OH MY GOD IM FINALLY AWARE OF THE FACT ITS WEDNESDAY!! hi aerie i hope u are doing well (aside from the knee pain. which ik is always a horrible experience) can i request some guardian angel neil or arson neil smile :)
WIP Wednesday (3/26) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 292)
"No, I decided to forge the names of three men I hang out with on occasion. Yes, of course they're real. Jeremy insisted when I told him how crazy you were over their team. He made his—" Andrew cuts off suddenly to keep from outing Kevin's relationship. "He made the others sign it when I had lunch with them the other day."
"So he's actually like that? The happy, super-friendly thing isn't an act?"
"Jeremy is one of the kindest and most annoying people I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. He is an anomaly. I don't understand how Kevin or Jean put up with him." Andrew tells him honestly. A pair of grumpy asshole ex-Ravens and Captain Sunshine. Of course, Jeremy has his own various issues but he always seems to shove them down to make room for other peoples'. He is an idiot. A loveable one, but still.
10 looks back down at the card and traces the swoops of Jeremy's signature with his fingernail. "Andrew, this is too good. I can't... I don't have anything for you that's worth this."
Andrew stares at him, awaiting an explanation. Then he realizes this is sort of violating the give and get, something-for-something deal they've got going. He's already told 10 that it was from Jeremy, he is not going to repeat himself. 10 is just going to have to deal—
"I think you do," Andrew says after a moment of consideration. 10 raises his gaze back to meet Andrew's, a question in his eyes. "Tell me your name," Andrew breathes. In an instant, the arsonist's expression switches from awed to blank. Locked up tight. Fuck.
"You can. That is what I want."
"I can't refer to you as a number forever, not if we're doing this," Andrew says, gesturing between them. "I'm not going to hurt you with it. Tell me."
10 sits there, frozen in thought long enough Andrew worries he's broken him. Then finally he swallows hard and chews the inside of his cheek. "Is my middle name alright? It's what my mom always used to call me, no matter who we were. It's the closest thing I can give you."
"You don't trust me with the real thing."
"I can't trust anyone with the real thing. It's the last name I'm ever going to have and I have to keep it forever. The FBI made sure to hammer that home before they turned me loose. I can't... You'll figure everything out."
"My father, the... All of it. I can't." 10 says, a war taking place on his face. Andrew can tell 10 wants him to know. He's afraid of a dead man. Or of Andrew's reaction to whose blood runs through his veins.
"Middle name it is. Give it."
10 lets out a long breath and it fogs up the space between them before he says, "Abram."
"Abram." Andrew repeats. The other boy's breathing hitches.
"That's the first time anyone's called me that in years."
"I guess I'll have to make up for lost time then, Abram. Put the card down so I can kiss you." The words are barely out of his mouth before Abram is tossing the card off to the side like it's garbage. Andrew slings a leg over Abram's lap, watching his pupils eat up the blue of his eyes. "I’m going to put you on your back, yes?"
"Yes." Abram sighs out. When Andrew plants a hand on his chest and shoves him back onto the blanket under him, he lets out a groan. "Fuck, yes. Andrew, god I want—" Andrew cuts him off by mashing their mouths together. Looming over this man is the single greatest thrill of his life, he can't listen to Abram's wish list right now or he might combust and take the whole barn down with him.
Abram meets him eagerly and they kiss and kiss and kiss until their lips are sore. Until Andrew's knees hurt from the position he's holding. Until he's rock hard and Abram seems to be even worse off, squirming under him and squeezing Andrew's shoulders tight enough to bruise. It's dizzying, but he’s quite sure neither of them is quite ready for more than this. Pulling away, Andrew sits back on his knees and leaves Abram panting under him.
"God, Andrew. You..." His chest is heaving and he looks fucked out. Like they've gone much farther than they have. "You're so. I can't." He tilts his head back and swallows. Andrew watches his throat move, enraptured, and lets out a huff. If Abram can't form a sentence, Andrew will give him a moment. He climbs off his lap and lies down next to him, on his side with an arm under his head. Abram rolls onto his side and they stare at each other, content to breathe each other's breath until Andrew starts to nod off.