Tagged by my dearest @swifty-fox pls take this offering of unedited AndyEddie foot stuff
He takes Andy’s foot from its place against his chest, still grinning, and brings it to his mouth. His eyes are like hot irons, bright and deep like lake water, and he doesn’t look away as he gives a kiss to Andy’s heel.
A twitch rocks through him in response, his foot pulls away but Eddie’s grip on his ankle is solid and he pulls it right back. This time his lips land on the center of his sole, wetter than before, a slow, dragging kiss that sucks another gasp from Andy’s mouth.
Dry lungs, damp skin, Andy mumbles, “Eds”—
A third kiss, further inside, open, with a scrape of teeth and so full of startling sensation—Andy wonders if Eddie knows how to bring this out of every part of his body, if he can play pleasure from just his goddamn feet—again, an open kiss, now to the ball of his foot.
“Eddie,” Andy’s voice is trembling, his chest is tight. He feels dangerously close to some sort of precipice, turning a corner blind.
And Eddie just laughs, like he knows, like he’s glad, his cool breath making Andy shiver, and slips his tongue between Andy’s first and second toe.
“Oh!” Andy can’t help the way his eyes roll back as they flutter closed. He can’t help the way his whole body flexes, the way his cock twitches between his thighs. “Wait!”
Eddie, dearest, with his smart fucking mouth, pulls back an inch to smirk at him. Andy sighs in relief. The precipice drifts away.
“Another time, then.”
Taggingggg @itstheheebiejeebies @sidleckie @ww2yaoi and anyone who wants an excuse to make yourself write! 💚
Aaahh! Hello, friend! Sorry this took me ten years to reply to! 💚_💚
🏴☠️ Were there any points in which your characters tried (or succeeded) to commit mutiny against your planned plot? Where did they most want to rebel?
I think I’m rather lucky this time that this story is based on one that is already completely written and, while not exactly the same, I have a pretty good idea of the beats that need to be followed. so even tho it’s taking me forever, I’ve got Eddie and Andy on pretty short leashes here. In the prev ask I answered for this ask game, I mentioned that Eddie reallyyy wants to fuck Andy at this point and that’s been the hardest to avoid. I mean, they’re fucking soon rest assured, I don’t have good enough reason to keep them apart for much longer, but if Eddie had his way he would’ve sucked Andy’s dick like, the first night he showed up.
🔎 What detail(s) in the story are you particularly captivated with? Is there any behind the scenes info or backstory?
I answered this in the prev post, but I’ll just say again it’s family dynamics and sibling relationships. Some of the most powerful shit in the world imo. There’s so much background stuff going on, esp with Eddie’s family being so big and mostly under the same roof. And a lot of the backstory I’ve developed is Andy being repressed as hell. Never really occurred to him that he could like dudes 🤦🏻♂️
💭 If you could wish into creation a transformative piece for your story, made by a real human who isn’t you, what would it be? Art, video, sequel, podfic, etc.
Bro, anything would make my whole life! I would be so honored if anyone made something for this work. Critically, there is a piece of art out there that I have saved by @coldarena from when I first posted about this fic. I think about it everyday. I’ll reblog this with in when I’m on my phone
HAPPY LAST DAY OF PRIDE, HERE’S A CHAP 7 SNEAK PEEK
(I feel bad for taking forever, sorrrrry about it.)
💚💚💚💚💚
In October the Red Sox and the Cardinals meet in the World Series and, by some miracle, Bill Haldane wins two tickets to Game Five in a raffle. Two days later, by some other, greater miracle, Evelyn Haldane gives birth to their first child, a son. He’s healthy and pink and covered all over in a fine, fuzzy layer of hair that the nurses say will molt within a week or so. He’s perfect. And his parents let Andy hold him and kiss his little head. Andy’s never held a newborn before, couldn’t quite imagine how small he would be, or how fragile.
They tell him they’ve named him Daniel Allison Andrew.
Andy’s eyes start to sting.
“That’s too many names,” he jokes through a thickness in his throat, “makes him sound like a Southerner.” He kisses Daniel’s head again. Then once more.
Evelyn laughs brightly, then clutches at her middle with a hard wince. It seems she can only escape her pain for moments at a time and Bill keeps leaning over her at the head of the hospital bed to plant little kisses in her hair. Every time she goes rigid or makes some small noise, it’s like he can’t help but cling to her. It’s quite sweet, Andy thinks. He tries not to look at them for very long.
Hands on Evelyn’s shoulders now, Bill shrugs at Andy’s teasing, says, “We figured if you wanted to name a son after yourself, you still could.”
Andy looks up at him sharply but Bill is gazing again at his wife, He looks so enamored with her—hair a mess, no makeup on—and Andy can’t bring himself to take his attention. A son. He looks down at his nephew, small enough to fit in the crook of his arm, button nose, and fair, fair eyelashes. The taste of acid floods Andy’s mouth.
And Bill—when Andy looks up, he finds his brother has never looked younger to him. The shade of stubble on his cheeks is a disguise; he’s a kid in a costume, and yet Andy is realizing he’ll never catch up to him. Andy knows he’ll never marry, knows he’ll never have a son. He doesn’t know how he knows but he does. He thinks maybe his life ended a long time ago.
“What color are his eyes?” he asks; although, he doesn’t know why. He and Bill have the same light, stormy blue. Evelyn’s are brown. And he suddenly wonders if it matters, if he needs to see something of himself in Daniel in order to love him.
Evelyn answers, “He’s barely had them open but they’re gray. I like to think they might lighten up to match Bill’s.”
Andy suddenly feels nauseated. Bloated.
He swallows and asks Bill, “How were Mom and Dad when they saw him?” Again, he doesn’t know why he asks it. He realizes he doesn’t want to know.
“Oh, they were over the moon.” Bill smiles, “I’m surprised we were able to get them out of here before noon. We slept a few hours before you got here.”
“Good,” Andy says, “that’s good.” Not that he knows what is, or why. He’s beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
Daniel unsettles, nose scrunching, mouth puckering, not quite ready to cry but certainly thinking about it. He squirms in Andy’s arms—well, as much as he can swaddled tight as he is—and Bill takes him in both hands with an ease that looks practiced even though it can’t be. It can’t be, and something about Bill’s shoulders, the way they round down to make his arms a cradle, makes Andy’s heart kick into double time. The back of his neck blazes up to his ears. Spit is pooling in his mouth.
Standing, he says, “I’ll let you”—stops. Swallows. “I’ll let you rest. What did, uh—did Mom and Dad say they were headed home?”
Bill shrugs. “I assume so. They didn’t say.”
Andy nods. He collects his jacket and hat from where they’d camped on an empty chair and leans over to kiss Bill’s cheek, “It’s fine. I’ll see them when I see them.” He steps forward to kiss Evelyn, too. “Congratulations again, he’s beautiful. Looks just like his mother.” He winks.
She chuckles and pushes at him good-naturedly. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“Of course,” Andy ducks back, finds Daniel in his brother’s arms and lays a hand on his round, red cheek, “and, y’know, anything you three need, name it, I’ll be there.”
Just know that if I physically could give you that many sentences, I would. <3
Stepping into the shower, he finds Eddie scrubbing down with the same efficiency he practiced while bathing on Pavuvu, just a bar of soap and his bare hands. He squints at Andy from behind dripping eyelashes and and runs a hand back through his flattened curls. Then he smiles.
“C’mere,” he says when Andy is close enough to grab and pull flush. One hand slips and squeezes along Andy’s hip, then down over his ass as he kisses him.
Tagged by @swifty-fox on Easter (lol I am so slow with this shit I’m sorry)
Andy nods because words feel a little beyond him and Eddie walks them to the bed closest to the door, kissing Andy all the while. When he sits, Andy finds it as natural as anything to crawl into his lap. His knees dig into the springs of the mattress and the thick fabric of their trousers slip against one another with a satisfying friction. Eddie hums, strong and happy, and lets his hands run the plane of Andy’s back, down the rungs of his ribs and across his hips until he reaches the curve of his ass. He holds him there, gives him a squeeze. Andy’s head feels light.
He doesn’t know the words to say—only, that’s not true—he knows exactly the words, just can’t get them out of his mouth. He knows what he wants and he thinks it might kill him to ask, so instead he nips at Eddie’s neck, blazes a spit-slick trail from ear to collar and slips from Eddie’s lap to kneel on the floor.
Tagging: @corrosivesaints @ww2yaoi @sidleckie @itstheheebiejeebies @meyerlansky @saturnwisteria and whoever wants to participate! 💚
i was intrigued by so many of your fics! but i’m gonna have to go with a personal bias and say ✨ ✨ ✨ :)
Thank you for being patient while I cook these up. I love writing but it doesn’t love me back.
“I can’t ask you to pay for that”—
“Please. I want to take you. I miss you.”
There’s a long pause. The operator interrupts to ask for another dime and as the connection shudders and reframes, Eddie is there, saying, “Okay, Andy.”
