Who: Peter Vincent and Andrew Wells What: Things are said and done. :D Where: The complex When: Sunday Night, 9-30-12 Warnings: Yoda’s name is taken in vain. Peter drops f-bombs a lot (but what else is new?) and massive boyflirting. :D Status: Closed/Complete (and epically long!)
The TV was still on, casting coloured lights against the walls and chattering on quietly, but it was just background noise in the quiet flat. They actually had been watching earlier, but by now whatever crap program they’d had on was long forgotten. Peter couldn’t actually recall which of them had started it, but he was going to pin the blame on Andrew for this one. One of them had poked at the other, and the other had poked back, and everything had devolved from there into a ticklefight to rival the one they’d had the last time they’d both gotten drunk at Peter’s place. After they ended up tumbling off the couch and Peter nearly bashed his head into the coffee table, they finally paused for breath, laying tangled together on the floor.
Peter felt warm and a little buzzed, but he wasn’t quite on the way to being drunk yet. He didn’t actually mind all that much; this was the closest to content he had felt in ages. He was truly tired of thinking about everything. He’d been doing so well here the first couple months, despite the occasional bouts of insanity. Then the Seal had decided to make it personal and brought Jerry through. All the sharp ups and downs that had happened since then had been tearing at Peter’s patched together sanity, wearing him down and making it so hard to hold himself together. By this point, though, Peter was tired of feeling tired at all. He wanted to be calm again, to think clearly. Andrew was good at helping that without ever even realizing it. Simply his awkward nature and the way he talked was soothing, and his shy smiles made Peter feel more grounded. If a person like Andrew, who had so much weighing on his mind and memory, could still find it in himself to smile, then maybe things really could be alright.
He sighed. No wonder Lexi and the others kept thinking there was something more there. Peter wished he could be so sure. Eventually, he and Andrew would have to talk about this, and Peter still didn’t know if he would have an answer. Out of all the people he’d been involved with over the years - people who had loved him, or he thought he’d loved, friends and lovers, regrets and fond memories alike - he had never found a single person who made him want to be with them alone. Someone who made him want to try to be that better man, the one that he knew he would be shit at being, but they would be so worth it he would have to at least try. And then Lexi had said those words the other day, and it became one more thing spinning through his head, one more thought all tangled in with his worries about Jerry, about the first close friends he lost to the Seal, about Charley and Amy and Priestly, about having his mother returned to him and promptly torn away once more... and Peter couldn’t handle it all. It was too much, and he’d nearly shut down. He might have, if it hadn’t been for Andrew, and there everything came full circle once more.
Speaking of Andrew, he seemed a bit more intoxicated than Peter was despite having both drunk less and diluted his drink with Capri Sun. Then again, he wasn’t in the habit of drinking often the way Peter was. Peter shifted a bit so he could look his friend in the face. A mischievous smile slid slowly across his face, and he very pointedly reached over and gave Andrew another poke in the stomach.
Being someone that rarely ever drinks is not something that helps one build much of an alcohol tolerance, therefore two drinks in Andrew was already feeling a pretty good buzz. Buzz was the right word, right? Drinking terms were not really Andrew's forte.
But, that was neither here nor there. Andrew was just as unsure about who started the poking/tickling battle as anyone, but he would have pointed the finger at Peter had anyone asked. Not that anyone would, as they were the only ones around, but that was hardly unusual these days. It seemed that Andrew was spending more of his free time with Peter than without him in recent weeks. He was aware that people were talking about them - they seemed to be doing it all the time lately so it was kinda hard to be unaware - and he tried not to think about any of the things that people were saying, but he couldn't exactly help it at times. Yeah, Peter had somehow become the best friend he'd had in a long time, and okay, he might not have said so to anyone, but Peter did mean a bit more to him than just a friend.
Andrew would have been able to just brush that part off and ignore it as he had always done, but then his friends came around and started opening their mouths and insisting that it wasn't just a one-way crush... thing. He still wasn't sure he believed what they were saying, but he had to admit that, okay, maybe some of it did add up. At the same time though, he still had his hesitations, most of which revolved around the fact that he was the biggest nerd he knew.
There was a problem with his logic though. He had been drinking, and even Andrew was aware that drinking tended to put a damper on logic, rationality, and sometimes impulse control, and all of those things were severely lessened in him. So when he saw that mischievous grin spread across Peter's face (it was possible that was one of his favorite grins, though there were possibly others) and felt Peter poke him again, he did what no one would expect. He hadn't even expected to do it himself.
Andrew quickly leaned over and pressed his lips against Peter's.
Before, Peter couldn’t stop himself thinking... but he wasn’t thinking at all now. How could he, when Andrew - Andrew, of all people - was kissing him? After all the times that Peter had flirted, or even just told him how beautiful he was, only to have him blush and stammer and turn away, or try to change the subject, or even get mad once or twice…because for whatever ungodly reason, he would not comprehend that Peter found him attractive. It would be completely endearing if it wasn’t so very often frustrating as hell. It had never even occurred to Peter that Andrew might make a move.
But this… oh, this. Andrew’s lips were gentle on his, his body warm and close and Peter froze, completely and entirely, his thoughts wiped blank by the shock of contact. By Andrew, kissing him. Their first kiss. Andrew. Kissing him. The unexpectedness of it all was so overwhelming it took him a moment to even start to kiss back.
There was a tiny part of Andrew's brain that just knew he did the wrong thing in the time that Peter didn't respond. But then suddenly Peter seemed to be kissing him back. Andrew Wells was being kissed back.
But a problem came when that tiny part of his brain started speaking again, causing realization to hit. He was kissing Peter. He was doing something that would probably go and wreck his entire friendship. Eyes going wide, he quickly pulled back. "Oh, Yoda," he said as he scrambled onto his feet. "I need to go... uh... be not here." And with that he turned and started quickly towards the door, trying his hardest not to panic as he made his way across the living room.
Just as what was happening finally started to sink in, the feeling of Andrew’s mouth on his disappeared. Slightly dazed, Peter blinked open eyes that he didn’t even remember closing to see Andrew, wide-eyed and pale, clambering away from him. Peter’s brain was still trying to catch up, the slight fuzz of alcohol making it even slower going. Andrew had kissed him. And then promptly pulled away just as Peter was starting to kiss back.
By the time Andrew’s words registered, he was already halfway to the door. Running away. Again. But there had been kissing. And Andrew had been the one to start it. And he was leaving. There was something very wrong with that part of this chain of events. Not the kissing. While certainly unexpected, it was a welcome turn. But then the kissing had stopped. Why had the kissing stopped, and just where did Andrew think he was going?
“Andrew!” Peter jerked into motion, his arms and legs still clumsy from shock as he pushed himself up. He moved to follow Andrew, practically tripping over a box on the floor in his hurry. Andrew had kissed him, and Peter was NOT going to let him run away and hide this time.
Andrew had no idea what to think of himself as he put his hand on the door knob, twisted, and pulled it open. He wasn't the sort of person to do that. He didn't just randomly kiss people. In fact, he'd never kissed anyone before, just as he'd never been kissed by anyone. That had been his first kiss. With anyone. The one that was supposed to matter the most and here Andrew felt he'd thrown it away and screwed up terribly with it.
He heard Peter call his name, but that didn't matter just then. All that mattered to Andrew was getting out of Peter's apartment and getting to his own, where he could lock the door behind him and hiding from Peter for as long as he could. Yes, he would also be hiding from others for a good bit of time, too, but that was secondary. First and foremost, he needed away from Peter.
He was quickly out of Peter's apartment and into the hall, and from there it was only a couple of feet to his own apartment door, which he made short work of before stepping inside, slamming it closed, and turning the lock. It wasn't until he was inside that he really let himself take a breath, and it turned out to be ragged. Andrew closed his eyes and slumped back against the door, unsure of what, exactly, possessed him to screw things up so royally.
The mind-slowing shock had faded, replaced now by a shot of adrenaline and a wave of dismay. Peter still did not have any idea of what to say. He did not know how to explain the highly incriminating words he’d said in his sleep several nights ago. He had no fucking clue what to make of Lexi’s suggestion. If Andrew asked him what his intentions were, Peter still had no answers for him yet. But this meant something, in and of itself. If it had been anyone else, he would have been able to answer easily, with an amused laugh and a firm ‘no’. But this was Andrew, and he didn’t know why or how but things were different with him.
At the moment, none of those uncertainties or unanswered questions mattered. Andrew had made a move on him, and Peter had been so taken by surprise, he couldn’t react in time to keep Andrew from retreating. The important thing right now was keeping Andrew from running, because with something this huge? He would probably hide forever if Peter let him.
He chased after Andrew as quickly as he could, but he still was not fast enough. He barely made it through his own door in time to see Andrew’s slam shut, a cold, hard barrier between him and his friend. He didn’t even bother to close his own door behind himself as he leaped the short distance between their thresholds, bringing up a fist to knock sharply on the door. “Andrew? Andrew, come on, don’t run from me like this! Open up!” he pleaded. He tried the handle, but it wouldn‘t turn, locked tight against him. Peter growled a bit in frustration. “Why do you always fucking run from me?” His knuckles rapped against the door again, loud and frantic. “Andrew, open the door!”
Andrew jumped slightly when he heard the sharp knock at the door, but it didn't make him move away. And neither did hearing Peter telling him to open up. At the same time, it didn't make him open the door, either. Instead he was just glad he thought to lock it.
"Go home, Peter," Andrew said loud enough to be heard through the door. He meant it, too. Just then, Andrew wanted nothing more than for Peter to go home and leave him alone, possibly forever considering how much he'd just gone and humiliated himself. Okay, yes, there was something he would want more, and that would be for Peter to somehow forget the last five minutes entirely. For both of them to forget the last five minutes. But that was unlikely. "I'm sorry I screwed up. Just... go home."
After taking another breath, again deep and shaky, Andrew finally moved away from the door and promptly flopped down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he laid on his side and closed his eyes. There were certain things in Andrew's life that he was not prepared to handle, and he'd just shoved himself into one of those situations head first.
“No I will not fucking go home!” Peter snapped. He took a deep breath; he did not want to sound as angry as he just had. He was not mad at Andrew, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare him off even more. He tried the door handle again, his hand freezing on the knob when he heard Andrew’s next words. “What… you did not screw up!” he said, incredulous. How could Andrew think that he was the one who had just screwed up? “I am not leaving. Please open the door.”
He paused, resting his forehead against the door as he listened for a response. All was quiet on the other side of the door. “Andrew?” he tried again. When still no answer came, he heaved a sigh, fishing at his belt for his keys. After his stint in captivity back in June, he had made sure that he had a miniature lock pick set on him at all times, attached to his key ring. He opened up the little capsule, and pulled out the tiny tension wrench and selected a pick.
Kneeling in front of the door, he focused on the lock and set to work. As he slipped the pick into the keyhole, he raised his voice so that Andrew could hear him, wherever he was hiding in his tiny little flat. “Andrew, you really don’t have to hide from me. I’m not going to fucking bite you or anything.” Hopefully, Andrew wouldn’t hear him tinkering at the lock over the sound of his voice. Or if he did, he would assume Peter was simply rattling the door handle again. “You know, you pick up quite a few handy little skills working as a magician. Little tricks, sleight of hand, how to direct people’s attention to one area so you can work on another…” He felt the lock click open and smiled, pulling the picks back out and stuffing them into his pocket. Then he stood again. “I have to say though, the most useful, and my favorite one,” he opened the door, looking in at Andrew where he laid on the couch with a rather smug grin, “is lockpicking.” He came inside, shutting the door behind him.
There were a couple of moments where Andrew considered responding to Peter, but in the end he decided against it. He had already asked Peter to leave, then apologized and said that yeah, he knew he screwed up, then Peter went and ignored him. Okay, ignored wasn't the right word being as Peter responded, but he didn't listen. And he tried to say that Andrew was wrong or... something. He didn't really know how to comprehend that. Yes, Andrew was aware of the words in the literal sense, knew what the sentences meant, but in the more personal sense? He wasn't sure.
And then Peter was talking about being a magician. At first Andrew wasn't quite following, but when he heard a couple of clicks here and there between words - especially when Peter started talking about misdirection - he started to get worried. He sat up, eyes wide as he stared at the door and watched it swing open, then seeing Peter standing there with one of those smiles on his face.
"What are you doing?" The words were out of Andrew's mouth before he could stop them. "Why did you... Peter, just go home. Please." With that Andrew looked away, not wanting to face Peter, not wanting to talk about anything that just happened. Really, he just wanted to be alone to wallow for a while.
“What, you thought I was going to let a locked door stop me?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. When Andrew turned away, he couldn’t help the little flicker of frustration, but he managed to keep it out of his voice and off his face. Andrew was not used to this, he reminded himself. The way he responded to Peter, the things he said… he genuinely did not know how to react, and only made the need to be careful with what he said here even stronger.
Unfortunately, subtlety was not usually one of Peter’s strong points. Especially when he found himself faced with an opportunity like this. Had Andrew not kissed him, Peter would have been content to let things sit for a while, until he had at least sorted out his thoughts. This one little kiss, so light and brief yet the sensation was still lingering on Peter’s lips… this changed everything.
“I’m not letting you run from this.” He came closer to where Andrew sat, determined purpose in every step. “I’m fucking tired of watching you do that. Especially now,” he said. “You kissed me. You don’t fucking get to do that and then run away and not expect me to follow.”
Andrew saw Peter moving closer out of the corner of his eyes, and instinctively scooted further down the couch. It wasn't to give Peter more space if he chose to sit, it was to put just a little more space between himself and his friend. Normally Peter being nearby didn't bother him much any more, Peter tended to be such a touchy person (especially when drinking) that he'd grown used to it, not to mention the fact that he stopped spazzing about sleeping beside him and had toned it down to a flare of awkward. But with that one misstep back at Peter's apartment, those few seconds, it seemed like the balance had shifted and everything changed. Suddenly Peter being close was a very scary thought again.
"I don't want to talk about it," Andrew said, turning his eyes from where they were focused on the wall down to the floor by his feet. It was the most honest thing he could have possibly said at the moment. "I just want to forget about it and pretend it never happened." At least Andrew was aware that neither of those were viable options without the help of magic, and he wasn't in a rush to have someone magic up his brain.
Peter’s hand twitched with restrained movement. He had been going to reach out, place it on Andrew’s shoulder, and try to reassure him… but Andrew was still shifting away, still putting distance between them. His entire body language screamed “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” and Peter didn’t want to chase him further away, so he held back.
He had thought for the most part that this was just Andrew being Andrew, that he ran because he always ran, and that if he could just get him to talk to him, it would be alright and they could figure this out. But that second statement, that he wanted to pretend it never happened, that hurt in a way that totally took Peter by surprise, and for a moment he couldn’t find the words to respond.
Slowly, he took one last step closer, sinking down to sit on the end of the coffee table so that he was facing his friend, but still leaving some distance between them while he tried to find the right words.
“Bit late for that, now,” Peter finally said, his voice almost gentle except for the tiniest glimmer of hurt tinting it. “It happened and I know I’m not going to just fucking forget about it.” He paused a moment, tilting his head. “Was it really so bad as all this? I could give it another go, if you like. Do it right.”
At Peter's suggestion, Andrew shook his head slowly, still refusing to pry his eyes from the carpet. "No, Peter," he started, his voice quiet and just the slightest bit shaky from nerves.
It was hard for Andrew to bring himself to say much more than that, but he knew Peter wasn't going to be the sort to just leave it at that. Peter would want to talk. And he would get annoyed again if Andrew went back to just two word answers again, as he had done a few times since arriving in Lawrence. So, after biting his lip for a moment, Andrew finally decided to add, "I shouldn't have done it in the first place. I just... With some of the things my friends have said I thought, I don't know, maybe..." he wasn't sure how to get the words out to finish that statement so he decided to just skip ahead. "But I was wrong. And I messed everything up."
Fuck, Andrew wouldn’t even look at him. And he sounded so small and miserable that it tore at Peter’s heart, made him wonder if he should just leave it. He hated the thought that he made Andrew this upset. But then his attention was partly caught by the way Andrew chewed at his lip, the sight stirring the still fresh memory of how that kiss had felt. Andrew had been the one to kiss him. Between the two of them, Peter would have expected himself to be the one to make any starting moves. But it had been Andrew.
Before, he had tried to tell himself that Andrew wouldn’t ever really want him. He wasn’t the type, because he would want something bigger and meaningful. Peter wasn’t stupid or oblivious. He knew exactly what his own reputation was. But Andrew had taken that first step, and that meant something. So Peter held himself very still while he listened to Andrew’s tremulous explanation. He did not come any closer, but refused to put any more distance between them.
Peter, reluctant though he was to admit it, could definitely follow Andrew’s trail of logic. It had been Lexi’s words in particular that made him stop and think and worry, himself. But the others, Lois in particular, seemed to have made everyone else in Lawrence’s relationships their business. While he had goaded Steph as badly as anyone else before, now he could see now how stress-inducing and unhelpful it really was, how many doubts it raised and conflicting emotions it stirred.
“And why shouldn’t you have?” He asked quietly, when Andrew finished. Peter thought he knew the answer, but it was still a question that needed asking. “I don’t see as you’ve messed anything up any worse than I have. What do you think you were so wrong about?”
Andrew didn't want to be having this conversation. Not with his friends all the times they tried to bring it up, and especially not with Peter. But here he was, stuck in it, unable to get out of it due to his own lack of judgement for a few seconds.
And for some reason Peter was sitting there asking why Andrew thought he messed up. Personally, he thought the answer was pretty obvious. Andrew was a nerd, plain and simple. He wasn't the sort of guy that people were generally into. Especially good looking ones that could pretty much have their pick of anyone.
He paused for a moment before speaking again, trying to figure out what it was he wanted to say, and if he even could say it at that. Eventually Andrew decided that it would be best if he just said it, like ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid. "It was stupid for me to think you might... like me. Like that." Somehow, that was one of the most difficult things Andrew had ever made himself say.
Peter didn’t reply. He didn’t even think. He just moved. Shifted forward to close the distance between them. Reached out with both hands to cup Andrew’s face. Tilted his head back so those heart-wrenching eyes were no longer fixed on the floor. And then Peter leaned in and kissed him. He made sure it was slow and gentle, but not at all cautious. The time for hesitation had gone. And Peter found himself pouring every confused, slightly desperate emotion into this kiss, because if only one thing got cleared up tonight, he was going to at least make sure that Andrew understood how much he affected Peter. That Andrew meant something to him, and that it was a good something, even if Peter still didn’t know what the fuck it was.
Slowly, he pulled back, his hands still pressed against Andrew’s face, until he could meet Andrew’s eyes. “Doesn’t seem so stupid to me,” Peter murmured, his voice rasping and cracking just a bit.
Andrew was stunned. One second he had been sitting there, saying some of the hardest words of his life to his best friend, then before he knew it Peter was cupping his face and kissing him. Peter was kissing him. And this kiss was different. When he kissed Peter it was quick and hesitant. This one though, it seemed to linger and be filled with something more than his was, causing Andrew's eyes to slide closed as he fell into it.
It also caused him to understand the phrase "fell into the kiss."
Then the kiss was over before Andrew wanted it to be. He blinked his eyes open to look up at Peter. Surprise was obviously written across his somewhat red face. It was one of the few times in the life of Andrew Wells that he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say.
Any other person, and Peter would be smug and grinning right now, pleased at eliciting such a reaction from just a simple kiss. A small part of him was still feeling a bit proud. But the thing was, this was Andrew. Andrew, struck completely speechless, with his cheeks hot against Peter’s palms, and those eyes - god, those eyes - staring back at him in utter shock. And more than the self-satisfaction, Peter felt this overwhelming nervousness. How the fuck had this awkward little geek managed to do that?
Peter swallowed and tilted his head, his tongue darting out to take in that lingering taste from his lips. He tried not to let the nervousness show on his face, but he wasn’t sure how well he’d managed. Carefully, he slid one hand down to grip his friend’s shoulder. “Andrew?” he said, gently questioning. The faintest hint of a cheeky smile twitched at his mouth. “Still with me?”
"That was the first time anyone's ever kissed me," Andrew said quietly - and honestly, seeing as he was the one that initiated his first kiss and all - after Peter's words tried to prompt him out of his slight daze. Finally he blinked to finish snapping himself out of it. "Um. Yeah, yeah. I'm still here. You just, uh, surprised me is all."
And that was definitely the truth. Just a couple of hours earlier Andrew would have never guessed that he would have kissed Peter, or that Peter would have kissed him. He was still nervous as hell, and it felt like things were cutting flips in his stomach and his heart was most likely pounding, but for the moment he was content to sit there, eyes staying on Peter (for once) and not feeling any need to put distance between the two of them.
Peter did not visibly respond beyond a blink, but those first dazed words were like a smack in the face. Because it suddenly occurred to him, it hadn’t just been their first kiss, it was Andrew’s first. Of course it was his first. And it being his first, that meant that if this continued on in the same vein… then Peter could end up becoming Andrew’s first everything. And once again those doubts welled up, because what the fuck gave Peter the right to Andrew’s firsts, when one day, they could become something that Andrew regretted giving to him?
He fought the knots of anxiety back again; he couldn‘t afford to fall apart into a bundle of nerves and stressed worries again. Especially not now. He had done that enough in the past couple weeks. He needed to stay focused on the here and now, on Andrew’s voice and his face, his eyes looking back at Peter like he didn’t even know what. “Done panicking then? Or at least getting there?” he asked, not sure how to interpret the look Andrew was giving him. He hesitated a second before also asking, “Was it a good first one, at least?”
In response to Peter's first question, Andrew's lips spread into a somewhat shy grin as he gave him a slight nod. "I'm getting there," he said simply. And it was true. Andrew actually was calming down from the major freak out he'd had just a little while earlier, and he wouldn't have even begun to calm down yet if Peter hadn't followed him home and broken into his apartment. Which, admittedly, sounded terrible, but luckily he wasn't in a rush to try to impress anyone with that story. He may not know much about dating or anything like it, but he knew that it wasn't as cut and dry as 'a kiss means you're dating.' Andrew had no idea where they actually stood or anything, but at least he knew that yeah, Peter felt something for him. He was sure that kisses didn't feel like that if there was nothing behind them. At least, they didn't seem to in the movies.
The second question, however, made his face flush just one shade darker. He had always managed to avoid even answering simple questions about whether he found someone attractive or not, yet here he was, being asked if the kiss was good or not. "Yeah, it was," he answered, then added quickly, before he could stop himself, "Not that I have many to compare it to or anything, but I think it was."
And there it was, a ray of sunlight cutting through the clouds - one of those little shy smiles that made Peter freeze for a moment every fucking time anymore. And the doubts didn’t vanish, but they suddenly seemed a lot less urgent because god, if he could see that smile more often… And he couldn’t at all help the warm smile spreading across his own face at the sight and at Andrew‘s words, even as the tension in his shoulders relaxed some. Andrew had stopped running. He had initiated all of this, and he wasn’t running, and fuck, they might actually be getting somewhere.
The darkening blush in Andrew’s face just made Peter’s smile grow a little more, heated and soft all at once, and it was only further cemented in place by Andrew’s answer to his other question. “Good,” he said simply. But he couldn’t leave it at that; not when Andrew had given him such a perfect opening. So Peter cheekily added in, “I could do it again, if you like. As many times as you want. Give you more for comparison.” He leaned forward just a little, his eyes never leaving Andrew’s, but left enough space between them for Andrew to draw back. Or if he wished, to cross the rest of the distance and meet him in the middle. That was up to Andrew.
That was a smile that Andrew had not seen before, not coming from Peter. And it wasn't the sort of smile that Andrew would have ever thought would be directed at him. To be perfectly honest, it made him feel a lot like he was melting inside. Plus, Peter's reply and moving closer definitely didn't hurt the melty feeling.
The grin still in place, Andrew hesitated for just a moment before leaning in and closing the gap left between them, pressing his lips gently against Peter's for another kiss. He even brought up one hand to let it rest on the side of Peter's neck, his fingertips brushing the back of Peter's hair lightly. Andrew wasn't sure that he was doing this whole thing right, but at least it felt right. In fact, he thought it felt amazing.
When Andrew came back in for another kiss, it sent a warm wave of happiness through Peter. It was strange; Andrew was barely touching him at all, but that didn’t seem to matter. That slight, sweet contact was already making his head feel light, and then Andrew’s hand was on his neck, all warm fingers and slightly work-roughened skin, and how the fuck did someone who was so innocent about this sort of thing have such a magic touch?
Peter had never wanted any one person so bad as he wanted Andrew right then.
He tilted his head to the side just slightly, just enough to angle in and press a bit more firmly against Andrew’s mouth. He could feel Andrew’s fingertips teasing at the ends of his hair, sending shockwaves down his spine. Fucking hell, but these barest traces of touch were driving him crazy. The hand he still had cupping Andrew’s cheek slid back, tracing past his ear to cradle the back of his head. He couldn’t help but part his lips, just the tiniest bit, and deepen the kiss just that much.
Andrew had no previous experience when it came to kissing, so he was more than happy to just follow Peter's lead. Especially since Peter's lead was fantastic and sent chills down his spine and he loved the feeling of Peter's hand on the back of his head like that. He felt Peter shift to kiss him just a little different, and Andrew responded in kind, parting his own lips just slightly as well. Andrew let the kiss linger for a moment longer before finally breaking it, but only separating their lips by a centimeter or so.
Andrew's heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was just a bit hard as he smiled, not bothering to open his eyes yet.
Andrew started to pull back and Peter let him. He could feel Andrew’s warm breath on his face, felt a bit breathless himself, and damn, he wanted more. Opening his eyes, he could see Andrew smiling and fucking hell, he had a beautiful smile. It was like a fist around his heart, squeezing and making everything else disappear except for the two of them.
Peter’s hand moved from Andrew’s shoulder back to his cheek again, and he tipped his head forwards until his brow rested against Andrew’s. He licked his lips, shivering a bit at Andrew’s taste still lingering there, and tried to start thinking again. There was so much that needed said here, so much he still hadn’t figured out. But that was okay, because they would work it out. Even if whatever this was didn’t work, he refused to lose this friendship that had so quickly become so precious. Andrew would have to beat him off with a club if he wanted Peter to stay away from him now.
He tipped Andrews head back again and gave him a brief, barely there kiss. “No more hiding, okay?” Peter said against his mouth. “I keep saying it, and I mean it. You don’t ever need to hide from me.” He gave him one last quick kiss on the lips and drew back, giving him space to breathe, warm eyes locked on Andrew’s face and a content smile on his own.
Andrew couldn't help letting out one soft, quick chuckle at Peter's comment. Nodding a bit, he finally opened his eyes and looked at his best friend again. "I'll try not to," he said simply as he took his hand off of Peter's neck. "But this is still new to me, you know. I still... don't really know how to, you know, react to things." Andrew was slightly worried he would end up becoming clingy or something, probably to the point of driving Peter away, but he was trying not to focus on that just then.
Instead he asked another question, eyes never leaving Peter as he did so. "Why me?" It was a short question, and pretty to the point, but even Andrew was aware it might be a tricky one. There were a couple other things that Andrew wanted to ask him as well, and things he wanted to simply comment on, but those could wait for a moment.
Peter’s arms dropped, his hands coming down to grip Andrew’s arms, gentle and reassuring. “It’s alright, you know. Not like there’s a rulebook or anything,” he said lightly. “You’ll figure it out.”
And then Andrew asked that question. One of many that Peter knew had to be coming, one of many that he knew he had to be as honest as he could be about. The quivery feeling in his gut came back and it was reflexive to answer him with another question. “Why not you?”
Peter winced. That wasn’t quite right. Not what he meant and not how he wanted this conversation to go. “Let me rephrase that. How could it not be you?” His smile came back then, and the words just came out easily from there. “You were here for me this whole time. You stayed. You make me smile, and things don’t feel so shitty when you’re around. And you… god, you don’t fucking know how beautiful you are, even though I must’ve said it, what a hundred fucking times by now?” Peter leaned forward again, reaching to clasp Andrew‘s hands tight. “You’re special, Andrew. You deserve fucking better than me, but… how the fuck can I resist?”
Andrew listened intently and quietly as Peter spoke, still slightly wide eyed even if he didn't quite believe most of the things Peter was saying. But the thing was that Peter was the one saying them, and that in itself was striking Andrew in a way that he couldn't quite describe. Plus, Peter wanting to hold his hands was also welcome, and Andrew didn’t hesitate in letting him.
But the last part of Peter's speech struck him slightly differently though. Andrew blinked a bit at it before having to ask, "What do you mean, better than you? Who's supposed to be better than you?" It was another case of Andrew having the word vomits. He hadn't quite meant to ask that, but it was out there and, really, Andrew meant it. For once he wasn't quite wanting to take back his word vomit.
Peter was struck almost speechless when Andrew blurted that incredulous question out. He could do little more than stare, the surprise written all over his face. Surely Andrew knew how fucked up he was by now. But his response had been so instant, so fucking innocent, it couldn’t have been anything but the truth. That Andrew thought that highly of him was heart-wrenching and terrifying, and it put the most brilliant smile on Peter’s face. He couldn’t hide it if he tried. “You think way too highly of me, love,” he said, his voice low and warm with affection.
Then the smile quieted a bit, and he looked down at their clasped hands, stroking his thumb against the back of Andrew’s hand. This next part… it had to be said. He hadn’t been lying to Lexi and the others. He didn’t want to become someone Andrew regretted, and he didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. But he wanted this, wanted Andrew, far more than he wanted to admit, even if only to himself. He still didn’t know if it would even last, if it would grow into more or fizzle out and leave them both smoking in the dirt. This was most definitely selfish on his part… but Peter had never claimed to be anything else. So he spoke his piece.
“I’m not great with this, Andrew. You need to know that. I’ve never been the sort of man to do steady relationships. And there’s the drinking, and just…. All the fucking problems I‘ve got, fuck, I don’t even know how to classify it all. I’m not the most stable person. And I don’t have the right to call myself a good man. But…” he hardly dared look up, because Andrew already knew all of this, but it was no less difficult to lay all his faults out like this, where it could make or break… whatever they had going on between them. Selfish or not, Peter looked Andrew in the eye and got the last words out. “But I could try to be. To give it a shot. If you want.”
For a moment there Andrew thought that maybe Peter was going to say that no, he didn't actually want anything because of all the things he was listing off, and that he wasn't willing to try. But the thing was, Andrew already knew how Peter was, he'd already accepted those things about Peter for the most part. He wouldn't consider Peter as good of a friend if he didn't accept at least the majority of that. It even caused his smile to begin to falter a bit.
But then Peter was saying that he was willing to try, and that brought the smile back full force. "Yeah, yeah. I want to try," he said happily, and possibly just a little too quickly. Andrew couldn't help it though. He had reached the point where he'd been through so many dead end crushes that he had honestly come to terms with the fact that he was most likely just... not going to find anyone. But here he was. Sitting across from Peter and talking about the possibility that they might have a... something.
How, how, HOW did this man do that? How the fuck did Andrew just smile and make Peter instantly feel more sure of himself? There had to be some kind of magic to it, something that Peter had never encountered before, but fuck, whatever it was, it was more intoxicating than any drink or drug Peter had ever tasted. Andrew’s enthusiasm, his instant acceptance of Peter’s offer, it was so earnest and goddamn happy sounding. It set every nerve in his body on fire, chills and hot flashes through every part of him, and he didn’t know if this was what it felt to be truly happy, but it had to be damned close.
He was still fucking terrified, of course. Afraid of what this meant, and what would happen, but right now, he didn’t want to think about it. God, he was fucking tired of thinking. He didn’t know if the smile on his face revealed any of those fears. Maybe it did. He didn’t really care at the moment. Because Andrew was looking at him, with the most fucking beatific smile Peter had never seen on his face, and it was like he could breathe again for the first time in weeks. And he couldn’t even think of what to say now. All his words were used up. So instead, he just reached up and pulled Andrew in and kissed him again.