beggars, choosers (pt.2)
Garrett rarely got like this. But Andrew had been working so much lately. He'd been with Shane more nights than he'd been with Garrett and Garrett didn't appreciate that. He knew Garrett would be getting antsy, anxious about Andrew being away so long.
What he didn't expect, was for Garrett to be waiting with their toy box when he walked in the front door of the tiny house.
"You're late." It was sure. Business-like. Formal.
It was dry and mirrored Andrew's mouth.
"Shane needed me to finish editing a clip before I left."
Garrett tapped the box impatiently. He rarely got like this. Strict. Imposing. Dominate.
"You're an hour and forty-five minutes late, Andrew. I was worried sick." A hint of kindness, but the firmness undercut the soft tone.
Andrew gulped.
The carpet rustled as Garrett stood up and walked closer to Andrew. A firm hand rested on Andrew's shoulder and he didn't have to look over at Garrett to know that he was pushing Andrew to his knees.
Andrew welcomed it, the invitation to let Garrett take care of him -- to make sure he wasn't overwhelmed.
To give them time to be together.
Garrett's hand passed through Andrew's curls; the knots caught his fingers and Garrett tsked.
The fingers in his hair left but a brush appeared in their place. Bristles stroked through Andrew's hair, catching the knots and gently tugging through them until Garrett could run his fingers through the curls easily.
"Gare," Andrew preened, already slipping into a Garrett induced trance.
Garrett's strokes stopped. Andrew stiffened but opened his mouth and closed his eyes, waiting patiently for Garrett's cock.
"Get in bed, Andrew. We'll do this in the morning."
That wasn't at all what he was expecting.
"What--"
"Andrew."
A gulp, but he conceded. Garrett helped Andrew up and guided him toward their room.
Their fingers linked together and their arms touched softly. They were silent for a long while.
"Why didn't we--"
"Not tonight, Andrew." There was no malice, and Garrett's voice was gentle. He stroked the pad of his thumb over the back of Andrew's hand.
The movement and warmth lulled Andrew to sleep, thankful he didn't have to sleep alone in the big guest bedroom in Shane and Ryland's house.
***
Andrew woke up to steam wafting into the bedroom, bathroom door open. The mirror was fogged over and his throat was sore.
He needed water.
But first, he needed Garrett.
He pattered into the bathroom and dropped his basketball shorts and his t-shirt near the hamper. He swished open the shower curtain just enough that he could climb in behind Garrett.
"Good morning," Garrett murmured, the sound of the shower splattering on the bottom of the tub nearly drowning out his voice. He turned and wrapped his arms around Andrew's waist, pressing gentle kisses into Andrew's neck.
"Morning," Andrew replied simply.
"Hmm." Garrett squeezed a bit of shampoo out and began working it into Andrew's hair. He scratched lightly at Andrew's scalp and left his nails there for a moment longer than he normally would.
Andrew preened under the touch and pushed his ass into Garrett's crotch.
More kisses as the water rushed down Andrew's back. Garrett cupped his hands and poured water over Andrew's head, washing him clean of any residual shampoo.
"I have, mhmm, a proposition for you, Drew," Garrett murmured into the curve of Andrew's neck.
Andrew gasped and his head rested on Garrett's shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"A plug? All day? Can you do it?" Kisses. Licks. A hickey on the back of Andrew's neck. (That'd be a bitch to cover.)
"Y-Yeah, yeah, Gare," Andrew whined. Garrett circled his hips against Andrew's ass and palmed at Andrew's cock hardening against his thigh.
"Can you come for me, baby?" Garrett half instructed, half asked.
Andrew nodded quickly, free hand bracing himself against the wall of their tiny shower.
Garrett twisted his hand quickly and bit the dip of Andrew's neck and watched as ropes of white cum painted their shower wall.
He came not long after, grunting into Andrew's neck. He panted and waited for a moment before he pulled away and washed their bodies off.
Spent and pliant, Andrew let Garrett lead him out and dry him off, splaying him out on the bed to wait while Garrett got dressed.
A moment later and Andrew felt the bed dip down at the foot, heard Garrett rustling in their box, and shivered when the lid of the lube clicked open. Warm, slick fingers pressed at his hole and he relaxed into Garrett's touch. Another finger, then three, until he was writhing with pleasure.
"Gare, please," he urged. He pushed down on the fingers but Garrett stopped him.
"No."
"Garrett." Long syllables, drawn out vowels. It was nasal.
"Andrew, no. Not until tonight." And that caught Andrew's breath. Waiting all day, with a plug up his ass that would no doubt move anytime he did -- he couldn't wait to cum, there was no way.
"Okay." He surprised himself, truthfully, when the word came out of his mouth.
Garrett kissed his stomach and Andrew knew he'd answered correctly.
***
Andrew shifted in the passenger side of the Prius and glanced over at Garrett's hand on his thigh.
"Gare?"
"Hmm?"
"Nothing." Andrew shook his head, lifting his ass up slightly to keep the plug from pushing against his prostate. He flinched and winced when Garrett hit a speed bump particularly quickly.
They pulled up to Ryland and Shane's and Garrett squeezed Andrew's knee, thumb rubbing gently on the inside of Andrew's thigh. He sucked a breath in and closed his eyes tightly, moving his hand to adjust himself in his pants.
"Hey, guys!" Morgan called from the trampoline, jumping and nearly falling over. Shane appeared on the golf cart, camera in hand. Andrew took it happily.
***
Garrett hadn't planned to use the remote, but Andrew sitting with his ass bared on the side talking comfortably to Ryland was too tempting. So he pressed the first level.
Andrew squeaked but covered it with a laugh, and Garrett smiled. He slid the remote into his jacket pocket and walked over to Andrew, kissing his hair.
"Wanna grab some lunch?"
Andrew glanced up with a red face. "Y-yeah," he stuttered, jumping up quickly from his place on the lounge chair. Garrett led him into the kitchen and stroked his fingers over the base of the plug, tapping it twice and admiring the way Andrew gasped for breath.
"What the fuck was that, Garrett?" He whimpered, pointing an accusing finger into Garrett's chest.
"The plug," Garrett replied with a smirk.
"That was not just the plug, Gare."
"You're right. It wasn't just the plug. It was the vibrating one. See?" A second, harder pulse and Andrew nearly collapsed against the kitchen counter.
"Garrett," he hissed out, fingers gripped tightly onto the marble surface.
Garrett kissed the back of his neck, arm wrapped around his waist to steady Andrew.
"Does it feel good? What if I just left you like this, for someone else to find? A vibrator in your ass, gripping the counter like it's your lifeline?" A kiss, a nip to the side of Andrew's neck. Garrett breathed hotly against the mark.
"Gare," Andrew gasped.
"Shh, wouldn't want the others to hear you. Wouldn't want them to find out how needy you are. How much you want a cock in your ass."
A moan croaked out from Andrew and suddenly he was void from every touch and stimulation.
"Better get back to filming, babe," Garrett said from across the room, already walking out into the living room.
***
Andrew winced when he felt the vibrations start again, softly and gradually building. He tried his best to keep the camera steady but the vibrator was shaking his entire body and the way Garrett was looking at him made his knees buckle. He was thankful when Shane sat down on the couch and he could sit on the table across from him; until he realized the others could hear the vibe on the glass.
"Whose phone?" Ryland questioned, glancing around.
"Mine!" Garrett half-screamed, fumbling with the remote.
Andrew shifted and nearly fell off the table when the vibe turned off. He shot a look toward Garrett and turned back to Shane.
The tip of the plug was settled directly on his prostate and he could feel himself getting hard again. He crossed his legs in an attempt to cover it.
"Andrew, are you okay?" The voice was quiet from the side of him and he glanced over to see a concerned Ryland raising an eyebrow. He only nodded and focused the camera back on Shane.
"Andrew, why don't you take a break. Get some air? You look crazy pale," Shane responded. Andrew nodded again and handed the camera over to Morgan.
He couldn't get out fast enough, breath already hitching as he imagined escaping to the bathroom to take the plug out and jerk off into the toilet.
He sobbed when Garrett grabbed his arm.
"Please, Garrett, please let me cum," he whimpered into his boyfriend's chest against the locked bathroom door. He gripped Garrett's shirt and whined, trying his best to fuck down onto the plug in his ass.
"Ah, shh, Andrew, hey, look at me. What's your color?" Garrett touched either side of Andrew's face and his thumbs rubbed calming circles.
"Gr-green," he whimpered, clutching tightly to Garrett's shirt.
"What do you need from me, Drew?" Garrett tugged at Andrew's hair and slotted a knee between his boyfriend's legs.
"To cum, please, Gare. I need you to fuck me." Andrew's voice was weak and small, pleading with Garrett to listen to him. He didn't know what he was asking for anymore, he didn't care if Garrett sat him on the counter and sucked him off in the bathroom Andrew just needed something on his dick.
"Not yet." Andrew's eyes watered and he wanted to scream with frustration. "Can you last until we finish filming?"
It was a risky proposition; Shane could have 10 minutes or 10 hours left of footage to get, but Andrew found himself nodding anyway.
"Good," Garrett whispered, stroking Andrew's face in addition to the praise. "Make sure you don't look like you're about to cum when you walk out this door," Garrett instructed and Andrew wanted to punch him.
***
By the time they finished filming Andrew was a wreck and he'd nearly cum four times and he was so hard he could feel every thread in his pants with his dick and all Garrett had to do to make him cum was touch him or whisper in his ear but he didn't.
Andrew cried out in pleasure the whole way home, gripping the sides of the seat for leverage as Garrett played lazily with the remote. Maximum, medium, maximum, off. Patterns that Andrew couldn't quite parse out but he knew they were there. And Garrett toyed with him, sending shock waves through his body so intense he was afraid he'd stop breathing; matched them with short bursts of reminders of what was to come, long stretches where Andrew was nearly cumming in his pants but Garrett magically knew where his limit was and stopped right before it.
Garrett carried him inside and put him on the bed. He waited until Andrew was begging, scratching at his thighs to keep himself from cumming but also begging himself not to cum yet because he wanted so desperately to feel Garrett inside him.
"You did so good, Drew, so good for me. Took it so well, love," Â Garrett whispered tenderly, each word punctuated with the removal of a different article of clothing.
Andrew was open and pliant and ready, leaking lube from his hole where Garrett had inserted another two fingers next to the plug. Andrew's mouth gaped open, a cry stopped at the tip of his tongue, paused for when he regained a bit of his breath.
Garrett rested his head on Andrew's stomach and immediately Andrew's fingers found their way into his hair.
He tugged and pulled and tried to push Garrett down to his cock but Garrett wouldn't budge, just lazily thrust his fingers into Andrew's ass.
Andrew thought about it, and this wasn't such a bad way to go — happy and loved and content with his ass full. There were worse ways. And if Garrett kept finger fucking him like that, he wouldn't last much longer (on earth or otherwise).
His throat was strained but he let out a hoarse wail, loud and scratchy, back arching as he did it, praying this was the moment he'd cum but he was wrong. He collapsed back into the bed, bare back hitting Garrett's arm under him.
His naked cock twitched against his stomach and he wanted so badly to touch himself, wanted Garrett to breath on his dick, that would be enough, he told himself.
He thrust again, this time aiming for Garrett's mouth and received a swift slap to his thigh.
"Andrew."
His name falling from Garrett's lips was more than enough to make him heave one final cry and tug on Garrett's hair before he gave up fighting and lay down, still and complacent while Garrett pressed his fingers against his prostate again and again.
Garrett pulled his fingers out. Andrew sobbed in relief, eyes letting out drops of tears as his fingers scratched down Garrett's back. Finally, Garrett would let him cum.
Garrett switched the vibe on high and held it against Andrew's prostate. Andrew cried out, yelled Garrett's name, and then fell silent, writhing under the effects of the vibe. He stilled, white cum shooting over his stomach and his dick, thick white strands.
"Fuck, Drew, fuck, fuck," Garrett murmured, still pressing the vibe against Andrew's prostate, amazed. He was still so hard despite the cum all over his chest and he looked up at Garrett with dewy eyes and a wet forehead, begging for something.
"Garrett, please, please, fuck me, please let me cum, please," Andrew begged. He was desperate, needy, and Garrett couldn't argue with him.
He pulled the vibrator out and slid in, not letting Andrew adjust to his dick. He thrust in, grabbing Andrew's hips and bringing him to meet Garrett's thrusts. Andrew gripped the headboard and groaned Garrett's named before he fell silent, soft whimpers the only thing Garrett could hear.
"Are you close?" He panted out, speeding up his thrusts to get Andrew closer.
He nodded frantically and slapped the bed, sheets knitted tightly in his fists.
"Fuck, fuck, Garrett make me cum, please," he croaked, letting out a wail when Garrett inserted the vibe and turned it on, calling out Andrew's name as they came together.
He thrust through his own orgasm, fucking Andrew through his as he slid the vibe in and out. Andrew shuddered and tried to curl in on himself, thin, stringy ropes of cum onto his chest and thighs, whining high pitched and long and crying out Garrett's name like it was the only thing that could save him.
Garrett pulled out of him, placing the plug on the bedside table while he fumbled for a shirt to wipe them off with. Andrew trembled, chilled to the core from the orgasms and the milking and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Garrett pressed kisses to his forehead and his lips while he cleaned him, being careful to avoid his dick.
"So good, Drew, fuck, that was so good. You took it so well," the praise came always; Andrew got off on it as much as he did Garrett's dick.
A gentle touch against his face was all it took for Andrew to drift off, cuddled into Garrett's pillow.
But Garrett didn't mind, because at least Andrew was next to him.
