Games We Play

A New Favorite

......."God, you're beautiful."......

The words fall from Rye's mouth before he can catch them, surprising himself. He means them, he just hadn't meant to say them out loud.

Andy is beautiful. He's always known that about his friend, but from where he is currently sat, kneeling at Andy's feet, Rye has an entirely new perspective on the subject, and it's a tad overwhelming at the moment, to be fair.

He hazards a glance up to catch Andy's reaction to the admission and finds him staring back at him, his mouth gaping open, eyes full of emotion. Don't cry. Please don't cry.

If Andy was to get emotional now, this roller coaster ride they're on would come to a screeching halt. And even if he doesn't exactly know where this is going, Rye isn't ready to put the brakes on just yet.

He leans up, and taking Andy's face in his hands, kisses him firmly.

He feels Andy mirror the action; his fingers painting paths across Rye's cheeks and neck, winding their way up into Rye's hair. A slight tug there coaxes Rye to open his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Within the space of a heartbeat, Andy is off the bed and seated precariously in Rye's lap with his arms around Rye's neck. Rye wraps an arm around Andy's middle to support him. The move brings them chest to chest, skin to skin. It's a sensation so intimate that it immediately causes the heat to rise unexpectedly in Rye's face.

Andy breaks off the kiss abruptly and leans back, breathless. His eyes dance with mischief, his mouth twisting into a devilish smirk before bending back down.

He flicks his tongue playfully against the edge of Rye's bottom lip and then dares to take it between his teeth, tugging gently.

Rye can't control the little moan that falls from his lips any more than he can stop the rush of blood to his groin. He reaches between them to hastily adjust his growing desire.

He doesn't need to look up to feel the triumph radiating in waves off of Andy. It spurs his own need for a victory.

Rye wraps his hands around the backs of Andy's thighs and in one fluid movement, hauls himself - and Andy with him - up off the floor. The blonde squeaks in surprise, instinctively wrapping his arms and legs around Rye's shoulders and waist for support.

Rye spins a complete circle, considering his options quickly and deposits Andy back onto Harvey's bed, following him down, going in immediately for another kiss.

The bed, it seems - and Harvey will murder Rye in his sleep if/when he ever finds out - is the perfect height. And both boys bite back filthy groans when Rye experimentally grinds down against Andy.

Rye slides an arm around Andy's waist, adjusting his hips for leverage. This time when he rocks forward, the angle is so sweet, Rye nearly falls on his face.

"Fuck," Andy pants beneath him, his warm mouth leaving moist stains on Rye's sun-kissed skin. He licks and nips at every centimeter of skin he can reach, while his hands work their way down Rye's back, pulling him ever closer.

There's a strong frisson of excitement like electricity that runs down Rye's spine when Andy's fingers dip below the elastic waistband of his pants. His palms on Rye's ass, drive Rye on; his thrusts, long, slow and dirty. Both boys groan, Andy's voice breaking high.

It feels amazing, just the proper amount of friction to get really worked up, but not enough to get over.

"Not enough," Rye blurts out to the room and backs off.

Andy comes off the mattress, trying to debate, but Rye stops him with a hand.

Rye runs his hand down the center of Andy's chest, pressing him down into the mattress and chasing his midline down through his torso. He slows to a stop, unsure when he passes Andy's navel.

When Rye glances up, Andy is craning his neck to watch his progress; his eyes are dark with anticipation, his breath caught in his throat, and beneath Rye's hand, the muscles jump as if seeking a steadier touch.

Maintaining eye contact, Rye slowly lowers his mouth to Andy's stomach, and even though he is watching, Andy startles at the new sensation. Rye moves his hands to cover Andy's narrow hips, holding him firmly in place while he explores this new aspect of him.

He breathes him in, and his nostrils are filled with a fragrance that is a subtle blend of body soap, laundry detergent, and something deeper. Something unapologetic and smells of arousal. Does arousal have a scent? Rye can't be sure, but on a whole, it is something that is so intrinsically Andy, and yet different in a way that Rye can't possibly put into words. And it may just be Rye's new favorite thing in the world.

It's not enough to take in his scent, Rye wants to taste. He opens his mouth and runs his tongue flat and heavy along the gentle slope of Andy's lower abdomen, swirling the tip down into his belly button and giving the edge a sharp flick.

Andy's head falls back between his shoulders and he moans, low and deep; the sound vibrating through Rye like a sex-amped tuning fork.

No, Rye realizes. He's wrong. This – THIS – is his new favorite thing.

It's intoxicating, really, this feeling of power, knowing that every reaction he pulls from Andy is as a direct result of something he's done.

Rye continues to kiss and mouth down Andy's belly, reveling in the way he arches up into his touch. Loves when Andy bucks up and brings Rye's attention back to the reason they're in this situation.

He's anxious, but Rye pushes his nerves aside and reaches for Andy's jeans.

"Rye. Rye, wait." Andy sits up abruptly. His hands close over Rye's, stopping his progress.

Rye straightens. Standing between Andy's knees, he moves his hands to Andy's thighs, a thumb tracing the frayed denim there. "You want me to stop?"

"Yes." It's a shaky answer followed immediately by, "No."

Rye can't hide the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. He loves seeing Andy flustered. It's endlessly endearing.

"I don't know...maybe?" Andy continues, nearly stuttering. "I mean, do you want to keep going?"

It's reassuring, somehow, the slightly distressed edge to Andy's voice. And Rye is just glad he's not the only one nervous in this situation.

To Rye's knowledge, neither of them have ever gone down this road. With girls, of course, but never with - you know - a bro. And that should bother him, right? But it doesn't. Because it's not just some dude. It's Fovvs. Somehow, everything is just different when it comes to him.

Rye leans in and taking Andy's face in his hands, looks into his eyes, trying so hard to convey his own certainty. "What do you want?"

The high arch in Andy's eyebrow softens and he lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. "I, um...I just want you."

Rye breaks out into a wide smile.

"Right, then." 

AN: Thanks for reading. I hoping you're enjoying so far and if you are, drop a vote for the chapters you really like. And if you love, leave me a cheeky little comment. I absolutely love hearing your thoughts. 

I'd love to be able to tell you that Chapter 7 is coming tomorrow,  but I can't.  It won't be until next week, but I promise, it only gets steadier from here.  Until then!