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For someone who spent years of his life on the run, Neil loves being on stage.
It’s not because of the people who come out to watch them; although it’s always nice to feel like people want to see them, it’s also a cause of a fair amount of both Neil and Andrew’s anxieties. Too many people means too many opportunities for one of them to get distracted, and their lives have been historically fucked up enough that that can’t happen.
But he loves what he does. He loves being out with Andrew, watching Andrew because when they’re up there it’s like Andrew forgets how much he hates being watched and hates feeling like he has to perform. It’s natural, and every single time, it’s the hottest thing Neil has ever seen. Every time. Sure, by definition that should kinda make it impossible, but he’s yet to end a show and not immediately drag Andrew into the nearest bathroom or coat closet or even just a dark corner. Anywhere Andrew will allow.
The times when Andrew says no are simultaneously the best and the worst. The times when he knocks Neil’s hands away, twists out of his arms and makes him go out onto the floor for a couple of drinks and probably some super-samey conversations. And sure, he’ll always have a hand on Neil - resting on his hip, brushing against his thigh, curled around one wrist - but there are several places he could be putting his hands instead and he doesn’t. Neil hates him for it. Andrew knows exactly what he’s doing when he does it, and just because he knows when Neil really has had enough, it doesn’t mean that it’s not the best and worst kind of expectation.
It’s obvious when Andrew sees the guy Neil had spotted the second they’d got close to the bar. One of his eyebrows arches faintly and his hand on Neil’s tightens as he shifts forward in his seat. Neil steps a little closer between his legs, until Andrew is pressed up against his back, and leans to pick up his drink before he settles backwards into Andrew’s chest. Kevin Day hasn’t changed a bit since college. Tall, tanned, tattooed. Painfully handsome and with a look on his face like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. As if Andrew knows what Neil’s thinking, he shakes his head - Neil feels the motion as Andrew’s mouth brushes against his hair - and murmurs “don’t.”
Neil glances over his shoulder, scrutinises Andrew’s face for a moment to analyse how serious he is, then snorts and raises a hand to catch Kevin’s attention. Andrew pinches his hip harshly and swears at him, but Kevin’s already looking their way. Although the expression on his face doesn’t change when he recognises them, he does work his way through the press of people around the bar to reach them, and Neil’s mouth curls into a self-satisfied smile. Andrew doesn’t want to talk to Kevin, which means that he absolutely does and Andrew can just wait the way Neil normally has to.
“Long time no see,” Kevin greets them, a photo-ready smile playing at his lips. Neil can feel Andrew’s disdain for that stupid smile, it’s radiating off him. He reaches out to clasp the hand Kevin offers, his fingers brushing lightly against the inside of Kevin’s wrist and resting a second too long before he lets go and drains his glass. When he turns his head to put it down on the bar, Andrew’s tongue darts over the corner of his mouth to taste the alcohol that lingers on his lips. Kevin’s watching them - when Neil looks back at him, his smile has shifted into something a little different. It’s not a public smile, it’s knowing and simultaneously curious, and he knows exactly what Kevin’s interested in, because as Andrew shifts his weight slightly behind him Kevin’s gaze darts over to Andrew’s face. Neil would be offended if it weren’t for the fact that he absolutely does not blame Kevin. When Andrew comes off the stage, his sharp cheekbones shining with sweat and his eyes bright and sharp, it’s impossible not to stare. Not to want him.
When Kevin looks back at Neil, his pupils are a little dilated, and Andrew huffs his amusement into the back of his head. The three of them had been close at college, but it had always been Neil-and-Andrew and Kevin. Not that Andrew hadn’t once or twice discussed the idea of Neil-and-Andrew-and-Kevin to get Neil off that much quicker, but neither of them had ever talked about it outside of that. They hadn’t needed to. Andrew glances to the side to ask for three more drinks, and Neil leans forward to talk to Kevin, conscious of how Andrew’s hand tightens again.
“You saw the show, then?” he asks.
Kevin nods, leaning an elbow on the bar. “When did this start?” His voice is mildly amused, but his gaze is heavy on Neil’s. It makes him grin.
“Last year of school. You guys had graduated and I was bored, so. Guitar.” The shock of his life had been finding out that Andrew was really fucking good at bass. He remembers making a joke about clever fingers, and he remembers Andrew rolling his eyes disdainfully, then fingering him open until he’d come without a single touch to his dick.
That probably had something to do with why he was so fucking attracted to Andrew onstage. Pavlovian response or something.
“You guys are good,” Kevin tells him, leaning in as well to be heard over the music. Neil draws back just enough to watch Kevin’s gaze drop from his eyes to his half-open mouth, and his teeth catch very deliberately at his lower lip.
Andrew scoffs and then there’s a drink being pressed into his hand, and he passes it on to Kevin before Andrew gives him the next one with a whispered “settle down” into his ear. Kevin’s eyebrows twitch when Neil laughs, sliding a hand down Andrew’s thigh to rest on his knee, and he cocks his head faintly to the side.
“No one thought this would last, you know,” he tells Neil thoughtfully. Neil knows what he’s talking about, and it’s true. No one had expected him and Andrew to make it past Andrew’s graduation.
“It did.” It’s the first time Andrew’s spoken since Kevin showed up. His voice is low and rough and Neil has to work hard to suppress a shiver at the casual warning in it. As if Andrew hasn’t, multiple times, reminded Neil of the crush he’d had on Kevin at college. As if he hasn’t talked Neil through multiple orgasms while they watch Kevin lead the US Exy team to win after win. As if Neil hasn’t whispered his own fantasies about taking both of them into Andrew’s ear while he’s riding Andrew.
“What about you? Surely you’re, like, halfway married by now?”
Kevin looks unimpressed, shakes his head, but his eyes are dark when he slides a look towards Andrew. Neil takes advantage of the distraction to lean forwards again, tugging lightly at the collar of Kevin’s shirt to make him bend down because Kevin has a goddamn foot on him and even on tiptoes he can’t get anywhere near his ear. Andrew’s hand moves to his hip automatically, steadying him, and he presses back just a little bit just because he’s a brat and he can. “Any reason for that?”
He’s pushing it now, and he can tell by the way Kevin inhales sharply, sucking the air in through his teeth with a sharp hiss. Andrew’s grip tightens again, but all Kevin does is shake his head again. This time they’re close enough that Kevin’s cheek brushes against his own. His breath catches momentarily in his throat.
“No time.” It’s such a Kevin response that Neil laughs quietly, hand uncurling and sliding up Kevin’s chest to cup the side of his neck.
“Seems like a waste to me.”
He doesn’t have to look to know that Andrew is watching them both, his gaze laser-sharp, but unbelievably Kevin isn’t pulling back or saying anything. Warm breath drifts over his collarbone, exposed by the loose neck of his shirt, and then Kevin huffs, amused, and Neil thinks he looks up at Andrew. “Is this a game?”
Andrew snorts; a hand plucks at the back of Neil’s shirt until he lets go of Kevin and settles back into Andrew’s body again, tilting his head to the side to tuck it under Andrew’s jaw. His tolerance for alcohol has never been his strong point, and by now he’s two offensively strong drinks down. It’s rude that Andrew and Kevin aren’t as affected as he is, honestly. Not by the alcohol anyway, but he can feel the tension in Andrew’s fingers and see how dark Kevin’s eyes are, so there are other things at play here.
“Whatever you choose to do, I win,” Andrew tells him calmly. Neil laughs again and jabs an elbow into Andrew’s side.
“Shut up, drama queen. Kev, what are you doing tonight?”
It’s blunt and to the point, and Kevin blinks in surprise. He shoots Andrew a questioning look as he answers. “Nothing.”
It’s Andrew who answers. Neil’s too busy stealing Andrew’s drink now that his own is gone. “Come backstage with us.”
At least one of them remembers they shouldn’t really be doing this in public. Kevin’s a big name, and Neil and Andrew are… well, in this crowd, they are too. Kevin nods and drains his drink smoothly, and Andrew plucks his own glass from Neil’s hand to swallow what’s left in it. “Neil, yes or no?” As if Neil is going to say no to this. He nods quietly, and the smile he offers Kevin is small and dirty. He doesn’t miss the way Kevin shivers as Neil holds out a hand and Andrew slides out of his seat. He starts through the crowd, fingers laced between Kevin’s, while Andrew lingers to settle their tab.
The moment he and Kevin are through the staff-only door, Kevin’s hands are on his hips, and he tilts his chin up, rocks up onto his tiptoes as Kevin hunches to kiss him hungrily. He only vaguely registers his back hitting the wall before Kevin’s grip tightens and his feet leave the ground, legs wrapping instinctively around Kevin’s waist. The first indicator that Andrew has found them is a sharp exhale, and Neil breaks away from Kevin’s damp mouth to reach blindly past him for Andrew. The blonde appears at his side and he turns his head so Andrew can kiss him and lick the taste of Kevin off his lips; Kevin groans at the sight and he can feel the press of Kevin’s dick against the underside of his thigh when he wriggles.
Andrew makes a gesture Neil can’t see, but clearly Kevin sees and understands it, because he shifts away from the wall so that Neil has no choice but to tighten his legs around his slim waist. He follows Andrew and tries not to fall over as Neil works hard to distract him, peppering kisses over high cheekbones and down along the sharp line of his jaw, sliding his fingers through Kevin’s hair.
“Neil,” Andrew says sharply when Kevin swears for the third time, and Neil groans but stills, wrapping a strand of dark hair around his finger.
“You started this,” he argues, earning himself a glare.
“Bullshit I did. Just wait.”
Kevin ignores the two of them, exactly as he had done at college, just follows Andrew into the green room and seals his mouth onto the curve of Neil’s throat as he presses him into the closed door. Neil swears under his breath, rolling his head back and fisting his hands into Kevin’s hair, and Andrew plops into the beanbag opposite a sagging, kinda dirty couch that’s now the only place to sit, his knees sprawled apart and hands curled loosely on his thighs. Neil wants to suck his dick so bad it distracts him from the feeling of Kevin’s teeth on his neck.
“Andrew,” he moans helplessly, pulling Kevin’s hair so he can guide him into a kiss. Andrew clicks his tongue sympathetically, although Neil knows he’s anything but, and at the sound Kevin walks backwards until his calves hit the couch and he collapses into it. And now Neil’s in control, or at least more in control than Kevin is, and he readjusts until his legs are folded either side of Kevin’s thighs and he can roll his hips against Kevin’s. It’s good, but it’s not enough, and with a whine he climbs off Kevin and slithers onto the floor to kneel between Andrew’s legs. “Yes or no?” he asks quietly, taking a moment’s pause from thinking about how turned on he is to focus on how Andrew’s doing.
Andrew eyes him; whatever he must see in Neil’s face satisfies him, because he nods and says “yes,” and Neil unbuttons his jeans so quickly that his hands fumble multiple times. He hears the couch shift behind him, and then Andrew reaches out a hand and Kevin appears next to Neil as if drawn in just by Andrew looking for him. Andrew tilts his chin up - it’s a silent prompt that Kevin gets immediately (Neil forgot how well they understood each other, but god, it’s hot) and leans down to kiss him. For a second, Neil is distracted watching them, and then Andrew’s hips shift and he remembers why he’s on his knees. He tugs at Andrew’s jeans until he can free his cock and when he drags his tongue over the head it’s Kevin that hisses in response when Andrew almost certainly bites his lip. One of Andrew’s hands drops from Kevin’s face to curl into Neil’s hair, resting lightly, and they know each other so well by now that Neil knows it’s not to push him down but so that Andrew can pull him off if he needs to.
Neil’s gaze darts up to watch Andrew and Kevin kiss as he closes his mouth around Andrew’s dick and sucks it down. Andrew’s mouth falls open slackly, and Kevin sucks his lower lip into his mouth, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind his ear. His fingertips trail down the side of Andrew’s neck but Neil reaches up, closing his eyes as he swallows around Andrew, to catch hold of Kevin’s hand and slide it into his own hair instead. He doesn’t know exactly how Andrew wants to set up boundaries with Kevin, where he wants to draw lines, but right now he wants to focus on what he’s doing and he can’t if he’s thinking about that.
He blows Andrew until Andrew’s hips are twitching minutely and every breath he lets out into Kevin’s mouth is shaky, and then he pulls off with a wet noise and wipes spit off his chin. Andrew’s hand clenches meanly in his hair. He moans in response, and the sound comes out raw and croaky, prompting another jerk of Andrew’s hips. At some point, he notes, Andrew’s hand has slipped into Kevin’s jeans; Neil watches his wrist flick on every upstroke and he can imagine with perfect accuracy how good it feels. He wants to touch himself, but he knows Andrew won’t like it, so he curls his fingers around Andrew’s dick again and lets Andrew fuck up into the tight circle of his fist, pre-come and spit easing the way.
“Andrew,” he murmurs eventually, pleading. He’s rock-hard and aching, and Andrew’s balls are drawing up close to his body and fuck, Neil wants to do everything with both of them and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. Kevin pulls away from Andrew’s mouth reluctantly, licks his lips to break the spit that connects them, and glances down at Neil. Or he would have looked at Neil, only his eyes get stuck on Andrew’s cock and he stares, openmouthed. Neil preens under the attention even though it’s not his dick, lowering his head to drag the flat of his tongue up the vein along the underside. Kevin swallows dryly. Andrew snorts and pinches Kevin’s nipple, then looks down at Neil. If his eyes weren’t so dark, lips kiss-swollen and parted, he would manage to pass off indifference.
Andrew’s hand doesn’t slow, even though Kevin is trembling minutely now, panting quietly as he tips his head back and closes his eyes.
“Andrew,” Neil says again, cutting a glance down towards Andrew’s hand and scowling. The blonde snorts, squeezes just to make Kevin moan desperately, then slips his hand out and gestures to Neil.
“Jeans.” Neil has never moved so fast in his life. His shirt stays on, because Kevin’s there and even though he has exactly one brain cell left it’s the one that’s telling him he doesn’t want Kevin to see his scars, but he peels his jeans off and throws them to the side. Kevin leans over Andrew, a hand on the back of Neil’s neck to pull him into a filthy kiss, licking into his mouth to taste Andrew’s skin on his tongue.
Andrew’s hand slides up Neil’s side, under his shirt, to graze his nails over Neil’s nipple, and his hips jump in shock. “You wanna suck Kevin off?” Andrew asks him, as cool and detached as if he were asking about their dinner plans even as Neil whines into Kevin’s mouth and nods. “Want me to watch?”
Neil shakes his head, breaks away and lets Kevin latch onto his throat, all teeth and tongue, as he looks over and reaches out to cup Andrew’s cheek gently. “Finger me,” he says as calmly as he can. Andrew’s eyelids flutter and he swallows, and Neil is so smug that it must be radiating off him because that reaction is golden.
Andrew’s gaze slides over to Kevin and the beautiful bruise Neil can already feel throbbing under his skin, and he snaps his fingers to get Kevin’s attention. Kevin flips him off, but raises his head anyway, and Neil leans forward to kiss him before Andrew can say anything. Then Andrew slaps the outside of his thigh. He moans, his hips roll, and he digs his nails into Kevin’s scalp. In response Kevin bites him. Again, Andrew snaps his fingers, but this time Neil lets him direct Kevin to the couch, grinding the heel of his hand into his hard-on as he watches Kevin peel his shirt off and tug his jeans down to free his own dick. Kevin’s obsession with Exy has translated nicely into hard, lean muscle and solid arms, and he knows Andrew is staring the same way he is as Kevin wraps his fingers around his dick and tugs it a couple of times. The difference is that by the time Neil recovers, Andrew is already pulling him into a kiss, and Neil rocks back so that Andrew has to get out of the fucking beanbag and press him down into the floor. He can hear Kevin jerking himself off, but when Andrew’s tongue is in his mouth, when his legs are wrapped around Andrew’s waist and they’re grinding together, it takes both of them a long time to remember what the plan is.
As one, they separate, and glance up at Kevin, whose eyes are dark as he watches them. Neil’s mouth twists into a smug smirk that he sees reflected on Andrew’s, and then they’re moving so naturally that it probably looks practiced. Neil rolls up onto his knees between Kevin’s legs and shoves his hand away to replace it with his mouth because goddamn it, he’s been thinking about blowing Kevin Day since freshman year and the fact that he has Andrew behind him slicking up his own fingers with the lube that obviously he keeps in his backpack - they’d learned the hard way to always be prepared - does nothing to calm him down.
Kevin groans as he hollows his cheeks, hand curling into his hair, and he whines in response because Andrew chooses that exact moment to slide a finger into him, slow and smooth. He loves Andrew’s hands; they’re big, his knuckles stick out and his fingertips are calloused from the bass. He loves watching Andrew play, because his fingers, all jokes aside, are clever, and they trip over the strings like it’s no effort at all. He loves having Andrew’s hands on him, fingers in his mouth, wrapped around his cock, smoothing down his spine as Andrew fucks him. He’s fucking obsessed with everything Andrew does, but his favourite is always when Andrew is stretching him open and taking his time.
“He watches your games,” Andrew says almost conversationally. Neil can picture the small line between his eyebrows as he works his finger in and out of him. His back arches; he moans when Andrew curls it upwards and presses. Above him Kevin wipes red hair out of Neil’s face and presses gently on the back of his head. He knows Andrew’s given him the nod to do that, so in response he opens his throat and lets Kevin ease his head down until his nose is buried in black curls at the base of his dick. “He thinks about taking both of us together, don’t you?”
Neil nods and swallows as best he can. Kevin’s hand lightens up so he can pull off and take a few gasping breaths, pumping the base of his cock a couple of times before he sucks him back down. And Andrew, fucking Andrew just keeps talking, presses a second finger in when he knows Neil can handle it, twists them cleverly to make him whimper. “He always wanted to fuck you. Fuck knows why, you’re a colossal asshole, but then his taste sucks anyway.”
“Shut up, Andrew, the self-deprecation was never cute,” Kevin answers before Neil can do more than take an indignant breath in through his nose. “Fuck, I’ll argue with him for you, Josten. Just don’t stop.”
Neil’s a gentleman, so he doesn’t stop. Andrew is not a gentleman, so he curls his fingers again and makes Neil’s hips roll as he presses back into those fingers, desperate for more. Andrew’s other hand slides around to his dick, and even though now he’s torn between rocking forwards or backwards, it’s so good he could cry. “Never said my taste was any better,” Andrew counters, twisting his wrist at the head of Neil’s cock and rubbing his thumb over the leaking slit as he adds one more finger. “I would’ve sucked you off in a heartbeat too.” It’s a big admission, to a lot more than just being horny, and both Neil and Kevin know that. Kevin’s dick twitches in his mouth; Neil wraps his hand around the base so he can stroke him off and focus the suction of his mouth at the head.
Kevin’s back arches and Neil cradles his balls, feeling them tighten and Kevin pull at his hair in warning. He pushes his head back down and sucks again, and Kevin lets out a moan like he’s been punched in the chest as hot, bitter come shoots over Neil’s tongue, down his throat. Andrew makes a quiet noise. Neil knows he’s watching Kevin’s face when he comes. He wants to do the same, but he’s way too focused on not coming as well and he thinks that might tip him over the edge. It’s only what feels like five minutes later, when Kevin’s cock is no longer twitching on his tongue and Kevin pulls at his hair again that he draws back with one final swallow. He rests his cheek on Kevin’s thigh and gasps helplessly for breath, because fucking Andrew has redoubled his movements and Neil’s whole body is overheating from the stimulation.
“Andrew, stop, I want - fuck - I want you to fuck me.” And he watches Kevin’s face as he says it, sees a moment of uncertainty when Kevin clearly wonders if he should leave.
“Stay,” Andrew says to Kevin, as if Neil hadn’t spoken. But he withdraws his fingers, squeezes the base of Neil’s cock until the orgasm that had been building has well and truly retreated again, leaving him shaking and frustrated, all the more so when he looks up and sees how goddamn blissed out Kevin looks.
He’s about to complain about the unfairness of Andrew edging him when he’s done nothing but obey him, and then there are big hands on his hips and Andrew slides into him and punches the air from his lungs. It aches, he bites his lip hard and breathes through his nose, but Andrew just sits there with his hips pressed against Neil’s ass and waits until Neil nods, because he knows exactly what Neil needs him to do. Kevin’s fingers comb through Neil’s hair and he offers Neil a rare genuine smile as he cups his face and leans down to kiss him softly. When he straightens back up, that’s when Andrew pulls Neil back until Neil is sitting in his lap, legs folded either side of Andrew’s, both of them kneeling on the floor. He feels Andrew breathe into the crook of his neck, feels the stretch in his thighs and the tight grip Andrew has on his hips, feels how full he is. It’s all so fucking overwhelming that he has to just sit with it and breathe for a second. Andrew lets him.
It’s Neil who moves first, reaching backwards to curl his hand into Andrew’s hair and letting his head loll back against Andrew’s shoulder as he circles his hips. His thighs twitch and tense as he lifts himself almost completely off, then lets himself drop back into Andrew’s lap, and Andrew exhales sharply against his skin. Emboldened, he does it again, riding Andrew with fluid rolls of his hips and his fingers twisted loosely in blonde hair as Andrew bites one of the tendons in his neck. Kevin is watching them, Neil can feel it, and he arches his back just to show off for him, pinching at his nipple with a moan that Andrew echoes with a hiss. It doesn’t take long before he’s riding that edge again, his stomach twisting pleasantly as he drops a hand to jerk himself off. Andrew doesn’t even protest; he’s breathing harshly into Neil’s shoulder, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach as he fucks up into him and makes Neil cry out harshly. Andrew presses his hand over Neil’s mouth and Neil twists his tongue between Andrew’s fingers, sucking at them as his hips stutter to a stop, Andrew slides home at a particularly good angle, and he shoots across his own belly with a muffled cry of Andrew’s name. His eyes roll back into his head and he’s only dimly aware, when his dick stops twitching, of Andrew thrusting into him once, twice, three times, then stilling. He can feel Andrew shaking. He can feel Andrew coming. He kind of regrets not remembering a condom, because now he’s going to be leaking, but he doesn’t care, simply because it’s so fucking hot that Kevin is still watching them and he can hear the wet slaps of Kevin’s hand on his own cock as he jerks himself off again.
Andrew’s hand drops to scoop up some of the mess off Neil’s skin, and he pushes his dirty fingers back into Neil’s mouth. Neil moans helplessly and sucks until he can only taste Andrew’s skin again, slumped back into his warm chest, and he feels Andrew’s voice rumble through both of them as he speaks to Kevin again. “Look at him, Kevin. Look how hard he got just from blowing you. That was you, Day, you did that.” Kevin throws his head back and groans, and his hips stutter as he comes again, clutching at the couch with his teeth clenched.
Something drips out of Neil, and with a grimace Andrew shifts. They both shudder when his soft dick slips free, but now they can uncurl their legs, and Neil sits between Andrew’s, leaning against him, and kicks one foot up onto Kevin’s thigh. Kevin is too boneless to push him away, but he does flip him off and Neil laughs tiredly.
For a couple of minutes, they just breathe. The room is humid and stinks of sweat and sex, and the only sound (thank fuck) is their own panting and the muffled bass of the music in the bar. Neil wriggles, then pulls a face. “Andrew. The floor.” Andrew grunts, displeased, and Neil pushes at the arm over his stomach. “Andrew. My ass is cold.”
“Then fucking freeze,” Andrew answers, but his arm retreats so Neil can get to his feet, knees weak and legs shaking. He leans against the wall to redress, leaving his jeans unbuttoned. By the time he plops onto the couch next to Kevin, Andrew has tucked himself back into his own jeans, and he sits next to Neil, draping an arm across the back of the couch to curl his fingers into Kevin’s hair. Kevin hums quietly, rolling his head to the side, and blinks at Neil’s shit-eating grin.
“Fuck off,” Kevin says.
Neil laughs as he readjusts, wriggling back into Andrew and throwing his legs across Kevin’s lap. “Die mad.”
Kevin pinches his thigh and Andrew slaps Kevin around the head in return. Neil twists to press a kiss and a light scrape of teeth to the underside of Andrew’s jaw, then leans his head against Andrew’s chest and listens to him breathe as Kevin’s fingers rub light circles into his ankle.
Sure, he loves being on stage, but backstage is where the most fun happens.