he worries at his lower lip. Andrew leans forward, sucking it into his mouth and rubbing his tongue over the offended spot.
"Fuck, Jess," he moans when they pull apart. "I just want you so fucking much. All the time."
That seems to be the key, because Jesse nods almost imperceptibly and rolls over on his back.
"You can do anything to me," he says.
Andrew makes him sit up against the pillow, pulling his shirt off along the way. "I want you to watch," he murmurs, catching Jesse's lips in another kiss. "I want you to see what you do to me."
Jesse groans weakly, pulling at the hem of Andrew's shirt. Andrew obliges him, pulling the shirt off, before he starts working on Jesse's jeans, pulling them down his legs. Jesse bites down on his lower lip again when Andrew moves to kneel between his legs and pushes up to kiss him.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "I don’t want to…"
"Yeah," Jesse murmurs. "I want…"
Jesse's pale in the silvery light, almost white, but there's a flush spreading down his flat chest and the narrow trail of dusty hair leading in to his boxers. Andrew rakes his hands up Jesse's sides to span his ribcage, watching Jesse's face as he thumbs at his nipples.
"Oh," Jesse gasps, shifting his hips against the bed. "Yeah…"
"So gorgeous," Andrew breathes, kissing a line down Jesse's throat. "Jesse… Jess, you're so…"
His mouth finds one of Jesse's pebbled nipples and rubs the flat of his tongue over it, moving his hands to span Jesse's narrows hips. Jesse moans deeply, hips twitching against Andrew's palms and Andrew does it again and again, sucking the tight nub into his mouth.
Jesse digs his fingers into Andrew's hair, pressing against his scalp. "Fuck," he gasps. "Jesus."
Andrew moves to give the other nipple the same attention, rubbing his thumbs over Jesse's quivering stomach. Jesse makes the hottest noises known to man, gasps and breathy whimpers that go straight to Andrew's dick. He can still hear the party over the roar in his ears and he's suddenly jealous of anyone that might walk by and hear Jesse like this, because they don't have the right.
"Jesse, baby," he murmurs, shifting up to kiss Jesse's parted lips again, licking lazily into his mouth. "You have to try to keep it down."
He can feel Jesse's face flushing hot against his.
"I love your noises," he whispers. "God, they're so fucking hot, but there's… the party."
"Okay," Jesse mumbles. "I'll try."
Andrew starts kissing his way down Jesse's body again and Jesse throws one of his arms over his head, muffling his moans into the crook of his elbow. Jesse's stomach quivers under Andrew's mouth, muscles contracting, and he dips his tongue into Jesse's belly button, pulling another muffled groan from his lips.
Andrew never imagined that Jesse would be this responsive in bed, this loud, and it's such a turn on. Andrew always appreciated vocal partners and this is Jesse, who Andrew loves so stupidly his heart can't even deal.
"You're so perfect," he whispers into Jesse's skin. "So beautiful."
He moves lower, mouthing at Jesse's straining erection through his boxers, breathing in deep. It's hard to tell who moans the loudest. Then he's easing Jesse's boxers down to bunch around his thighs and Jesse's cock springs out, curling hard and flushed against his stomach. The head is wet with pre-come, slippery and shining, and Andrew makes a sound deep in his throat.
The thing is Andrew loves sucking cock and Jesse's… Jesse's is perfect. The length, the girth, the slight curve to the left, everything about it is perfect and Andrew's mouth waters with anticipation.
"I'm not gonna…" Jesse croaks. "I'm not gonna last long."
"That's okay," Andrew breathes, licking a stripe up the underside.
Jesse's cock jerks against his tongue and he makes a sound as if he's dying as Andrew slides his lips over the head, sucking hard. Andrew presses his hands into Jesse's trembling hips, lifting his eyes to Jesse's face as slides his mouth down.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," Jesse chants, digging his nails into Andrew's scalp. "I'm gonna… Andrew, I'm…"
Jesse tries to pull him off, tries to shift away, but Andrew loves the weight of him against his tongue, loves the way he can feel Jesse's cock jerk and swell, pre-come flooding his mouth. He keeps on sucking, long luxurious pulls with his cheeks hollowed and his lashes fluttering. He braces one hand over Jesse's abdomen and unceremoniously shoves the other one into his jeans.
"Oh, oh, oh, Andrew, I'm…"
Jesse moans rises in pitch, hips jerking and cock leaking and Andrew swallows around him. Jesse comes with a soundless scream, back arching and fingers pulling hard on Andrew's hair. Andrew swallows the first few pulses but then he pulls off, jerking Jesse through the rest to be able to watch his face.
"Holy fuck," Jesse breathes, collapsing back against the bed.
He tugs on Andrew's hair and Andrew reluctantly pulls his hands out of his way too tight pants to crawl up Jesse's body. He's panting hard, lips stinging, and he's so fucking hard he can't see straight. Jesse stares at his mouth for a moment and then they're kissing, sharing Jesse's musky taste between their mouths in a way Andrew never imagined Jesse would allow.
Jesse's fingers fumble desperately with his fly, pushing his jeans and boxer brief down impatiently and then Jesse's hand is closing around Andrew's dick and he comes all over Jesse's stomach, groaning into his neck before Jesse's even managed to figure out the grip. Andrew's toes curl with the force of his orgasm and he gasps wetly into Jesse's skin.
Jesse laughs, a little nervous maybe, and Andrew lifts his head to kiss him softly.
"You okay?" he asks, mouthing at Jesse's chin and kissing his cheek. "I didn't… uh… use you."
Jesse laughs again turning his head into Andrew's and kissing his mouth. "You are neurotic about the weirdest things," he says.
Andrew thinks that's pretty rich, but he smiles into Jesse's mouth, licking at his tongue. Somewhere the party is still going on, muffled music coming from the living room. But in Jesse's room everything is quiet and tender and easy, the two of them trading kisses and gentle touches, cleaning off with napkins from Jesse's nightstand, and then kissing again until Andrew drifts off to sleep with one leg between Jesse's and his fingers tangled in Jesse's curls.
--
NEXT.