[SAV] IC INBOX/MAILBOX

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I N B O X

IC Contact " It's Andyr. Do your thing. " Mun Contact • PLURK: Wuzzafuzzle • Journal PM

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Good. [ firm, resolute. good. dead, or living something so pitiful they'd beg for it. like andyr did once. like so many other slaves do. it isn't living, isn't existence - just waiting to rot, or something worse. something like what andyr is now. there are some sins he can forgive. some errors of judgment, some acts of desperation. but any human being who can do that to another soul, as far as andyr's concerned, doesn't deserve redemption. ] Shoulda nuked them.

[ spoken distantly, somewhere else, before there's the touch his hair, careful and fussing, like when he's seen mothers clean smudges off their son's faces. like when his father would fix jehanne's braids at the park. and that straying touch against the mist sprayed coolness of his cheek, something like a small shiver running through him at the softness of the touch. something so, so foreign, and what reason at all does steve rogers have to issue something like that to him? what has he ever done to deserve it from him? what's inside him that seems worth it? that he could possibly see? ]

Why're you so nice to me? [ a near whispered question, spoken in something of a trance, andyr's eyes searching his face and feeling like there must be answers to all of this somewhere there. how, and why, steve's so kind, when he's seen things like whatever happened to bucky. why he'd seen only offers of assistance and welcoming in the baths the other day, when Andyr'd been certain there were ulterior motives. ] All I've done is hurt you.

[abide]

[ Something about the tone of their conversation feels strange like this, after everything that's come between them in the last several minutes, but Steve doesn't consider it beyond that. The slavers and what they had done are left as a memory, some of it now a little more permanent than he might have imagined it being, and what's important now is this moment, what lies between him and Andyr. What might never be again after this strange haze fades away and leaves them open and raw. He feels that shiver rather than sees it, hesitating at the curve of his jaw before pushing through and letting his hand slide down the slope of neck and shoulder. His skin is a bit chilled, cool from the water, but Steve feels the strength of him through that simple touch, gaze pulling away to look back at his face. ]

I never thought you meant it. [ Each and every time had almost been an accident, more Steve's fault than Andyr's, and that speaks so much to him. If he'd wanted to hurt him, if he'd wanted to do something more than that to anyone else, he would have seen it already. He would have heard it from the others, and he doubts that anyone who would take the time to draw him a fish or write him notes isn't deserving of some sort of kindness. ] And I guess... I don't know. From what you've said, people have been doing that to you all your life. Everyone should have something nice to remember.

[ He lifts his shoulder in a shrug and squeezes his fingers, letting their twined hands drop as he turns to look out at the waterfall. There's something else, too, but he's not sure what it is, opening his mouth to comment and falling short. Instead, the hand on his shoulder slips down to rush against his bicep. ] You want me to throw you in again to make up for it?

[ Poorly timed and a partial joke, though Steve's smile is genuine and sweet. ]

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[ had he been home, or even back on the Moira, a touch like this would have Andyr easily punching someone through a wall. reminds him too much of his body being coveted, claimed as property by someone through legal loopholes that keep the Houses thriving. ignoring any claim or right he has to his own skin in the light of either scientific endeavors or personal desires of a baser kind. but right now, it just seems... kind. warm. caring. an attempt to soothe, and Andyr wonders how he'd gone to that, when the topic issue had been Steve's enslavement. Andyr swallows dryly, lips a bit parted, with goosebumps prickling along his shoulders and arms, eyes holding Steve with such focus. ]

Not all my life. [ the last several years, but there was a life before that. one he'll never be able to go back to. but god, it was a dream, thinking of it now. he was normal once, do you know that, steve? he had a father, a sister, a mother. a house, he went to school, worked a job, had friends. he'd had a life, with hopes and dreams and laughter and love. and it's gone. Steve says he's been wanting to give him something nice, and suddenly Andyr feels like such a weak thing, frail, yet isn't rushing immediately to anger from it. ] So it's pity?

[ Spoken plainly, without any kind of heat behind it, just a question, as his brows knit somewhat. is that what he is now? he supposes it makes sense. Steve gripping suddenly at his bicep wakes him up somewhat, a flicker of a smile on his lips, and his hands moving to grip Steve's forearms, to keep his balance and fight at the attempt to move him, if it comes. he laughs, though it's a bit removed. ]

Whatever, no matter how much of that you do, it's not gonna keep me from thinking you're a marshmallow.

[abide]

There's a difference between wanting to be nice to someone because they deserve it and pitying them. It's not pity, Andyr.

[ Whatever he thinks, whatever he might assume. There's not enough room in Steve to feel that way, though maybe he'd once felt it when they'd first met all those months ago. He'd wanted to understand, wanted to know, and now that he does, at least some of it, there's more than that to what he thinks of Andyr. Pity would belittle the strength he sees in him, his own brand of sincerity beneath all the snark and bite, and those hands at his arms suddenly warm him in a way that makes him shiver this time, the ache of the bite still deep in his skin soothed by the very pressure of his fingers. He hadn't actually considered throwing him, trying to off-put the strange intensity that's building between them with a little humor.

There's a quiet sigh, letting his arms slide slowly from Andyr's hands. ] You really think that's what I am, huh? [ It's a partial tease, uncertain about the answer but leaning closer to the other man regardless of that. In the fading light, he can focus on the shape of his face and the rhythm of his breathing and the soft pull of a smile on his mouth. Steve's eyes drop to his lips and then back to his eyes. He doesn't know what he's thinking, isn't sure he'd been thinking straight since he'd said he would join him, and a slight frown tugs at his expression. ] Because I'm nice to you?

[ Because he's nice to almost everyone? ]

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[ deserve it. what has he done to deserve anything like kindness? near everything andyr's done in the last six years has been to make a nightmare of himself. to leave bloodbaths in hallways, to make guards scream so loud it echos up to the House director's desk. there's been moments of compassion - for posie, for mikal. for alva. but even to the majority of the other mice, he'd been like some wraith that stalks the halls, crying out for blood, willing to charge straight through them to get what he wants. even the ones that'd tried to give him the benefit of the doubt had gotten too fed up with him eventually. hell, even alva had thrown a punch or two at him once. and yet, here's some super hero giving him fish drawings and putting up with being not only bitten, but choked twice, hanging out with him under waterfalls at night.

more accurately: having faith in him. andyr's starting to feel suspiciously like a living, breathing human being. ]

Because you say sappy, sweet crap like that. [ Flashing a small smile, his own attempt to lighten the tone, and maybe all he could think of to really reply to that. the rest of it seemed like entirely too much to put into words, and entirely too personal and soft as well. But he can't help tagging on the disclaimer, voice softer, as his eyes follow Steve leaning closer to him, words a bit quieted. ] It's a good thing.

[ watching him, andyr can tell he'd looked down to his lips, and tugs at one with his teeth a moment, nerves rising in him, but a completely familiar curiosity striking up - what it'd be like if he'd just leaned those few inches closer, if he just brush his lips against Steve's. It causes him to reflexively blink down to Steve's mouth, and quickly back up, resolutely meeting his gaze for a beat or two. Steve's arms have slid to that Andyr's hands are only loosely circled around his wrists, but it's enough he can feel his pulse there, making Steve feel like entirely too real and present of a person. ]

Your eyes are really pretty. [ #nailedit. ]

[abide]

[ He almost doesn't believe it. A good thing when he continues to call him a marshmallow? Like he's soft and sweet and nothing of the soldier he really is. But maybe that's not entirely it, wishing to know more of what makes Andyr who he is and the reason behind all of this. Why they've gotten so close, what draws Steve to him and makes him pursue someone who needs more than what he could ever possibly give him in whatever time they might have on the Moira. Why he suddenly feels so protective and responsible for this person who's worked his way deep under his skin. Andyr knows more about him than almost anyone else, things that aren't written in history books or on walls in a museum, and there's something warming about that, about someone else knowing Steve and only wanting to know him. It causes a tight feeling in his chest, shifting just a fraction closer to listen to him.

His hearing is so good, he'd have heard him sitting on the opposite side of this ledge, but he wants to be close to him. He wants to soak up that warmth, gently turning his hands around so that they're holding each other in a loose sort of embrace. Steve lets his thumb slide over the inner part of Andyr's wrist, huffing out an embarrassed sort of noise at the way he compliments him. ]

I never paid much attention to 'em. [ And he ducks his head a bit, trying to fight the instinctive blush that's creeping up his neck into his ears. At least it's getting darker, so there's no reason why Andyr should be able to see it well enough to comment on it. Yet, it doesn't stop Steve from pushing further into his personal space. ] Yours are real nice though. It's the first thing I noticed about you when we met.

[ Besides the obvious similarities to his best friend, of course, and because honesty seems to be the order of the evening, as it had been at the party. Steve breaks contact with Andyr's hand to lift his fingers up to touch his cheek, careful and slow and eventually cupping the side of his face. ] Some other things too, I guess. [ His gaze settles at his mouth for a bit longer this time, trying to sort out what he feels and what he wants to say, and it sits so long that he doesn't even realize he's staring now. ]

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[ The thumb brushing along Andyr's wrist sends a small chill through him, that turns into a soft laugh, when he watches Steve duck his head, modest. but more than that, the comment on his eyes has a small smile twitching the corner of his lips up, and gradually growing wider. He'd always been proud of the weird color there. Thought it made him look special, unique, despite how coined it was as freakish, the mark of pariahs. Steve's hand is at his cheek again, more solid than the brief touch before had been, and it's such a soft, careful gesture.

the contact's warm, soothing in a way that reaches into him and pushes that want to go with each small whim and urge that comes across his mind. hand free, he lifts his own to touch at steve's face, exploring. first, along the arch of his eyebrow, and down, beneath his eye, just above his cheekbone, over the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw, and lastly, to the curve of his lips. a hesitant, cautious touch, as if he's not allowed, as if he'll have his hand slapped away any moment, and Andyr's sort of holding his breath, while his fingertips trace an outline of steve's lips.

it happens all at once, that push in the back of his mind shoving him into the action before he thinks better of it, and andyr can't seem to remember what happened in the space between touching Steve's lips and kissing them.

his hand over Steve's curls, squeezing a bit tighter, and the fingers once at his mouth move up to push into his hair. there's nothing hard or demanding in it, nor anything shy or fleeting. just a kiss, because he'd wanted to, because he needed to feel it, because it's Steve and Steve's something Andyr just can't wrap his mind around, but finds himself admiring nonetheless. ]

[abide]

[ Maybe he should have expected it, the soft pressure of Andyr's mouth against his, but there's too much happening around them to really calculate every outcome, grateful for the touches that come before it and strangely grounded in his presence. It's a different sort of sensation he gets from being with anyone else, soaking it up the closer they get, and when Steve turns into Andyr's fingertips, he knows he's lost to whatever comes next.

The kiss steals his breath, however careful yet firm it is, and his fingers curl against his cheek, instinct as he fights between pulling away to give them both space and pursuing even more of this to taste him. It's intimate in that Andyr is never so touchy, doesn't like to be touched even when he's given his permission, the proof of that torn deeply into his skin, and Steve opens up to that almost instantly, lips parting to deepen that contact out of want rather than necessity or anything else. If it ends, at least there will be these few seconds of it, and Steve's bold enough to draw the hand he still holds to his shoulder, freeing his own to use it as leverage to press even closer. There are too many sensations to take in all that once too - the rush of the water, the heat of Andyr's skin, the damp slide of his lips, the movement of his chest as he breathes - but he tries to sort them one by one, brushing his knuckles against the side of his face before caressing the slope of neck and shoulder.

He doesn't fight the reasons why he should or shouldn't be doing this. He doesn't question the what or how of it. Steve only draws back enough to rest their foreheads together and tries to remember to breathe. ] Andyr-- [ But he's stuck on just his name, swallowing and cautiously licking at his bottom lip. It's strange and not. It's satisfying and complicated, and whatever lies beyond this is something he knows he can't let go of now. ]

[deconstruct]

[ To Andyr, someone who's had so few experiences like this, and only one this slow and simple, it makes his head spin. Another time, back on the Moira, he would've jerked away here, and likely scampered off, too concerned with what this is, and what it would lead to, how it would end in hurt for one party or the other. but right now, it's just good, and Andyr's been so long without something that's just simply good. Not wound up in anything else. He's kissing him because he wants to, because it makes some cold part of him unfurl and warm, basking in the heat and softness of it.

It makes him feel like a person. Like someone that might matter, that maybe has a voice, that would perhaps be noticed if he were to disappear. He touches him like he's something treasured, and Andyr feels like he's lighting up.

Steve's hands on his skin are a heavy, nurturing presence, impossible to ignore and Andyr's body wants to sink into the contact. It's instantaneous, how he pulls closer once Steve moves Andyr's hand to his shoulder, and he slides his knee to put a folded leg next to Steve's hip, between that and the arm supporting him, the other bends, sole of his foot propped somewhere on the other side of Steve's lap, getting his limbs more comfortable as he scoots his way closer. The hand at his shoulder turns to an arm, looped over his back, from one to the other, and the other runs a thumb along Steve's cheekbone, shuffled close enough their chests are only a few inches from pressed together, by the time Steve pauses, their foreheads touching while deep inhales are drowned out in the rush of the waterfall. ]

Yeah. [ he knows. all the 'we shouldn't do this' and 'let's slow down', but god, he knows he'll lose this if they do. an open palm smooths over the side of Steve's face, a soft caress, and he dares to press one, and two, short, pleading kisses to him, wanting more of it. ] Can we just... not think about the rest? For a while longer?

[abide]

[ It's not about slowing down or not doing this at all. It's not about wanting or needing, and it certainly has nothing to do with the fact he hasn't really kissed someone like this before. He just doesn't know where this is going to put them when it's all over, when he can think a little more clearly and doesn't remember the vivid heat of his mouth and the slick touch of his skin beneath his hand. There's an unnamed pull telling him to finally move himself, using the leverage of Andyr's arms around his neck to tug him across the short space between them and into his lap, and there's no almost where they're touching now. Their chests are pressed flat, Steve's fingers pressing into his hips as if searching for something to steady himself, and he nods against him, lets their noses rub and their lips graze in a way that's nearly desperate in wanting to understand exactly why they're doing this and what else could be taken from this moment. ]

No thinking. [ It's quiet agreement, mumbled against the corner of his mouth, and this is where his courage fails him, unsure what he wants and what he's supposed to do. He could kiss him again, Steve thinks, and he wants to give into that easy feeling of showing Andyr just how good the world can be if he gives it a chance, how nice something as sweet as a kiss actually is. But there's also a growing sort of hesitation. ] I just-- [ have no idea what I'm doing ] Tell me this is okay.

[ At least give him that much. Whatever else is after that is something they'll have to come to terms with later, biting down lightly on his tongue before swallowing the rest of the words that refuse to come and kissing him. It's softer than the first time, exploring and careful until he parts his lips and presses deeper. Steve doesn't push for more than that, wanting to give Andyr the opportunity to decide beyond that initial slide of their mouths what it is he wants. His fingers stroke up his sides, tracing the shape of his ribs and smoothing up along his back to curl around his shoulder blades. He purposely avoids the ports, dragging his mouth along the curve of his jaw and to his ear, and when he speaks again, his voice is rougher. ] Do you... what do you want?

[deconstruct]

[ There's no argument or protest to Steve hoisting Andyr up into his lap. Some surprise, perhaps, which quickly melts into Andyr grinning against Steve's lips, a muted laugh in the back of his throat, as he settled against him. Steve's bare skin is warm and welcoming, even with the bit of water still clinging to his chest in a light sheen, and Andyr presses against him, arms tightening around his shoulders, fingers carding through short, damp strands of dark blond. His hips arch forward into Steve's hands, fingers running around the curves of his shoulders. ]

If it wasn't okay, you'd know. [ if there's one thing andyr's good at, it's making sure the entire world knows when he's not alright with something. but, fine, he'll tell him anyway. ] It's okay. It's really okay.

[ And god, why do you have to go asking him that? he couldn't tell the man what he wants on a normal day, let alone now, when he's settled into his lap, pressing against him at every point he can, a light roll of his hips against Steve's mostly unconscious. Didn't they just talk about 'no thinking'? A low, quiet chuckle rumbles in Andyr's chest, as he kisses continuously across Steve's cheeks, at the corners of his eyes, against his temples and just below his ears. ]

I just wanna keep touching you. However you want that to happen, I'm happy with. [ until one of them comes around to their sanity, Andyr's guessing Steve first, and calls a stop to it. that'll be a painful moment, he thinks, and forgive him for avoiding it as much as he can for now. ]

[abide]

[ He doesn't know why, but the first thing he really notices about Andyr is that he isn't soft. Nothing about him is, all hard angles and muscle, and it's even more distinct when he rocks his hips into his like Steve wouldn't notice or feel it at all. He feels everything, what little experience he has absently filing this under things he has no comparison with, but he thinks that, despite all that, he likes this. He really likes this, the intimate press of their bodies and the almost private enclosure around them thanks to the waterfall, and his eyes flutter shut, head tipping back to press into the fingertips in his hair. This is so... Steve doesn't have a word for it, unsure why they're here and why this suddenly seems like the best thing to do, nodding in answer to Andyr's words before pushing his hands over his shoulders and up his neck to cup his face again.

He brings their foreheads together, their noses and their mouths. A soft kiss to his lips, and he full-body shivers, more from the intensity of this intimacy than the fact there's a slight chill to the air now. ]

Okay. [ And it's said almost in mimic to Andyr's own agreement, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His own breath is hot against Andyr's skin, and Steve wants to melt into him, wants to take all the uncomplicated feelings he has for him and just sink deep in his embrace. This will make it worse, when either of them can think clearly, when he has time to realize that he'd dragged Andyr into his lap to kiss him again and again, but he doesn't consider that now. He doesn't have the desire to. ] Okay. Let me--

[ He still doesn't know what he's doing, has no clue what he's saying. It shuts him down when he gets a second grip on Andyr's hips, freezing as he draws back to look at him. When he swallows, all the words stick in his throat. ] How do you want to do that exactly? [ And the flush is already creepy up into his neck, pretty sure he could figure out an idea or two if left to his own for a few minutes longer. Yet, some part of him wants to hear Andyr say it too, and Steve bites at his lip. ]

[deconstruct]

[ yeah, okay, so he's turned on some, sue him. you just pulled him into your lap like he weighs as much as a chihuahua, steve, it was hot. not to mention the part where they've been aggressively making out, and god, andyr didn't realize how much he needed something like this. someone like steve, after the last month or so of gradually falling apart in this place, trying to fit to it, trying to mold himself back into something he'll never be again. normal, naive, innocent. he needed this break to just let himself feel worthwhile, cared for, and not so goddamn alone in everything.

he leans into every touch, eyes closed and a soft sort of hum of contentment coming from low in him. it's impossible to miss steve shivering against him, and andyr's lips pull into a smile against his. he's asking for instruction, and it's dawning on andyr that he must not have much experience with this. not that andyr really has any more, and that thought seems some kind of funny to him - that smile pulling into a wider grin, before he shakes his head, giving another careful, slow, full kiss to his lips. ]

Just this is fine. We don't have to do anything else. [ Just lips brushing together, skin warm and close, hands over arms and shoulders and chests. Doesn't have to be any more than this, and being that he's having the distinct impression that Steve' nervous about anything more, Andyr's not going to push him, or even ask for it. Hell, they're probably way past what they'd normally be comfortable with anyway. Andyr's easy to please, and this is more than enough for him. ]

Unless you want to. [ because andyr's will is weak, in the face of such sweet affection and easy pleasure. he's had so, so much of it missing in his life, and he's starved for it. he'll find himself pathetic for this, later, but right now, he makes the offer, if steve wants something more, because his self control is a joke right now. ]

[abide]

[ It'd be easy to just give into the push at the back of his mind telling him to put aside those insecurities and just take. It'd be easy to loop his arm around his waist and lift him up, roll them over so that he was spread out beneath him like he's seen in, well. The twenty-first century has desensitized him to a lot of things that would have never even been whispered about in the era he'd grown up, and the flush that had slid down his neck is blossoming into his chest and heating him straight to his core at the thought of doing even a fraction of those things. The hum doesn't help, his proximity already arousing as it is, and the way he speaks is so... He fights not to shiver against him again, letting his lips part in the way they seem to want to when Andyr kisses him, and maybe he's right. They didn't have to do anything else. They didn't have to move, didn't have to leave or go urgently rushing off somewhere. They could stay like this, wrapped up together and savoring what small affections they're allowing themselves.

But that momentary thought slips in beneath the sweetness, and Steve doesn't think he wants to do that right now. Just a little longer, and the reality of it would sink them down into something other than this moment. ]

Do you want to? [ Because his hands are sliding down to rest on his thighs, the curve of his mouth against his collarbone, and Steve turns to rest his cheek against Andyr's shoulder and chest, listening for the steady rhythm of his heart and just plain soaking in everything that encompasses this person in his arms. God, he feels like a teenager again, all awkward insecurities and inexperience, and it's not as if Steve doesn't know anything. He's just not sure if this is one-hundred percent what either of them should be doing despite the fact he might actually want it. (He really, really wants it. Or so he thinks.) ] I'm good if you are. [ To do something else, letting his palms drag at Andyr's legs until he's even closer so he can press tight against him and he can feel just how true that is. ]

nnnssffffwwwwwww

[deconstruct]

[ Pulled closer against him, their hips slotting together with such thin, wet fabric being all that separates them, Andyr'd breathing hitches, feeling just how much Steve's enjoying this. How honest he's being in wanting more. He hadn't been expecting Steve to want anything else beyond kissing, hell, was waiting to be pushed away just for that. But here he is, hauled into his lap, Steve pulling him closer and plying him for more. This isn't a decision that should be left up to him, Andyr so, so starved for just something good as it is, and so ill practiced in self-restraint. But it is left up to him, and Steve will just have to learn better in the future. ]

You sure? [ a quiet, whisper of question against Steve's temple, as his hips roll against him, harder and more prominent than before, purposeful. The arm around his shoulder slips free, trailing down his bare chest, fingers splayed wide as he feels the thudding of Steve's heart, the flex of muscle there, until it's over his stomach, than below his navel, that slipping over the thin, thin fabric of his pants to palm at the shape of him through wet cloth, soft at first, and gradually growing more firm, fingers curling around his girth. ]

If you want me to stop, just say so. [ he'll hardly take offense from it. of everyone on this ship, andyr might be the most concerned about consent and the agency to say no and be heard. His lips kiss along the side of steve's face, along his jaw, and against his neck, sweet and slow. ]

[abide]

[ They simply need to learn more about each other when there's more time to talk, when they're not distracted by something this nice. Steve might be wavering just a little, hesitating in the wake of those kisses, but the second Andyr's hand presses down to palm him through the soaked fabric of his pants, Steve's brain quickly shifts gears to respond almost too eagerly. His hips lift, seeking the weight of those fingers and the heat of Andyr's body plastered close to him, and his own hands slide to touch anything and everything he can, memorizing the shape of his chest and the curve of his arms. He can't stop, tilting his head into the pressure of his mouth to kiss him even harder—an agreement to speak up if he needed to. ]

I'm-- [ Steve fumbles for the words, breathing against his lips and rubbing into him until he honestly can't decide if he should actually follow through with what he'd been considering just a few minutes before this. He lets his fingers dip down to the waistline of Andyr's pants. ] I said I was good. This is good. [ And too many other things as well, the confusion falling away as he surrenders to the need for just a bit more. Steve grips his thighs and holds him close as he lies back, dragging Andyr down with him and mindful of the ports in his back as his hands slide to grip his ass. Everything is nerves and heightened senses, the sensations mingled together and singing through his blood.

His lips ghost Andyr's jaw. ] Are you okay like this? [ Because he still doesn't know, pushed into blindly following the instincts of his body rather than using experience he doesn't have. It feels good, at least, and maybe that's all that matters right now. That, and how Andyr is, if he likes this and if he wants just as much as Steve does. He'll consider it later, his own feelings beyond the superficial, but for now, he pulls him down as he grinds up and groans in the back of his throat. ]

[deconstruct]

[ Steve Rogers is full of surprises. Every time Andyr thinks he has him figured out, he does something new and bewildering. Like gripping his ass and pulling him to lay on top of him, while they basically dry hump. A gasp pulls from him that quickly morphs into a groan, as Steve's hips grind upwards against him. He feels beyond blissful, even with how much this feels like horny teenagers fumbling around - it's still exciting in a way he hasn't had in a long time, and every inch of his body just feels lit up with sweet sensation. his knees on either side of Steve's thighs hug close, and for moment, Andyr bows his head against Steve's shoulder, and loses himself in grinding back against him, feeling his hardness rub up against Steve's length, as if there's no cloth there at all for how thin it is. ]

I'm good. [ He murmurs out quickly, head nodding slightly, and lets out a breathless laugh, adding onto it. ] I'm perfect like this.

[ And he wants Steve to be as well. Snaking the hand that'd been palming at him back in, from where he'd moved it aside to splay over Steve's stomach a moment ago, deft fingers yank at the cords holding his pants to him, loosening them up, before sliding his hand underneath, bypassing undergarments to feel the warmth of him directly against his skin, hot and heavy in his hand as fingers curl around his length. like this, he can feel ever twitch of him, every leap, and Andyr pumps him in even strokes, firm and unrelenting, wanting to hear another groan pulled from him. lips kiss along Steve's chest, over his collar bones and shoulders, the hollow of his throat, and down his sternum as he works at him. ]

[abide]

[ Back when he'd been touring with the USO, there had been more than a handful of times that some of the women he performed with tried to solicit him for something a little more intimate than just practicing their next performance. Wandering hands, a sweet smile or soft kiss-- they were respectable ladies, most of them, and Steve had never been the kind of guy to take advantage of a situation like that. (He wouldn't have known what to do with it anyway.) And this? The way they move together, the hitch of his breath and the sound of his laugh, the way he kisses him... He doesn't know what to do with it either, but he tries. He tries, and he pushes back against Andyr with the same sort of fervor, turned on and needing more than the simple weight of his body atop his but not knowing what to ask for.

It changes when those fingers get into his pants, dizzy with how much his body takes charge of something his mind can't wrap around, and he bites his lip again, hard enough to smother whatever sound might escape him this time. They might be alone, but Steve is so used to close quarters and limited privacy; he doesn't want to be overheard in case someone happens to wander this way. Instead, he just digs his fingers into him even harder and holds on, some subconscious thought in the back of his head telling him that Andyr isn't fragile, isn't soft. He's built to floor him, has done so on more than one occasion, and Steve has no idea why that's just as arousing as the very touch around his cock, breathing out a low noise of pent-up want as his hips jerk into the rhythm of his hand. ]

Andyr — [ He swallows thick around his name, struggling for the words and any reason that might be good enough to get them to stop this just long enough to talk about it. Still, there's no talking between them except Steve's uncertainty when it comes to trying to reciprocate, saying his name again. Then again. ] What do you want me to do? [ At least his voice is steady, absently raking his fingers up his sides before pushing them down beneath the wet material of his pants to feel skin under his palms. He thinks about trying to roll them over again, let himself explore the expanse of chest and shoulders and stomach the way Andyr is doing right now, but he waits, lingers there as he squeezes his ass and grinds them together. ]

[deconstruct]

[ andyr's back arches, and a sweet, gasped moan filters out against the side of Steve's neck, as his hands slip under andyr's pants and grip firm at his ass, bare and unrestricted in the contact. steve wants to know what he should be doing, but god, andyr hardly knows what he's doing himself, grinding back against him, as his hand strokes over steve's cock, palm circling over the head and thumb dragging through the moisture beading at the tip. as steve's groping and squeezing at his ass, he's getting more of an idea of what he wants to do, but even with the dizzying, overwhelming want thrumming in him, that's likely a step too far.

and yet, andyr squirms a hand down to push at the waistband of his soaked pants, hips shifting to shuffle the cloth off, until it's around his thighs, and soon, shimmied out of and kicked aside, leaving andyr completely bare against steve, cock flushed hard where he slots against the curve of steve's hips, a shivered sigh rattling from him at the contact. ]

I want you to do whatever you feel like doing. There's no wrong answer, Steve. [ he whispers against steve's lips, coming up to kiss him slow and sweet and indulgent. god, but he can't seem to get enough. ] Touch wherever you want, take whatever you want. Come here.

[ releasing him for a moment, andyr's hands raise to steve's shoulders, and as he leans back, he pulls him forward, rolling them, so that Andyr's back touches the rock beneath them, and Steve's pulled to blanket over him, andyr's legs parting to frame his hips. like this, steve. he pulls at him to lay against him, not asking steve to strip down like he had - if he wants to, andyr won't complain, but he isn't going to push him to. there's just something freeing in being bared like this, in a situation like this, under hands like steve's, being kissed and held and caressed all over like steve's doing. ]

[abide]

[ There's no wrong answer, he says, but Steve feels like everything is balanced just on the edge of it, turned on and anxious and completely unsure in this moment. He knows very little aside from the obvious, aside from Andyr's hands warm on his skin and his mouth scorching a trail wherever he presses a kiss. He fumbles with his clothes, freeing himself of those thin pants, and it's hardly the first time Steve has seen him naked. Yet, this is the first time he's wanted to look, to let his eyes linger and remember the line of his hips and the dip of his navel. What his cock looks like. A shiver drives itself through him, blindly following Andyr's example, and when he's over him, resting some of his weight on an elbow and fingers combing through damp hair to tilt his face back, he wants so much that he doesn't even know how to begin to voice it.

Instead, he tries to breathe and slow down, a shy note to the way he kisses the corner of his mouth and simply whispers his name against his jaw. There are more kisses, touching the edge of his collarbone and breathing hot against his sternum, looking down and memorizing every detail that he can. Something still continues to war with him, telling him to stop and step back and give them space before they cross a line that'll be too difficult to ever return from, but the drowsiness of his want - a different sort of urging - smothers it flat, fingers splaying over his stomach and inching low. Lower. Slow and steady, and touching Andyr isn't really too much different than touching himself besides size and shape. And he's so hot, burning up as Steve's eyes glance at his face and then back down to the hard jut of his dick between his fingers with too many thoughts overwhelming him to ever pick one.

So, he just lets the first thing on the tip of his tongue roll out of his mouth, curling his hand tight as he leans back to bump his nose against Andyr's. ] I want you. [ It's such a simple thing, a heavy admittance that sinks through him, and isn't it obvious by how affected he is because of all this? He wants more of Andyr's touch, wants to hear his voice and feel the way he presses against him. The soft sounds and the sweetness that comes from it, how it grips tight around his heart and nearly chokes him with it. ] Tell me-- [ But he shakes his head and finally moves, lets his fingers stroke the length of him as he lifts his hips and looks down to watch.

More than anything, he wants to see it, remember it, and there's no embarrassment in that moment, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Steve tries to work it into a rhythm, testing what he likes and what he might not. He grips him hard, strokes him harder, and then, alternates to something slow, easy and lazy. It's all instinct now, thinking how much better it'd be if he slid out of his own pants and rocked against him without a single stitch of clothing, but he's too focused on this, on the testing and touching and watching. He's too focused on Andyr feeling good, tripping over every unspoken word he still wants to whisper in his ear and shuddering with it. Just a little more, he thinks, and his hand slides around him easier now, wetter with each push of his hand. He grinds himself against the inside of his thigh.

Just a little more. ]

[deconstruct]

[ for the first moment since that kiss, there's a lull in the downward tumbling of them, and andyr feels a sort of buzzing, nervous excitement flit through him, as steve looks over his bared body, eyes drinking in details, examining, tracing with his hands and his lips. he can count the times he's been intimate like this on one hand, the first time all teenage fumbling, and the second too fast and fierce to have a moment as calm as this. he hasn't felt this brand of nerves under assessment in a long time, and there's that basic thrum of desire to be appreciated, wanted and liked. to be a fond memory, something that floats into steve's head in later days and drives him a little insane. god knows andyr's going to be doing the same with the picture of him breathing heavy, all red on his chest, neck and cheeks, with the clear outline of his flushed cock showing, wet fabric clinging too closely.

it's a simple sort of affection in the way his lips part at the whisper of his name, sounding foreign and so much more weighted on steve's tongue, and andyr presses his face into Steve's, lifting just to rub his cheek against his - just to feel him, to be here with him, the simple and pure fondness of it. his fingers curl around andyr's length, and he shivers to be touched so intimately. i want you, steve tells him, with his hand feeling to warm around his cock, and his body pressing down against him with such a reassuring, pleasant weight, andyr entirely stripped and laid out for him. being open and free like this is something of a thrill, and when steve starts to stroke him, hard and firm and slow and languid, lord almighty, his head spins. ]

God-- You've got me, Steve. [ andyr breathes out in a harsh, hitched whisper, as his body arches and bows up against him, and his arms wrap over steve's broad, strong shoulders. he can feel the muscle pull and tense, fingertips digging in slightly, and when lidded eyes find steve's there's a breathless smile on his lips, pupil blown wide and andyr looking perfectly blissed out, as he catches his lips for a slow, passionate kiss, muttering against his lips as his hips roll up to meet steve's hand. ] Just like that.

[ a leg pulls up, squeezing tight to steve's side, and the other, with steve grinding against his thigh, pushing back up against him. this feels like heaven, having steve touch him so sweetly, making his body sing, but there's the concern that steve needs something else, that leaving him to grind against andyr's thigh isn't enough. ] Do you need more? [ doesn't have to be sex, but there's other things andyr can come up with. ]

[abide]

[ Maybe it isn't fair to give promises he isn't sure he'll be able to keep, but for just a moment, between the soft affection of Andyr rubbing his cheek against his and smiling so wonderfully, Steve wants to offer him the world. It's a strange rush of endorphins, an intoxication that burns right through him as they kiss, and this is what he knows, the press of his lips and the depth of his mouth as he jerks him off with a straightforwardness that reads as anything but foreplay. There is none of that here, just a rough fumbling of limbs and bodies and an unspoken need between them that stems from deep in his chest. Elsewhere, too, but Steve is solely focused on Andyr now, not the pressure of his own arousal as he rolls his hips forward to thrust against him or the bite of his own sweat when his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. It's the slickness of Andyr's cock between his fingers, the heavy murmur of his name and that gentle question that pulls him along like he's lost in the current. If they're loud, it doesn't matter. Because no one would think to swim across that lagoon and find them tucked away behind this waterfall, and no one would ever see just how completely undone he is with Andyr wrapped around him. ]

Maybe. [ Said in a rush, hot against his skin. But he likes the way he says his name, how responsive and open he is, and Steve can't understand why it had taken him so long to get to this point, to chase after someone who might be something and means more than he knows. Steve kisses him as he pushes him down, squeezing the base of his cock and pulling up to the tip in one long, slow motion. ] No. [ And he kisses down his throat, trying to think but stuck on what it is he could do to him instead. ] It's okay.

[ Because he's moving again, letting his free hand push down against Andyr's thighs until they're parted and he can adjust how he's snug against him, thoughts numb as he follows the line of his chest to the spot over his heart. A kiss there, and he doesn't stop, exploring with his mouth what he'd seen with his eyes, feeling the anticipation building and the nervousness so overwhelming by the time he's got his tongue in his navel. Steve doesn't know what he's doing, only thinks about the things he'd heard so long ago in a camp with other men and their exploits, and he's sure he wants to give him something else, something that might be a little better than his hand despite his lack of experience.

If he goes slow, it's just a matter of will, and Steve drags his fingers from Andyr to taste them, to judge for himself before dipping his head and pressing his mouth against the juncture of thigh and torso. His courage is slow to gather, though he's too drunk on the feeling of what it'll be like to watch Andyr come to feel too inhibited by it, and it's a tentative drag of his tongue along the side of his dick before gripping him again and pushing his lips down around him. ]

[deconstruct]

[ all it takes is that 'maybe', and andyr's ready to take control of this again; ease steve back and give him something better than skin on skin, but steve seems to have already committed himself to the concept, as andyr watching him make his way down his body. he isn't sure, at first, if that's what he's going for, and he'd hardly complain if he got lower and abandoned the idea, but all it takes is that first, exploratory like, and andyr's losing what little sense he had left. he's almost mournful of having steve absent from his arms, but watching the man curiously tasting andyr from the hand he'd been stroking him with sends his mind into a mad reel, enough that it's shoved to the side, and andyr's pushing up on an elbow to watch steve carefully push his lips down around him - a sensation that leaves him feeling weak and blissfully distracted from everything in the world that isn't steve fucking rogers.

a hand's settled on his shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze, but ready to pull him back up to his lips the second he seems to find himself in over his head. it's a lot to ask of someone who hasn't done something like this before, and especially someone like steve, who puts so much thought into every little thing he does. but steve doesn't see at all ready to stop, and andyr's a mess of thighs shaking under his hands holding him spread, and low moans and hitched gasps. andyr's fingers push into his hair, and it's an effort to keep his eyes open, and his head from falling back, his body from melting, but he wants to see, wants to watch steve's lips, full and red, around his cock, as he feels his tongue dragging up the underside of him, the insides of his cheeks hugging tight against him. ]

Steve... God, you feel so good. [ andyr gasps out, as the hand in his hair tightens reflexively at a particularly good swipe of his tongue, andyr's eyes squeezing closed, head dropping to lay his cheek against the raised shoulder where he's propped himself up. it's an effort to stay present, but he blinks open again, lips parted and chest heaving with quaking pants, as he drinks in the sight of it. steve rogers, steve fucking rogers, bowed down between his legs, licking and sucking at him like he's something holy, looking at him like he's just wanting to get approval, just to make andyr happy. it fills him with a kind of overwhelming fondness andyr doesn't know what to do with it, other than pet his damp hair back, and smooth his palm along his cheek adoringly, thumb sweeping over a high cheekbone. ] You're freaking gorgeous, you know? S'like a dream.

[ words all languid and slow, but honest. steve's an incredible person, with a beautiful soul most can only hope to strive for - big as he is now, or small as he was when they were younger. andyr couldn't care less which version of him was between his legs now, or arched over him, or kissing him as sweetly as steve's been. for a moment, he thinks of that younger steve, his stiffness and his awkward little smile and the simple, honest look to his eyes. watches steve, and thinks he still sees that boy in him, andyr's lips pulling in a breathless and tired, but blissful, little smile. beautiful, sweet, honest, righteous, stubborn, gorgeous steve.

searching, andyr's hand reaches for steve's, the one not occupied circling the base of his dick, and runs his palm over the back of steve's hand, to thread their fingers together just like that. pulling at him, he drags the warm sweep of his palm up along his stomach and chest, before his fingers curl in completely, holding tight to him through the throes of this. ]