Andy Craig was a mess.

Granted, Andy was usually a mess. The other day, he'd accidentally had his cellphone service shut off because he'd apparently forgotten to pay the bill for three months and had just ignored the constant calls from an unknown number he'd been receiving that were apparently warnings from his service provider.

And at work the other day, he'd accidentally managed to send an automated 'out of office' reply to every email his boss had ever sent him, which his boss was not exactly pleased about. Andy still wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to do that.

And the other day, in a bid to be healthier now that he was—ostensibly—an adult, Andy had tried to make chicken and ended up melting a spatula, which promptly fused to the pan.

So, yeah, Andy was used to being a mess, but right now, he was even more of one. The wedding ceremony was due to start at any moment, but Andy hadn't brought a plus one, and so he was sitting awkwardly by himself at the back of the venue. He could see a group of people from the Bellamy crew team, and Tina turned around, spotting him and waving.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his nicest suit, and Andy discreetly pulled it out, rolling his eyes as he read the text.

>>RORY: is he there? did you guys bang yet?

Last year, when he and Rory were housemates, Andy had made the mistake of telling Rory about what had happened with Drew. Andy had downplayed it, telling Rory it had just been a casual hook-up. But when he'd mentioned that he'd be seeing Drew again at Max and Finn's wedding, Rory had been more than eager to tease Andy about it.

Which, Andy figured, he probably deserved, given how often he teased Rory about, well, pretty much everything.

Andy didn't respond, and he silenced his phone before sliding it back in his pocket. He scanned the backs of heads, trying to spot Drew—it should have been easy, since Drew was so tall. It had been several years since he'd last seen Drew, though—maybe he was looking right at Drew and simply didn't recognize him.

Andy had given up pretending he wasn't nervous to see Drew again. When he'd first gotten the invitation to the wedding, it had been an idle thought—Drew will be there. But over the next couple months, it had grown into something close to an obsession that plagued him day in and day out.

Drew will be there. Maybe he'll bring a boyfriend. Maybe he won't bring a boyfriend. Maybe he'll still feel something for you. He probably won't. He's moved on. You clearly haven't. You should have asked for more if you had the chance. You're pathetic for hanging onto this. You can barely cook chicken without starting a fire—why would he want you?

It was exhausting.

Andy had come a long way in the years since he'd graduated college. He'd made it through grad school—somehow—and was slowly figuring out how to be an adult. He had a real job and his own apartment now, after moving out of the grimy, rundown apartment he'd shared with Rory and two other guys in their MBA program. He even hung out with Noel sometimes, though that was still mostly to appease their mother.

But Drew had come even further.

Drew had never had a particularly active social media presence, but Andy had been lightly stalking him over the past two years—though Andy figured he did retain certain stalking privileges, seeing as he'd been Drew's best friend all through college.

Drew was pretty terrible about keeping in touch—but then again, so was Andy. And Andy couldn't blame Drew, because Drew was clearly too busy kicking ass with his career and life to update his social media.

Drew had thrived at his job in Chicago, and he'd been promoted almost immediately to a position that flew him all over the world for… whatever it was that Drew actually did. He'd had a string of boyfriends, too, it seemed—not that Andy noticed or cared or anything. Drew, of course, hadn't posted anything about this, but Andy had looked through the profiles of the people who were tagging Drew in photos, and luckily they'd provided Andy with the information he'd been trying to find.

Of course, Andy only ever stalked Drew when he was drunk, alone in bed after a night out with his friends, feeling dizzy and a little miserable.

If Drew had been stalking Andy—which he wasn't—he would have seen a very different picture, though. Social Media Andy had his arm around a different girl every weekend, was always at the lake or at some sporting event with a large group of friends. Social Media Andy was funny and outgoing and adventurous, and definitely wasn't hung up on a guy he hadn't even dated in the first place.

Andy mentally shook himself, trying to bring himself back to the present moment. The last thing he needed was to spiral into anxiety at his friends' wedding.

"Anyone sitting here?" a voice said, and Andy glanced up to see—

Drew.

His heart leapt.

"Go for it," Andy said, grinning. Drew slid into the seat beside Andy just as the music started.

"Flight got delayed," Drew said by way of explanation. He was still a little breathless, and Andy could smell his cologne, deep and spicy.

Andy wanted to tease Drew, but the ceremony was starting.

And, Andy noted with pleasure, Drew hadn't brought a plus one.

* * *

The wedding was, of course, perfect, and Andy didn't doubt that Finn had driven himself crazy planning out every single detail. The wedding and reception were held at a waterfront park in Linfield, with a gorgeous view of the West Fork River, where Max and Finn had rowed together for four years. It was a crisp fall day, warm and bright, the leaves just beginning to turn gold and scarlet.

The ceremony itself was quick and non-traditional, but it suited Max and Finn—anyone who looked at them could feel the love they shared radiating between them. Andy had no doubt that their relationship would withstand the test of time. The wedding itself, as Max had joked to Andy a few weeks ago, was just a formality and a great excuse for a giant party.

Though they'd sat together during the ceremony, Andy didn't see much of Drew during the first part of the reception.

And, if he was being honest with himself, he was avoiding Drew.

It was stupid, he knew. He'd spent the last few months looking forward to seeing his old friend again, but now that the day was finally here, he couldn't quite manage to actually have a conversation with Drew.

So Andy focused on flitting from one group of people to the next, always with a fresh cocktail from the open bar in his hand, talking with his old teammates and the people he'd gone to school with.

Andy had been aiming for a pleasant buzz to get rid of his ever-mounting social anxiety, but he overshot it. He ducked out of the reception area, walking down towards the water. His brother was standing there, and in the distance, Andy saw Max and Finn taking pictures with their families.

"You're being weird," Noel muttered to him. Though Noel had known Max and Finn very tangentially through Andy, he was actually there as a plus-one for one of Finn's sister's friends who was pretty much a member of Finn's family.

"I'm not being weird," Andy said, a little too loudly. He gulped down a tiny water bottle he'd swiped on the way out.

Noel rolled his eyes, looking out at the water.

"Just go to a therapist already," he said.

"I don't—what—" Andy stammered.

"I can tell you're stressing out," Noel said, eyeing his brother, and Andy glared back at him. Rory had been on his case about seeking help for the bouts of anxiety that flared up at inopportune times, and he didn't need Noel nagging him, too.

"I'm fine," Andy said. "Just… trying to sober up a bit before dinner."

Noel shrugged and resumed watching the sun slip behind the buildings of downtown Linfield, painting the sky purple and orange and red and pink.

"I'm very drunk as well," Noel said, and Andy snorted.

"You? Now? Seriously?" Andy asked in amazement. Noel nodded. He didn't look drunk at all—though Noel had always held his cards close to his skinny chest.

"Yes," Noel said. "Had champagne but then I realized that I'd forgotten to eat today. So I came out here."

Andy rolled his eyes at the thought of Noel calmly assessing the situation and removing himself from the party to be drunk down where there were currently ducks settling in for the night on the banks of the river.

"Hey, you remember that night in college when I found you in front of a frat party?" Andy said, the memory coming back to him suddenly. He hadn't thought about that incident in years, and now that he was far removed from the concern he'd felt, it was pretty funny.

"Yes," Noel said. "Well, to clarify, I remember pieces of it."

"You are such a weirdo," Andy said, punching his brother lightly in the shoulder, but his voice was warm with affection. "Checking off your stupid college bucket list."

"I hadn't intended to check off both go to a frat party and throw up on myself in one night," Noel said.

"Wait—that was really on your—oh," Andy stopped himself, seeing the faint grin playing on Noel's face. Andy rolled his eyes.

They stood in silence for a while, the ducks making soft little duck-noises nearby. Andy could still hear the music and chatter filtering out from the reception. It was colder now that the sun had set, and he felt a little steadier.

"I'm gonna head in," Andy said after a moment.

"I'll come with you," Noel said.

Andy paused at the doorway, Noel wandering off to meet up with his boyfriend again. He'd forgotten to answer Rory, and when he pulled out his phone he found several unread texts from Rory.

>>RORY: he's there right??

>>RORY: how's it going

>>RORY: any sign of a boyfriend???

>>RORY: im assuming your silence means you're banging

>>RORY: answer me, Andrew

>>RORY: come on!!! don't leave me hanging!!!

He'd then sent a string of rather lewd emojis.

Andy rolled his eyes as he tapped out a quick response.

>>ANDY: I'm at the reception, you loser. no plus one but I haven’t had a chance to really talk to him yet

Andy neglected to mention that he'd been avoiding Drew so far. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and went inside.

* * *

Though Andy and Drew were seated at the same table for dinner, there wasn't much chance for intimate conversation, as their tablemates were other members of the crew team. The table was easily the rowdiest one there, and by the end of it, Tina was sitting on Andy's lap, and Max and Finn were wedged into Tina's chair while the table swapped stories about regattas and practices from long ago.

Andy felt himself relaxing at last.

But when the dance floor began to fill up, Andy realized he had no idea where Drew had gone.

His heart sunk as he looked around—he'd kick himself if he'd spent the whole night avoiding Drew, only to find out that Drew had left early.

He scanned the dance floor and the other tables, but there was no sign of Drew. Hit by a sudden burst of inspiration, Andy slipped out of the reception area, finding a set of steps that led up to the rooftop patio of the venue.

And there Drew was, leaning against the railing, looking out at the glittering city. He'd changed in the past few years—he was still in great shape, but he looked thinner, leaner, and he held himself differently. It was as if, in the two years since Andy had seen him, Drew had shed the last vestiges of childhood and stepped firmly into being an adult.

The look suited him.

"I thought I'd find you here," Andy said.

Drew started slightly in surprise, glancing over his shoulder as Andy came up to the railing beside him. Drew had let his facial hair grow out, and the neatly trimmed stubble suited his strong, angular features.

"Yeah," Drew said with a crooked grin. "Had to get away from all the people for a little bit."

"I can go if—" Andy said, falling over himself to give Drew an out. He'd always felt so comfortable around Drew, and yet, now, he felt like he was on an awkward first date.

"Nah," Drew said, waving his hand. "You don't count."

Andy felt warmed from the inside out. He bit back a broad grin, and they stood quietly, admiring the view. He urged himself to be patient, but suddenly he was filled with the burning need to make up for lost time, to learn about how Drew had spent every moment of every day since Andy had last seen him.

"How've you been?" Andy asked, breaking the silence. "I can't believe it's been, what, two years since I last saw you?"

"Yup," Drew said. "Graduation."

"You're still working at the same place, right?" Andy asked. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Drew said, nodding. A smile spread across his face, the one Drew wore when he was talking about something he was genuinely interested in. "I really love it. Just got a promotion, actually."

"Hey, congrats, man," Andy said. "What are you doing now?"

"Same stuff, but higher pay," Drew said. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know," Andy said vaguely. He wanted to keep the conversation centered on Drew, but of course Drew was too polite for that. Andy suddenly felt decidedly lame in comparison to Drew. "Finished grad school. Started a new job recently."

"Do you like it?" Drew asked, raising his eyebrow. "You don't sound thrilled."

"I do like it," Andy said. "It's just weird being… I dunno. Out of school. In the real world. A grown-up." Andy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

In the growing darkness, Andy saw Drew smiling.

They stood quietly for a while longer, and Andy realized that, if he left things up to Drew, they wouldn't get anywhere.

"So," Andy blurted out. "You, uh… seeing anyone?"

His face had turned bright red, but luckily Drew was still looking at the skyline and didn’t see. He'd wanted to sound casual, as if he could care less if Drew were dating someone, but instead his voice had practically cracked.

"Nah," Drew said, shaking his head. "Married to my job, and all that."

Andy felt like cheering.

Of course, Drew not dating anyone was a far cry from Drew being interested in hooking up with Andy one last time, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.

"Are you?" Drew asked. "Seeing anyone, I mean."

Andy snorted at the thought. He'd never actually dated in college, opting for brief, emotionally-vacant flings instead, and now, thanks to his reputation, Andy was pretty sure that even if he'd wanted to start dating seriously, none of the women he knew would have him.

"No," he said. "I think I've burned so many bridges that the women of Linfield have collectively agreed to never sleep with me again."

Drew let out laugh that Andy couldn't quite interpret.

Andy felt strange—a little bit like he was going to throw up from nerves, but also a little bit like he could go out and run a marathon.

He was quiet for a moment, gathering up his courage, like a diver standing on the edge of a pool.

"Do you remember that time we snuck onto the roof of Branner Hall?" Andy said, trying to keep his voice level. "The night before graduation?"

"Yeah," Drew said.

"That was a good night," Andy said.

"That was a good night," Drew agreed.

Drew was still looking at the river, and Andy took a deep breath. He'd always been so good at making the first move—but, then again, the first move had never seemed quite as important as this.

Worst case scenario, he told himself, Drew said he wasn't interested. Andy would feel the sting of rejection, would like his wounds, would ultimately be fine.

He swallowed hard and stepped a little closer to Drew.

"Drew," Andy said softly. He wished Drew would look at him—not that Drew's expression ever revealed much, but Andy was desperate for any clue that might reveal what Drew was thinking.

Drew turned towards him.

"Yeah?" Drew said, his voice gone a little hoarse.

"It's… really good to see you again," Andy said.

"You too," Drew said.

And, before Andy could doubt himself, he placed his hand on Drew's chest and leaned forward, kissing Drew softly. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling Drew's lips warm against his, and he felt as if he were in a total freefall.

Andy pulled back, and he knew his face was bright red.

"Er, sorry," he said with a small smile. He wasn't really sorry, of course—especially not if Drew didn't mind that Andy had kissed him.

"Why are you apologizing?" Drew asked, and Andy was pleased to note the roughness in his voice.

"Probably should have… asked before I did that," Andy said, biting his lip.

"You never did before," Drew said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Andy leaned in again, so close the tips of their noses were touching.

"Good point," Andy whispered.

He kissed him again, and this time, Drew responded immediately, one hand snaking around the back of Andy's head, pulling him in close. Surprised, Andy stepped forward, his body pressing against Drew.

Drew deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out along Andy's lip as his hand wound around Andy's waist, and Andy just about melted against Drew. When Drew broke the kiss, Andy stared up at him, completely starstruck.

"You—you got really good at kissing," Andy said.

Drew snorted.

"Are you saying I was bad before?" he said, feigning indignation.

"No—no—" Andy said quickly, backtracking. "I just meant—I—"

Drew silenced Andy with another kiss, soft and chaste this time, and Andy was spared having to articulate how there was something different about Drew now—something commanding and confident, a kind of self-assurance that made heat pool in Andy's groin.

"I—I kinda thought you'd bring someone," Andy said, the words popping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I'm—I'm glad you didn't."

Drew brought his hand to cup Andy's cheek, and instinctively, Andy leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, he found Drew looking down at him, his expression intense and unfathomable.

"Andy," he said, his voice soft. They were still so close to each other that Andy could feel Drew's voice rumbling through his chest. "Will you come back to my hotel with me tonight?"

Andy would have done cartwheels if he'd been willing to peel himself away from Drew.

"Better idea—" Andy said with a grin. "You come back to my house. I don't live that far away, and I live alone, and there's snacks because I have leftover pizza in the fridge."

Drew laughed.

"I'm so full I'm not going to eat for a week, I think," Drew said. "But the rest sounds… very good."

"Well, you might work up an appetite after… you know…" Andy said, waggling his eyebrows at Drew lasciviously, and Drew laughed again.

"We probably shouldn't leave right away, though," Drew said, and Andy groaned.

"I guess you're right," Andy said. "Let's go socialize with our friends and pretend we love them."

"But we do love them," Drew reminded him as they went down the stairs.

"Shit," Andy said. "You're right. Goddamn those fuckers."

When they got back to the reception, they paused in the doorway, looking out over the scene. A slower song was playing now, and Max and Finn were in the center of the dancefloor, pivoting together slowly. They looked as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist to them.

"They really are so good together, aren't they?" Drew said softly. Andy glanced over to see something almost wistful on Drew's face.

"Yeah," Andy said. He felt a swell of something almost like pride as he looked back to Max and Finn—not that Andy had had anything to do with their relationship. He was just so happy for them, for how perfectly suited they were for each other.

"Do you want to dance?" Drew asked.

The question hit Andy like a fist, and his eyes went wide.

"Er—uh—" he stammered, and Drew waved his hand dismissively.

"It's fine," he said quickly "Forget I said anything."

"It's just that—" Andy started.

"Really, it's fine," Drew reassured him. "No worries."

Andy chewed on his lip as they made their way back to the table. They'd barely taken their seats when Tina was dragging Drew back onto the dancefloor for a dance as a slightly more upbeat song came on. Andy watched them twirl around the floor—Drew was a good foot and a half taller than Tina, and it was a pretty funny sight.

The truth was, he did want to dance with Drew. He wanted to lean his head against Drew's chest, the way Finn had rested his head on Max's shoulder. He wanted to close his eyes and forget everything except for the warm bulk of Drew holding him. He wanted Drew to press a kiss to the top of his head as they turned.

But the fact of the matter was that, in the years since he'd started messing around with Drew, Andy had slowly slipped back into the closet. It was simply easier that way, less complicated. He'd always been more attracted to women. His feelings for Drew were an exception, not the rule.

He'd only even told Rory because Rory had come out to him first, and the whole story of Andy and Drew and their senior year had just sort of slipped out of Andy as they dug into sandwiches. Rory's life had changed drastically in the last two years as well—after his girlfriend of many years had dumped him out of nowhere, he'd come out as bisexual and started dating an old high school flame he'd reconnected with.

But though he'd told Rory, Andy discovered there was a big difference between confiding in his best friend and slow dancing with a man in front of a huge crowd of people.

At one time in his life, he would have been willing to come out for Drew—but that seemed so, so long ago.

* * *

It was late when they finally said their goodbyes. If Max and Finn noticed that Andy and Drew were leaving together, they didn't say anything. Andy was suddenly shy and nervous again as their car whisked them across town to Andy's apartment.

"I, um—wasn't exactly expecting company," Andy said as he unlocked the door. "It's… not super neat."

Drew rolled his eyes.

"Andy, I lived with you for a year," he said. "Your apartment being a mess would not be a surprise to me."

"You say that now," Andy said as he felt around for the light switch. "But I think some of my laundry is so dirty it's starting to move on its own. Okay. Cover your eyes."

Drew gave him a strange look.

"I'm serious. Cover your eyes."

Drew laughed but put his hands over his eyes.

Andy flicked on the light, revealing his messy apartment. Yikes. It was worse than he'd remembered.

"Okay, give me… like, twenty seconds to clean up," Andy said. Drew carefully stepped inside, still covering his eyes, and Andy shut the door.

Drew counted loudly and slowly to twenty as Andy raced around, picking up the worst of the mess, stacking dishes in the sink and throwing clothes into the closet that he couldn't quite close. By a stroke of sheer luck, he'd actually changed his sheets only two days before—he would have rather died than admit to Drew that it was the first time he'd changed his sheets since he moved into this apartment months ago.

"Okay," Andy said, dashing back into the small living room, slightly breathless. "You can open your eyes. Tada!"

Drew did so, glancing around with a neutral expression.

"This isn't nearly as bad as I was expecting," he said with a crooked grin.

"Well, duh," Andy said. "That's because I just picked up the worst part. I can get a lot done in twenty seconds—wait—that sounded wrong."

Drew bit back a laugh at the unintended innuendo.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, and suddenly Andy felt as though he had no idea his limbs were for—his arms were hanging at his sides awkwardly, and though he wanted to say something suave and charming, nothing came out, and he realized he was just staring at Drew, slack-jawed.

He'd spent so long imagining every possible scenario for how seeing Drew at the wedding might go—and yet, now that Drew was here, in his apartment, alone with him, Andy had no idea what to do next.

Luckily, though, Drew seemed to have learned a couple of moves since they'd last been together.

Drew closed the distance between them, pulling Andy into a long, deep kiss that made Andy's stomach flip over and over. He had to stop himself from wondering how Drew had come to be such a good kisser, what had happened to make him so confident as he navigated Andy back towards the couch.

They shed the outer layers of their formal wear as they kissed, discarding their coats and shoes without ever parting. Drew sat on the couch, pulling Andy on top of him, and Andy straddled Drew's lap, looping his arms around Drew's neck as they continued to kiss.

Kissing Drew was somehow both utterly unfamiliar and like coming home, all at once. Underneath Drew's cologne, he recognized Drew's usual smell, like fresh laundry and pine needles.

Back in college, Drew had always seemed timid and reserved when he'd kissed Andy, as if he were constantly waiting for permission to go a little further. Now, though, Drew was pushing them ahead, his hands roving over Andy's hips and thighs as he bit Andy's lower lip. Andy was already hard, but he was still dressed, and the fabric of his clothing wasn't exactly conducive to writhing around in someone's lap.

"C'mon," Andy murmured, burying his face in Drew's neck as he wriggled out of his clothing, pulling Drew out of his as well. It wasn't exactly a graceful maneuver, but it got the job done, and suddenly Andy found himself sitting on the couch in just his underwear, with Drew kneeling between his parted thighs.

"Fuck," Drew whispered, his eyes raking over Andy's body, his gaze hot and possessive. "You're so goddamn hot."

"Same to you," Andy said, his voice nearly cracking again, and Drew grinned. Andy wasn't lying, either—Drew looked amazing. He'd lost some of the bulk he'd had when he rowed, but his frame was still trim and athletic, like a runner's.

Drew trailed his hand down Andy's bare chest, over his abs—which, Andy was pleased to note, were still visible, thanks to the time he spent in the gym. His hand stopped at the waistband of Andy's underwear, one finger slipping under the elastic.

Andy's breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, and he knew without looking that a damp patch was forming. He wished he could see Drew, wanted to know if he was as hard as Andy was.

"I never got a chance to blow you," Drew said, raising his eyebrow. "That was something I always regretted."

Andy's eyes shut for a moment, a hot throb of desire pulsing through him at Drew's words. He mumbled something incoherent, and Drew laughed.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," he said softly.

"I said," Andy said, clearing his throat. "You're—you're more than—more than welcome to if—if you want—"

"Good," Drew said, his eyes flashing. He dragged down Andy's underwear in one smooth movement, making Andy's cock bounce free. "Because I definitely do want to do that."

Andy felt very exposed, sitting there on his living room couch with the lights on, his underwear around his thighs, Drew kneeling in front of him. He'd never been particularly shy about his body, but he had the sudden urge to cover himself. This struck him as odd. He'd been naked with so many people by now—hell, he'd been naked with Drew before, but this moment felt different.

It felt important.

"You okay?" Drew asked, his voice soft, as he glanced up at Andy. Andy nodded breathlessly, hit by a pang of affection at the kindness and care in Drew's dark eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "Fine—"

He wanted to tell Drew what he was thinking, wanted to ask if Drew felt it, too—that, maybe, just maybe, this was more than two friends, once lovers, reuniting for one night.

But maybe Andy hadn't changed that much since graduation, because the words died in his throat, and he didn't have the courage to say it out loud.

If Drew noticed that Andy had decided not to say something, he didn't comment on it. He wrapped his hand around the base of Andy's cock and looked down at it, licking his lips. Andy's heart was hammering in his chest, and he let out a soft, broken moan as Drew brushed his lips over the head.

And if Andy thought Drew had been good at kissing, it was nothing compared to how good Drew was at giving head. Andy watched as Drew grazed his lips down the shaft, the heat of his breath sending shivers rippling through Andy's body.

Drew continued to explore Andy's cock—he wasn't teasing him, exactly, but there was never quite enough pressure or quite enough heat, and soon Andy was wriggling on the couch, trying to keep his hips from bucking up towards Drew.

Drew licked a long, wet stripe up the underside of Andy's cock, and it felt so good that Andy let out a strangled, almost outraged noise. Drew's eyes flicked up to him, and he had a wicked little smile on his face.

"Need something?" Drew asked, as though he were passing Andy the salt at dinner.

"No," Andy said hoarsely. "I'm—I'm doing just fine. No problems here."

"Because I can stop if—"

"No—" Andy said, louder than he meant to, and Drew laughed. Andy glared at him. "Now you're just torturing me."

"Maybe a little bit," Drew admitted with a grin.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were such a sadist—oh—"

Andy's words were cut off when Drew swallowed down around the length of his cock, taking it deep into his throat until his nose pressed against the thatch of hair at the base.

He glanced up at Andy as if to say, You were saying?

"Okay," Andy gasped. "I take it back. You're not a—oh fuck—"

Drew seemed set on making a point to Andy about his blowjob prowess, because he began working Andy's cock so well that Andy's eyes closed and his head fell back. Andy tangled one of his hands in Drew's hair—a little longer now than it had been in college, and the perfect length, Andy discovered, for grabbing amidst the throes of passion.

Drew snaked his free hand up the inside of Andy's thighs, and Andy parted his legs a little further, allowing better access to himself as Drew expertly rolled his balls in one hand. Occasionally, he could feel the scrape of Drew's stubble against his skin, and the sensation was foreign and exciting. Andy was only barely aware of the little noises—helpless moans and gasps—he was making and he suddenly realized he was perilously close to finishing.

Almost frantically, he pushed Drew away, and Drew immediately sat back on his heels, looking glassy-eyed and slightly shocked. He wiped the saliva from his chin with the back of his hand.

"Are you okay?" Drew asked, his brow knit with concern.

"Yeah—" Andy gasped, trying to catch his breath. "More than okay—I was—I was really close to—"

A slow grin spread across Drew's face.

"I mean, that wouldn't be the worst thing…" he said.

"True," Andy said, leaning forward to pull Drew's face to his. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Andy's heart was hammering as he kissed Drew again, and he stood up, pulling Drew along with them. They stripped off the last of their clothing as Andy hauled them both into his bedroom. Andy wasn't even sure what he wanted to do with Drew—he had a vague knowledge of the kind of things two guys could get up to together, but he also was thoroughly intimidated.

The overhead light was off, and the room was lit only by the dim glow of the streetlight outside. Andy fell back onto the bed, pulling Drew down on top of him. Their bodies moved together as they kissed, grinding against one another, and Drew tangled his fingers in Andy's hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck.

Andy shivered with pleasure as Drew nipped and sucked at the skin of his neck. He was overwhelmed by the role reversal—in college, Andy had been the more experienced one, the person who'd guided Drew through their various exploits. Although Andy had never been with a guy before, he'd been with plenty of other people, and the mechanics of a cock hadn't been difficult to work out. He did, after all, have one of his own.

But now, Drew was taking charge, and it was clear that in the years since they'd seen each other, Drew had made up for his self-imposed celibacy all through college. He and Drew hadn't done much beyond handjobs and one sloppy, furtive blowjob, but now he wanted more. Now he could want more, unlike in college, when he and Drew had both been pretending they didn't care for one another.

Was it rude, Andy wondered, to ask if he could fuck Drew? Was there some sort of gay etiquette he'd missed out on? Was that something Drew was even interested in?

"Hey," Drew said softly, and Andy's eyes flew open to see Drew, propped up on his arms over Andy, looking down with concern. "You're in your head again. What's up?"

Andy couldn't help laughing, and he turned away, his face heating up. Drew had always been able to read him so well.

"What?" Drew asked, cupping Andy's face and pulling it back towards him. "We can stop—"

"No—" Andy said. "It's not that. It's—it's just that—I was—I was thinking—about, like—if we—you know, were to—you know—"

Andy made a vague hand gesture and Drew burst out laughing.

"I… have no idea what you mean, actually," Drew said.

"Fucking," Andy said, practically spitting the word out. He was mortified—he'd always managed to be so smooth when it came to hooking up with women, but now he couldn't even manage a full sentence without blushing. "If we—did that."

"Oh," Drew said. Something hungry and almost primal flashed in his eyes, then was gone. "Is that… is that what you want?"

"Maybe—" Andy stammered. "I mean, I dunno if you, like, even—we don't have to if—I was just thinking that—"

Drew kissed Andy gently, which was a very effective way to shut him up. When he pulled back, his expression was soft.

"I'd really, really like that," he said.

Andy swallowed hard.

"Who, um—who does what?" Andy asked. He frowned as Drew bit back a smile. "Hey, stop laughing at me."

"I'm sorry," Drew said, who clearly was not apologetic at all. "You're just being so awkward. Ask for what you want, Andy. It's fine."

"Well, okay, then," Andy said. "If you don't mind, I was thinking… it might be nice to… have sex, Andrew."

Drew snorted.

"I think that sounds nice as well, Andrew," he said, and Andy made a face.

"Man, is it weird if we have the same name? Feels weird," he said.

Drew rolled his eyes.

"Never stopped you in college," Drew said. "Besides, it happens a lot more than you'd think."

"True," Andy said. "But—"

"Andy," Drew said, cutting him off. "Ask for what you want."

He said it more firmly this time, as he reached between them to palm Andy's cock, and Andy shuddered at the friction.

"Didn't I already do that?" Andy asked, the words coming out hoarsely.

"Kind of," Drew said, running his thumb over the head of Andy's cock, through the slick of precum there. "But be more specific."

Andy closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

"Can—can I fuck you?" he asked. "I mean—as long as—if that's something you—"

"Andy," Drew said, kissing him again, his voice equal parts exasperation and affection. "I'd really like for you to fuck me. So stop worrying."

Andy's cock twitched in Drew's hand.

"I wasn't worrying," Andy protested, and Drew rolled his eyes.

"Oh, shut up and tell me where you keep the condoms. And lube. We're definitely going to need lube."

"I know that," Andy said a little crossly, rolling out from under Drew to fish their supplies out of his bedside table. He tossed a condom at Drew, and Drew laughed as it hit him in the chest and bounced onto the bed.

"You been fucking a lot of guys?" Drew asked, and though his voice was casual, Andy saw something unreadable flit across his face.

"Nah," Andy said. "There was only ever you."

The words seemed to land between them with a thud, and Andy glanced away, feeling exposed yet again. He'd meant to say it lightly, a way of warning that Drew might not be about to have the best sex of his life, but instead it had come out as a confession.

I haven't stopped thinking about you. You're different than anyone else I've ever been with.

"So, um, what now?" Andy asked. The moment was gone, thankfully.

"Have you ever tried anal before?" Drew said, his tone almost comically matter-of-fact. "With a girl?"

"Er, no—"

Drew shrugged.

"No worries," he said as he pushed Andy back so he was laying down on the bed again. Andy watched as Drew straddled his hips. Drew slicked his fingers with lube, glancing down at Andy as if Drew were demonstrating how to repair a car engine rather than preparing to fuck.

"There's a bit more prep involved," Drew said, and Andy inhaled sharply as Drew reached behind himself. Drew's breath caught, and a moment later, Drew's eyes fluttered shut as he slid his finger inside himself.

"Fuck," Andy whispered, his hand automatically flying to his own cock. He would never have guessed watching Drew prep himself would be so fucking hot. "Does it—does it feel good?"

"It feels fucking great," Drew said, his voice rougher now. "It'll feel even better when it's your cock."

Andy swallowed hard as he stroked himself, watching Drew slowly work himself open. He couldn't actually see what Drew was doing, but it was enough to watch Drew's expressions, to see his brow knit, his hips begin to roll slightly as he fucked himself with his fingers.

Andy was struck, again, by how different Drew was now. He was still all of his best parts—his calmness, his steadiness, his straight-forwardness. But he was more, too—confident, composed, and more relaxed now, as if he finally trusted that the world might work out in his favor. Andy loved seeing Drew like that. He'd always had the sneaking suspicion that Drew was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, biding his time before the next great catastrophe.

But maybe Drew was learning to trust that he did deserve good things.

Drew let out a soft little moan, and his eyes flew open.

"Put the condom on," he said. His voice was rushed and raw with need, as if he could barely stand to wait any longer, and Andy did as he was told, rolling the condom onto his aching cock and slicking it with lube.

As soon as it was on, Drew pushed Andy's hands out of the way, and Andy watched as Drew straddled his hips and lined himself up. Andy brought his hands to rest on Drew's thighs, running his hands over the wiry hair of his legs.

But his awareness of everything beyond his cock was gone as Drew slowly slid down, taking the entire length of Andy's cock inside him until their hips met.

Andy groaned out something incoherent and profane. He opened his eyes—he hadn't even realized he'd shut them—and looked at Drew on top of him.

Drew looked gorgeous. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his cheeks were uncharacteristically flushed. Andy was struck again by how strangely graceful Drew was, despite being so tall.

Drew's eyes were screwed shut and he was biting his lip.

"Are you okay?" Andy breathed, and Drew nodded quickly.

"Yeah," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "I just—I just went a little quicker than I normally would. Just give me a second."

Andy brought his hands to Drew's hips, stroking his thumbs over the ridge of bone, and a moment later, Drew exhaled and Andy could feel Drew's body relaxing around him.

"Fuck, Drew—" Andy gasped. "That's really fucking good."

Drew looked pleased with himself.

And, as Drew began to slowly roll his hips, Andy realized there was a definite benefit to having Drew on top, because he could let Drew control the pace and the rhythm. Andy let his head fall back on the pillow, staring up at Drew. He knew he was practically slack-jawed, and he didn't even care.

Drew smiled and leaned forward to kiss Andy as he worked his hips on Andy's cock. The tight, slick heat of his ass felt incredible, and it seemed like Drew was enjoying himself, too—he rested his hands on Andy's chest, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, as he rode Andy, picking up speed and urgency.

"Fuck—" Andy said, because that seemed to be the only thing he could say.

"Good?" Drew whispered.

"Fucking—fucking phenomenal," Andy said, and Drew smiled.

"Your cock is—it's so fucking good," Drew said. He said it quietly, less like he was reassuring Andy and more like he couldn't quite believe the sensations he was feeling.

Which was about where Andy was at, too.

Andy shifted, bending his knees and planting his feet flat against the mattress so he could start to roll his hips up to meet Drew. He brought his hands to Drew's hips to steady him as Drew straightened up, leaning back slightly.

The angle change must have worked for him, because Drew cried out loudly and began to move faster, bracing himself by grabbing Andy's thigh. Andy barely even noticed the sharp crescents of pain where Drew's fingernails were digging into his skin.

"Andy, Andy—" Drew moaned, saying Andy's name over and over, his voice getting higher and needier. He brought his hand to his cock and began stroking himself, fast and rhythmic, and he seemed lost in his pleasure.

He looked gorgeous like that, and Andy felt a strange sense of pride that Drew was finding such ecstasy with his body.

"I'm—I'm close—" Drew said.

"Yeah," Andy urged. "I'm—me too—"

He couldn't bother to say anything else, because Drew was coming, and Andy felt hot jets of cum land on his chest. Drew's ass was clenching tight around Andy, pushing him closer and closer to the edge—

And when Andy came, he couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard. He was just barely aware of the fact that he was gripping Drew's hips tightly as he thrust up into him, and he flung his head back on the pillow, crying out loudly.

He sank back onto the mattress, going limp as the last tremor of his orgasm faded away. Grinning weakly, Drew slid off of Andy's cock and collapsed down to the side of Andy, letting out a heavy, deeply satisfied sigh.

Jelly-legged, Andy got up just long enough to dispose of the condom and grab a washcloth, and he fell back into bed with Drew, wiping himself off and passing it to Drew.

"Fuck," Andy said after a moment, exhaling loudly.

"Yeah," Drew said with a smile. "That was—that was really fucking good."

They lay there for a moment, limbs tangled together, as the sweat on their skin cooled and the exhaustion set in. Andy had no idea what time it was, but it had been past midnight when they left the reception.

"Here," Andy said, repositioning them so they were under the comforter. Drew held out his arm and pulled Andy into his chest, and Andy easily molded to fit against him. And, for a moment, it felt as though they were back in their cinderblock room at Bellamy, crushed together in a twin bed in the dark.

Drew stroked Andy's hair.

"I'm… I had a really nice time tonight," Drew said.

"Me too," Andy said. They were quiet for a while longer. A thought struck him. "How long—how long are you in Linfield for?"

As soon as he asked the question, a dozen fully-formed scenes sprung to mind: stopping by Drew's hotel to grab his things so he could stay with Andy the rest of his trip. Going to The Cricket, their old haunt from college, and laughing at how old and out of place they felt now. Walking around Linfield, kissing on quiet street corners, hurrying back to Andy's place to fuck for the zillionth time.

"Oh. Er, tomorrow," Drew said. He shifted, checking the time. "Well, I guess today, now."

Andy tried to hide his disappointment.

"Oh, wow," he said, as neutrally as he could. "Quick trip."

"Yeah," Drew said, and Andy was pleased to hear a tinge of regret in his voice. "Flight's at ten. I wanted to go for longer but I have a trip for work and I'm catching a red-eye for it."

"I… wish you didn't have to go so soon."

"Me, too," Drew said, pressing a kiss to Andy's head. His voice was soft and sad.

"Where are you going?" Andy asked, trying to distract himself from the fact that their time together had an expiration date.

"Just London," Drew said, and Andy snorted.

"Just London?" he said, and Drew laughed.

"Okay, point taken," Drew said. "But it's not like I get to do anything fun. It'll just be the inside of airports and conference centers the whole time."

"Drew, what do you even do?" Andy asked, but he immediately regretted it, because Drew launched into a long speech about servers and encryption and other technobabble that made Andy's eyes cross.

"You're not actually listening, are you?" Drew said after a moment with a laugh.

"Er, no," Andy admitted. "But—hey, I tried. I mean, I could whip out all my corporate jargon and make your head spin."

"Oooh, talk dirty to me, baby," Drew said.

"Synergistic backwards overflow—crowd-sourced company-wide empowerment of microtrends—"

Andy started laughing as Drew tickled him.

"Enough," Drew said. "I think you're making that up."

"Ok, yeah, that didn't really mean anything," Andy said, trying in vain to bat Drew's hands away. "Mercy! I give up!"

They settled back in, Drew's arm around Andy once more, and were quiet again. Andy brought his hand to Drew's chest, tracing abstract shapes through the light dusting of hair there. And suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt an overwhelming sadness descend upon him, like a heavy rain falling.

He really did feel like he was back in college—the old, familiar pain of wanting Drew and knowing it wouldn't work.

"You okay?" Drew said, stroking Andy's hair, and Andy marveled at how easily Drew seemed to read his ever-changing moods.

"Yeah," he said, then stopped himself. He wasn't okay. "I—I just was thinking that… this has been really nice. And it sucks that you have to leave so soon."

Drew was quiet for a moment, and for a brief second, Andy regretted saying anything, felt stupid and clingy—

"It really has been nice," Drew said. "Actually, no, it's been fucking amazing. And I—"

He stopped suddenly.

"What?" Andy prompted.

"Nothing," Drew said, shaking his head. When he continued, Andy could tell it wasn't what he'd been originally planning on saying. "I know… I know I'm not the best with keeping in touch. I’m fucking terrible with responding to texts and emails that aren't work-related, and, left to my own devices, I probably would never leave my house or socialize with anyone. But—but I've really missed you. And I'd… like to be better about catching up with you."

Andy didn't bother to hide the broad smile that stole across his face.

"I'd like that too," he said, twisting around so he could see Drew's face. Drew looked away, almost shyly.

They talked a little while longer about nothing of particular importance. Andy found himself yawning, and it became hard to keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to fall asleep. When he woke up, he knew, Drew would leave. But, in the early hours of the morning, when things felt a little magical, Andy held onto the idea that, maybe, if he could just stay awake, time would suspend itself, and he could keep this moment preserved—him and Drew, wrapped up in on another.

But soon he was asleep, nestled against Drew, drooling lightly on him.