Andrew was bad at patience, especially when, for the longest time, it'd felt like death was closer than he would have liked. Making it through his twenty-third birthday had soothed some of his worries, but some of the related anxiety still lingered. But he was trying, he was trying to ease them both into things, to not leap into too much too fast. They would have time, and Edward meant a lot to him, and that was another reason patience could be difficult; he'd never quite felt this way about anyone before, had never experienced this level of attraction.
Pausing to look was equal parts admiration and an attempt to plan his course of action. Except he had no idea what that plan should be, and he was just going to be winging it the entire time. It was easier to be a bit less nervous about the whole 'winging it' part with Edward's hands in his hair, a welcome distraction that sent a noticeable shiver through him.
He nearly melted, right then and there, when Edward pulled on his hair, the sound he made leading Andrew to brace himself with a hand on the mattress beside Edward's hip as heat flared in his core. His other hand, he curled around his cock for a different sort of stability. And so he didn't accidentally push himself; he didn't have any concept of what his gag reflex would be like with this. He went slow, even as he groaned again. Slow suction, another slow swirl of his tongue. For all of his eagerness, he didn't want to rush this; he wanted it to be good.
Edward notices that heat in Andrew's core; his vibrations sparkle harder, throwing off bits of light like crystals hung in a sunny window. Before he can catch himself, he reaches down with one hand, as if he could touch them. He can't, of course; they dissipate and run their course around his fingers, and Edward strokes his hand up the length of Andrew's spine, his fingertips ghosting along the edges of Andrew's scar.
For all that Andrew doesn't want to rush things, Edward isn't going to last very long. It feels like his nerves are on fire, every one of them attuned to the warmth of Andrew's mouth, the velvet swipe of his tongue. Even the sensation of his hand on him, the first hand to touch him there besides his own, is overwhelming, making Edward's mind swim. He melts back into the narrow bed, completely at Andrew's mercy.
"I'm close, love." Edward breathes the words up to the ceiling, and they come out as red mist in the vibrations, twining and dancing around each other as they ascend. "I'm so close..."
Oh. Andrew always forgot about his scar, especially here when he had even fewer mirrors to get a random glance of it at random times. People didn't usually touch it; he was used to people avoiding it. And Edward's touch might have been light and fleeting, but Andrew still felt it, and it was... it felt like acceptance, of all of him, on top of the sensation of touching his scar. It wasn't bad, he just didn't know how to put it into words, what the physical part felt like.
He pulled back a fraction, just for a second, for a low gasp or inhale, before trying to push into Edward's hand. Then he lowered his mouth back to Edward's cock, carefully taking him a little deeper in his mouth, working on figuring out where his gag reflex might begin, so he wouldn't choke himself. The answer to that question was 'not here, not yet', so he settled in comfortably again, adding a slow stroke of his hand, a twist of his wrist.
The sound of Edward's voice sent a little shiver through Andrew, made him both want to hurry and want to take his time. He opted for keeping on, steady and determined, his focus bouncing between what he was doing and Edward's reactions, taking note of things as best he could when he felt like he could melt at any moment, his brain two steps away from fizzing into all sensation, no thought.
Now that is an interesting reaction. Edward has grown much less sensitive about the scars on his face, in the time he's been in Revan--it helps that he doesn't have to see them, and that having them seems far less of an issue here than it did at home--but he never forgets that they're there because of something awful and traumatic. He'd assumed the same for Andrew and his scar, hence the hesitancy in touching it. But then Andrew pushes up into his hand, and Edward flattens it, stroking broadly down the length of Andrew's back. The scar really doesn't feel all that different from Andrew's unblemished skin, and even if it did, Edward wouldn't care. It's a part of Andrew, a piece of his history, and is therefore beautiful.
With that realisation, a tremendous weight drops off Edward's shoulders, and he gasps in a breath like a man who had been drowning but finally got his head above water. He isn't aware of it, but tears streak down his cheeks, coloured silver in the vibrations, and the glittering thing between his ribs balloons out.
Then Andrew bobs back down, his tongue moving just so, and Edward loses his battle with himself. His entire body shudders as he comes, his hands tightening in Andrew's hair, his nails raking up the length of his back. The vibrations explode, turning entirely deep red and washing out like a tidal wave, while the glittering thing in his torso spirals upwards before extending out like a geyser, tiny glittering bits falling over them both like snow.
He couldn't help the surge of emotion he experienced, the way his breath hitched for a moment when Edward stroked his hand down his back. The cavern might have resurfaced recently in his dreams, before he'd had to navigate his way through a living skyscraper, but the cavern and his scar had always felt like separate things, after a certain point. He was self-conscious about his scar like he was self-conscious about a lot of things about himself. He worried about how people would react. But Edward had never reacted in any of the ways Andrew had worried he might.
At least Andrew's eyes were already closed, so when unexpected tears stung his eyes, it was easier to work them back. Until a very effective distraction happened, in the form of Edward coming, his hands in his hair and his nails raking along his back. His attention refocused instantly, tears momentarily forgotten about. He felt almost like he could come undone any moment himself, groaning low in his throat.
The vibrations were breath-taking enough that he nearly got wholly wrapped up in them as he swallowed, doing his best to make sure he wouldn't make a mess when he eventually lifted his head. When he did pull back, he didn't go far, resting his cheek on Edward's hip while he caught his breath, fingers uncurling from around his dick. Even then, he couldn't quite stay still, turning his head a bit to press a kiss to Edward's skin.
"Good?" he asked. There were multiple different ways he meant the question, but the one word was all he ended up with right now.
Edward is up near the ceiling, spinning in slow circles in the vibration's afterglow, when Andrew speaks up. It takes him a few lazy seconds to understand what he's said, and rather than answer, Edward tugs on his hair. Then, using his second pair of arms, he tries to drag Andrew up so he's on top of him, near his head and face again, then wrap all four arms around him.
Perhaps this is the day that the moon warp decides to bestow crazy insect strength on Edward. Or maybe Andrew just wants to be cooperative and come join him at the top of the bed.
Once he's within reach, Edward is going to pull Andrew into a slow, lazy, open-mouthed kiss. Does he care that Andrew just had a mouth full of jizz? No, no he does not. If anything, he's both curious and a little turned on at the salty taste on Andrew's tongue.
"Stellar." He murmurs the word into the kiss, as the vibrations start calming down. Some of the little glittery stars wink out, but the majority stay as the red fades away into the deep, warm teal again. It starts to look like they're cocooned in the night sky.
Andrew shivered, laughing soft and breathless, when Edward tugged on his hair, then the rest of him. He got the intention, and was quite cooperative, scooting and half-crawling his way up until he could curl against Edward, cozy and warm. He hadn't been expecting the kiss, but he didn't have any complaints with it, either. The possibility of Edward being bothered by the whole 'just had a mouth full of jizz' thing had been Andrew's concern, but if he wasn't bothered...well. He was just going to gently melt into the kiss with a quiet noise.
"Good." He nearly breathed the word, kissing Edward again after. The emotions that had surged just a few moments ago were still there, close to the surface, mingling in with everything else he felt. He didn't know how to put them into words, so he held the feelings close for now, turning them this way and that as he mulled them over.
"I guess winging it didn't go so bad." He grinned as he said it, warm and pleased. And if winging it had gone this well, imagine how much better it'd be as he learned and then put his new knowledge to use. He'd already made note of a few tidbits as it was.
His grin faded into something softer after a moment, while he appreciated the sight of the vibrations. "They're beautiful." His voice had dipped back down to a murmur. "And I made you feel that way."
"No." Edward smiles as Andrew settles in beside him, tucked up against his side. He is very sure he could sleep like this every night for the rest of their ride to Nirvana, and be a happy man. "I'd say winging it worked extremely well."
He plucks up one of Andrew's hands and starts playing with it, caressing it between two of his before bringing it to his lips and kissing Andrew's fingertips. "You'll have to let me try it, at some point."
Like right now, maybe? Give Edward a twenty minute breather and he's pretty sure he'd be up to trying it himself.
"You did." There is the faintest hitch in Edward's voice as he continues. "After meeting you, they started changing to colours. Not everyone, not everything, but familiar people and objects... they're in colour now. Because of you."
Well, that was a good boost to his confidence. He was going to tuck all of that away, where he could revisit this moment and the moments from a little earlier, whenever he liked. He felt so much lighter than before, happy and pleased, and knowing he'd be even happier tucked next to Edward at night.
And now, right now, he was acutely reminded of the heat under his skin, his erection trapped in his jeans. The reminder came two-fold, between Edward kissing his fingertips, and you'll have to let me try it, and for the span of a few breaths, Andrew forgot everything else he'd been thinking. "Yes. Yeah. I'd- I'd really like that." He'd stopped bothering with attempts at sounding casual; if he was interested, if he was enthusiastic (and he was), he wanted Edward to know and not have to try and guess. He deserved to know.
Hearing the little hitch in Edward's voice had Andrew's throat tightening for a second, the emotions all the best sort. "Usually, people say you light up their world, but I've brought color to yours." And maybe he'd done the other bit, too, but the colors were a definite. He didn't think he'd ever been that for anyone before.
"And you have, you know." He spoke up again after a moment, quiet but sincere. "Lit up my world."
When Edward is paying this much attention to the vibrations, there's no point in trying to be subtle or casual anyway. He noticed the way little ripples came out from around Andrew's hips, and a distant, faraway pulse of dark pink under the blue. He hasn't forgotten about Andrew's needs! Give him a moment or two and he'll be ready to take care of things.
"Did I? I'm glad." Edward sounds a little bemused at the concept; he doesn't think he's done anything near what Andrew has done for him, but he'll take the compliment regardless. He can't help thinking that Andrew's world must not have been that dark to begin with, if Edward was able to light it up.
Either way, he remembers how this started out, and he kisses Andrew's fingertips with more intention. "Will you help me, ah, wing it? For you?"
Once he gets past his initial nerves, he'll probably be fine, but he needs a little help getting started.
The slutty second left hand doesn't need that assistance. It wiggles down between them and cups the bulge in Andrew's jeans, giving it an appreciative squeeze.
That had also factored into Andrew's decision, the vibrations making things obvious. And honestly...he didn't want to play games, like being secretive about things. He might have been shit at communication at times--actually, that was exactly why he didn't want to play coy.
"You did." He could tell, from Edward's tone, that he was a bit unsure about that, or something along those lines. "I was in a bad place before we met."
He'd had some of his bleakest moments in the last few months before he'd met Edward. The days and weeks he'd spent not caring if he lived or died. The handful of times he'd wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. But now...there were so many things that made him glad to be alive, things he wanted to do. There would still be hard times, but he wasn't rock bottom, fumbling around alone in the dark anymore. He'd been tossed a lifeline, and he could see where he needed to go.
And he'd never felt so comfortable in his own skin before, either. The ghost stuff...well, he was working on that, still, but everything else? He felt like he finally knew who he was.
"But you've..." Andrew took a breath, gave himself a moment to sort his words. "You've made things better. And you've been good to me."
A shiver rolled down his spine, his thoughts scattering for a moment because yes, yes he would absolutely help Edward wing it. "Yeah, I'd be happy to help." For various reasons, but also because he knew what those nerves were like, and the difference a little guidance or encouragement or assistance could make.
Of course, there was always that one particular hand, which Andrew really got, in terms of the gremlin energy it seemed to possess. His breath hitched, and he exhaled on a low groan, shifting slightly to press into Edward's hand.
Edward can tell Andrew is sincere, both by the tone of his voice and the way his vibrations waver. For the first time, black streaks appear in them, dark and oily, as Andrew speaks about being in a bad place. He's never witnessed them before, but he knows what they are. He would recognise those feelings from a thousand yards away.
"I was as well, before I arrived here." Edward stops kissing Andrew's fingertips for a moment, and just holds his hand over his chest. "The reality of my situation was beginning to set in, and I was... trapped. I felt like an animal in a snare. I had two friends at the home where I was convalescing, and they were trying to help me, but there was just so much to learn, so fast, and I... I wasn't able to keep up. I didn't think I'd ever be able to keep up."
The black streaks start to bloom outwards, covering some of the stars in the vibrations.
"But then, I came here, and after a few months, I met you." The stars that had been covered by the black start glowing, becoming brighter, and they burn through the darkness, sending it shrinking back to wherever it came from. "And you, you... you accept me, with all my flaws and eccentricities, and you make me want to be better. For you."
Thank god for the gremlin left hand, or this could have gotten really emotional. Edward chuckles when Andrew groans, and he brings Andrew's hand back to his mouth. Tentatively, he takes two of his fingers into his mouth, curling his tongue around them and trying to imitate what Andrew had just done to his cock.
Trapped was a feeling Andrew was familiar with, though in different ways. He'd spent so many years running from his problems that when everything fell apart, when his running slowed down, it'd felt like what he'd been trying to escape from would eat him alive. A black void of a maw, ready and waiting to pull him back down into the cavern and everything it represented. He'd felt like he was existing on borrowed time, that whatever had happened to Eddie would happen to him.
But here... he still grappled with his anxiety, but everything didn't feel so much like it was going to eat him alive anymore. He had room to breathe, and it'd been so long since he'd felt like he could relax, really relax.
He couldn't begin to imagine how awful it had been for Edward to lose his vision, and then the moments that came afterward, trying to adjust when nothing would be the same again. He had a few theories, by this time, about what had happened to Edward's vision, but he wasn't going to ask. Dragging up those memories and making him talk about it wasn't something Andrew was in a hurry to do. He knew very well what it was like to not want to talk about certain things, and either way, it wasn't like he needed to know.
There was a lump in his throat again, and he wasn't quite sure when it'd returned, but he wasn't sure when his tears had returned, either, until one snaked down the side of his face. It was a slightly awkward combination of emotions, but he did his best to ignore that awkwardness--acknowledging it would only make it worse, he was sure--and instead gently tugged Edward's hand closer so he could kiss the back of it.
"I do. And you make me want to be better, too," he murmured, trying to sniffle subtly. Edward accepted him too, all of him--even the parts Andrew thought he'd always have to keep hidden from people--and that was something he hardly knew how to verbalize, for what it meant to him.
Fortunately, he didn't have to try and struggle with those words, his brain getting the memo that his body hadn't forgotten how wound tight he was. He was pretty sure, actually, that being emotional just made him want Edward more, made him crave more closeness, more intimacy. He watched, quiet and intent, interested, when Edward took his fingers into his mouth. Goosebumps spread over his skin and he exhaled in a rush, a soft affected noise followed by, "Oh."
Edward has only spoken about how he lost his eyes twice, both times to someone here in Revan. Back home, no one had asked, because they all knew exactly what a gas attack meant, and no further clarification was needed. Here, it has taken him being feverish and half-delirious from the loss of his leg to tell one person (Arcade), and trying to coax and soothe a frightened child to tell the other (Leo). He also assumes that Andrew has something of an idea of things that happened in WWI and has probably reached a fairly accurate conclusion on his own. Someday, he'll add Andrew to that list, and give him the full story.
But not today. Things are going too well and feeling too good to bring it up today.
Andrew's reaction to having his fingers in Edward's mouth is excellent, and Edward tries the tongue swirl again before lightly sucking on them. He's not sure he's getting quite the same enjoyment from this as Andrew does or is, but since Andrew likes it so much, he puts his all into it.
In the meantime, with four hands at his disposal and crazy spider strength that he is just starting to realise he has, Edward starts moving Andrew around, getting them both positioned. It's easy enough to flip Andrew onto his back and then climb on top of him, straddling him with one leg on either side of his hips. Then two hands get to work on his belt and zipper, only slightly hindered by the hussy left hand, which makes a dive into Andrew's trousers as soon as the zipper teeth part.
It was different, being on this side of things, his fingers in Edward's mouth, but it was still good. A lot of it might have to do with his...appreciation of hands--something he was only vaguely consciously aware of--but he was still imagining Edward's mouth other places, and that, combined with everything else, the sensations, his tongue on his fingers, fed into the heat flushing his skin. And that was before Edward got him re-positioned.
The ease with which he maneuvered Andrew was thrilling--and a bit startling, though not bad--in ways he'd only recently started processing. He liked it, and he couldn't help the breathless way he laughed, light and pleased. In the next moment, he made a very different sound, his breath hitching before he groaned, low. He wasn't sure he'd ever found out why, exactly, that particular left hand was such a gremlin--or if he did and just didn't remember--but he continued to appreciate its priorities.
Though it might have been in the way considering everything else going on, that didn't bother Andrew at the moment, made clear with the way he pressed his hips up against the eager left hand. It could be as much of a nuisance as it wanted to, so long as it kept touching him. His own free hand ended up on Edward's hip. Or thigh. Or both. One or the other, if he could make up his mind where he wanted his hand to be, rather than shifting it back and forth. Indecision was one of his worst enemies.
After a moment, he seemed to reach a decision, which was lightly grazing his claws along Edward's thigh before sliding his palm back up and repeating the motion all over again.
The extra left hand has been a plague since it sprouted from Edward's back, and Edward himself is only just beginning to understand why it does what it does. The hand will do whatever Edward himself secretly wants to do but is denying himself, and will do it without shame. It was an ordeal at first, when it would try to grab unsuspecting drifters, but it has since calmed down, mostly because Edward doesn't have to force it to mind its manners around Andrew. When the hand can get the gremlins out--when Edward doesn't have to deny himself--it behaves much better. Also, since meeting Andrew and finding a willing partner, the left hand has lost interest in trying to play grab ass with other drifters. It mostly reacts now when Edward is startled or afraid, and is still the first hand to rise to Edward's face and try to cover his scars or eyes when he's upset. That has been happening less frequently too, thankfully.
The left hand currently busies itself with shoving Andrew's boxers down and freeing his cock so it can wrap around it. For all its typical chaotic behaviour, the hand is very gentle as it starts loosely stroking up and down Andrew's length. When the other hands get the rest of Andrew's clothes out of the way, they join in too, running up and down his thighs, carefully pushing them open, one hand cupping Andrew's balls in its palm. Edward has started to realise Andrew has a thing for hands, and he has plenty of them to go around.
When Andrew runs his claws along his back, Edward arches it down low, his abdomen coming down to touch Andrew's as his head rolls back. He loses Andrew's fingers from his mouth as he groans, his eyes closing as claws leave little lightning trails over his skin. When they come back, he arches his back upwards, like a frightened cat's, and presses his lips to the long column of Andrew's throat.
If Andrew ever found that out, he would be both charmed and empathetic. Let the left hand free. Let Edward eventually become more comfortable and do the things he wanted to do without shame. ...Those were things Andrew had trouble with, himself. He had been making progress, though, and he knew very well what the struggle was like.
This wasn't the first time he'd had Edward's hands on him, but if felt every bit as electric as any other time, no matter where Edward was touching him. His brain absolutely scrambled for a moment, with hands on his cock, and for a few breaths he was running purely on reflex, instinct, and whatever it was his own hands were doing. Both of them were on Edward's back now, not only reacting to his reaction, but remembering, suddenly, how his claws on Edward's back had gone the very first time.
He groaned, even as he moved his legs for Edward, his hips pressing up into his hands. His claws dragged down Edward's back again, light for the most part, but it was all too easy, with how distracted he was, to accidentally use a little more force here and there. Nothing too much, just enough for a more proper scratch, maybe a very light nick. His eyes slid closed and he tipped his head back, baring his throat to Edward, breath hitching in his chest.
Andrew doesn't need to worry at all about how forcefully he's using his claws. Edward is pressing into them either way, and when they go just a fraction too deep, he groans against Andrew's neck.
"Yes... like that..."
The edge between pain and pleasure is exactly what Edward wants, even if he's only just now realising that's what he likes.
He doesn't let it distract him too much, though; he's a gentleman, after all, and isn't going to leave Andrew taut and wanting. He trails wet, enthusiastic kisses down the line of Andrew's throat and onto his check, pausing to tentatively suck a bruise on his skin under his collarbone. If Andrew seems to like that, Edward is going to keep at it, making a meandering line of them down Andrew's front.
It's not a straight path to Andrew's groin. Edward veers off to mouth at one of Andrew's nipples, then grazes his teeth along his ribs. At one point, the mandibles that usually rest on either side of Edward's jaw pop out of his mouth, and then there are light lines scored on either side of the marks left by his mouth.
Edward retracts the mandibles when he gets near Andrew's navel, where he finds a trail of hair leading downward and is positively enraptured by it, smothering it with kisses and the faintest little nips with his teeth.
Oh. Andrew was going to file away that piece of information, especially now that he was more coherent, enough that he would be able to actually remember the rest of the time, not just when he literally had his claws on Edward's back and was reminded. He felt extremely similarly, himself, about that line between pain and pleasure, though he'd never actually said anything about it out loud.
He relaxed a bit about his claws, hands wandering and mapping out the lines of Edward's back, sweeping palms followed by the drag of claws. There wasn't much room for doubt about whether or not Andrew enjoyed the bruise Edward sucked into his skin, with his low, throaty groan. Yes, he liked that, and a small wave of goosebumps broke out over his skin.
The lower Edward moved, the high Andrew's hands shifted, from his back to his shoulders, a palm skimming the back of his neck, gently sliding his fingers into his hair. So he might have (he did), accidentally, pulled on Edward's hair reflexively when he felt his...mandibles? Had he been aware that he had those? He didn't think he'd been. But either way, the brief, accidental hair pulling was part of an entirely positive reaction. It had been a surprise, but a good one, and Andrew made some sort of noise, a breathless whine.
"Didn't realize you've been hiding those this whole time." He sounded equally breathless, flushed. Not to be confused with a complaint, because he definitely wasn't complaining. He had zero issues with anything that was happening, as if his unwavering erection didn't make that wildly clear.
Edward has not shown Andrew his mandibles yet! He tends to keep them in his mouth when he can, as he knows they make his face appear more insectoid than usual. The spider legs bother him far less than the mandibles, strangely enough. He's also hesitant to expose them because he mostly uses them for killing monsters that are caught in his webs.
It's a surprise, and not an unwelcome one, when Andrew sounds so pleased about them. Edward lifts his head, looking flushed and pleased, and slowly lets them slide back out from the corners of his mouth.
"I haven't showed you these before?" His words get a little mushy around the edges with them out, but he's still understandable. He lowers his head a bit and traces the tips of his mandibles along the line of Andrew's treasure trail, like he's drawing lines on either side of it. When he gets to the tip of Andrew's cock, Edward shifts his head's position, letting the mandibles rest flat on Andrew's abdomen so he can get his mouth close enough to mouth at him. He's going to have to retract them to do any proper sucking, but they can fool around with them a little first, if Andrew is still into it.
With everything that Andrew had told Edward about himself, how he'd spent the better part of a decade and change hiding things he could do, things that were part of who he was, that he was frightened of--he understood. He understood hiding things or not talking about them because they felt uncomfortable, or there was a worry someone would be judgy. Andrew wasn't judgy. He wasn't uncomfortable with Edward's changes or spider parts, though he would admit it took him a few blinks to properly parse the sight of the mandibles. They were different--not 'bad' different, just different.
"No. I'd definitely remember those." Also not a complaint, and neither was the way he went a little more still for a moment as he watched those mandibles get closer to his cock. He trusted Edward and- yeah no, he was still very into this. Especially with the first touch of his mouth--Andrew might've shivered in the split second before contact, he was so eager for it.
"Oh-" Yeah, that was good, and his light tug on Edward's hair was entirely an encouragement.
Edward is pretty sure he wouldn't like anyone's mandibles getting that close to his cock, regardless of how much control or experience the other party had using them, so after mouthing at Andrew a bit more, he slips them back into his mouth. They might come out again later, but for now, he has other concerns.
Which chiefly consist of propping himself up between Andrew's thighs--using the elbows of his second pair of arms, and those hands to push Andrew's legs apart--and gently taking hold of Andrew's cock to lift it up away from his abdomen. Then Edward closes his eyes and bends low over it, running his tongue along its entire length.
He isn't as confident about what to do as Andrew was, so when he gets to the head of it, Edward curls his tongue around it for a moment before letting go and teasing just under the glans. The whole time, he's paying close attention to any clues Andrew gives him. The hair pulling was a good one, as are the sounds he's making.
The gremlin left hand is the only hand not currently occupied--which, for the first time, Edward did on purpose, knowing that hand would find some way to amuse itself--and it sinks down to Andrew's balls. It gets both of them in a very loose fist, with the back of its knuckles brushing against Andrew's body, and gives them an appreciative caress.
Fair, honestly. And though Andrew was somewhere in the middle on really deciding how he felt about Edward's mandibles so close to his cock, it was easy enough for him to get distracted by Edward's hands, his touch, and then his mouth, the slide of his tongue. That alone was enough to have a shiver rolling down his spine, a breathy whine in the back of his throat.
His own confidence before had been a combination of the 'fake it till you make it' mentality and sheer eagerness, so he wasn't surprised nor disappointed that Edward took a slower approach. He was doing fine, too, and Andrew was sure both of them would get plenty of hands on experience to get more familiar with things, to discover what worked best, what felt good. He'd always enjoyed learning, but he was especially eager and invested in this, invested in Edward.
Andrew was also an open book in this moment, his fingers tightening in Edward's hair, claws grazing his scalp when he curled his tongue around the head of his cock. He wasn't watching anymore, if only because it felt like a whole lot of effort right now to keep his eyes open, instead of just closing them and melting into the sensations.
He would've been (pleasantly) surprised either way though, when the gremlin left hand ended up on his balls. Between the brush of knuckles and the caress, Andrew expressed his own appreciation with a little groan and a slight twitch of his hips. And maybe a little tug on Edward's hair, too.
Thus far, this has been the finest example in Edward's life of something he'd like to learn through using his hands and experimenting. Book knowledge is great and all, but there's something to be said for just getting in there and trying things out to find out what works, particularly for something as pleasurable as this.
He makes a soft purring sound when Andrew pulls his hair, and with that encouragement, Edward opens his mouth wider and bobs his head down, taking Andrew fully into his mouth. He holds him there, feeling the weight and heft of him on his tongue, and Edward's dick gives an interested twitch between his legs. It's too soon for him to be back to full mast again, but he could be within a few minutes, as this continues.
Edward swallows then, the back of his throat caressing the head of Andrew's cock, before he starts bobbing up and down, lathing his tongue along the shaft with every movement. Between Andrew's legs, the gremlin left hand rubs the back of its knuckles against the space between Andrew's balls and his hole, before giving his balls another squeeze.
Andrew wasn't sure there was any kind of book knowledge or reading that could compare to learning something like this hands on. It wasn't just that reading about it could never compare to actually doing, but that he wouldn't trade something like this for the distance of impersonal knowledge. He wouldn't trade Edward for anything.
Especially not when he made Andrew feel like he was melting, in the best way possible. It was more than that, not just the physical sensations, but everything he felt, every emotion. He hadn't expected anything like this when he'd first met Edward, or when he'd found him on Andrew's birthday. He hadn't realized, either, just exactly how lonely he'd been, how much he'd wanted to be able to be genuine with someone, to not hide parts of himself, to talk to someone, and be accepted. And not just accepted, but wanted, cared about.
It was all of that, every bit, that blended together and made the physical more. No more pretending either, no more ignoring his attraction or doing his best to not acknowledge it because he was too scared to. Embracing things had brought a lightness to his life, a weight off his shoulders. He felt more comfortable with himself now than he ever really had.
Which brought him back around to now, the way his hips canted up, unable to stop himself, when Edward took him all the way into his mouth. He was equally unable to stop himself when he moaned--and he wouldn't have stopped himself even if he'd been able to. What he was trying to do was keep himself scraped together for longer than he had in the past, like the first time Edward had touched him.
It was so good, everything, and he'd never realized, either, how sensitive that spot was that Edward's gremlin hand rubbed its knuckles against. It was apparent now though, and he shivered, pleasant sensation sliding over his skin. He tugged, light but firm, on Edward's hair, both so as not to accidentally yank, and so he wouldn't interrupt or derail what he was doing, the bob of his head pulling another moan from Andrew. That didn't stop his other hand from sliding across the curve of a shoulder though, the back of Edward's neck, wherever he could easily reach, claws grazing lightly.
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Pausing to look was equal parts admiration and an attempt to plan his course of action. Except he had no idea what that plan should be, and he was just going to be winging it the entire time. It was easier to be a bit less nervous about the whole 'winging it' part with Edward's hands in his hair, a welcome distraction that sent a noticeable shiver through him.
He nearly melted, right then and there, when Edward pulled on his hair, the sound he made leading Andrew to brace himself with a hand on the mattress beside Edward's hip as heat flared in his core. His other hand, he curled around his cock for a different sort of stability. And so he didn't accidentally push himself; he didn't have any concept of what his gag reflex would be like with this. He went slow, even as he groaned again. Slow suction, another slow swirl of his tongue. For all of his eagerness, he didn't want to rush this; he wanted it to be good.
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For all that Andrew doesn't want to rush things, Edward isn't going to last very long. It feels like his nerves are on fire, every one of them attuned to the warmth of Andrew's mouth, the velvet swipe of his tongue. Even the sensation of his hand on him, the first hand to touch him there besides his own, is overwhelming, making Edward's mind swim. He melts back into the narrow bed, completely at Andrew's mercy.
"I'm close, love." Edward breathes the words up to the ceiling, and they come out as red mist in the vibrations, twining and dancing around each other as they ascend. "I'm so close..."
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He pulled back a fraction, just for a second, for a low gasp or inhale, before trying to push into Edward's hand. Then he lowered his mouth back to Edward's cock, carefully taking him a little deeper in his mouth, working on figuring out where his gag reflex might begin, so he wouldn't choke himself. The answer to that question was 'not here, not yet', so he settled in comfortably again, adding a slow stroke of his hand, a twist of his wrist.
The sound of Edward's voice sent a little shiver through Andrew, made him both want to hurry and want to take his time. He opted for keeping on, steady and determined, his focus bouncing between what he was doing and Edward's reactions, taking note of things as best he could when he felt like he could melt at any moment, his brain two steps away from fizzing into all sensation, no thought.
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With that realisation, a tremendous weight drops off Edward's shoulders, and he gasps in a breath like a man who had been drowning but finally got his head above water. He isn't aware of it, but tears streak down his cheeks, coloured silver in the vibrations, and the glittering thing between his ribs balloons out.
Then Andrew bobs back down, his tongue moving just so, and Edward loses his battle with himself. His entire body shudders as he comes, his hands tightening in Andrew's hair, his nails raking up the length of his back. The vibrations explode, turning entirely deep red and washing out like a tidal wave, while the glittering thing in his torso spirals upwards before extending out like a geyser, tiny glittering bits falling over them both like snow.
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At least Andrew's eyes were already closed, so when unexpected tears stung his eyes, it was easier to work them back. Until a very effective distraction happened, in the form of Edward coming, his hands in his hair and his nails raking along his back. His attention refocused instantly, tears momentarily forgotten about. He felt almost like he could come undone any moment himself, groaning low in his throat.
The vibrations were breath-taking enough that he nearly got wholly wrapped up in them as he swallowed, doing his best to make sure he wouldn't make a mess when he eventually lifted his head. When he did pull back, he didn't go far, resting his cheek on Edward's hip while he caught his breath, fingers uncurling from around his dick. Even then, he couldn't quite stay still, turning his head a bit to press a kiss to Edward's skin.
"Good?" he asked. There were multiple different ways he meant the question, but the one word was all he ended up with right now.
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Perhaps this is the day that the moon warp decides to bestow crazy insect strength on Edward. Or maybe Andrew just wants to be cooperative and come join him at the top of the bed.
Once he's within reach, Edward is going to pull Andrew into a slow, lazy, open-mouthed kiss. Does he care that Andrew just had a mouth full of jizz? No, no he does not. If anything, he's both curious and a little turned on at the salty taste on Andrew's tongue.
"Stellar." He murmurs the word into the kiss, as the vibrations start calming down. Some of the little glittery stars wink out, but the majority stay as the red fades away into the deep, warm teal again. It starts to look like they're cocooned in the night sky.
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"Good." He nearly breathed the word, kissing Edward again after. The emotions that had surged just a few moments ago were still there, close to the surface, mingling in with everything else he felt. He didn't know how to put them into words, so he held the feelings close for now, turning them this way and that as he mulled them over.
"I guess winging it didn't go so bad." He grinned as he said it, warm and pleased. And if winging it had gone this well, imagine how much better it'd be as he learned and then put his new knowledge to use. He'd already made note of a few tidbits as it was.
His grin faded into something softer after a moment, while he appreciated the sight of the vibrations. "They're beautiful." His voice had dipped back down to a murmur. "And I made you feel that way."
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He plucks up one of Andrew's hands and starts playing with it, caressing it between two of his before bringing it to his lips and kissing Andrew's fingertips. "You'll have to let me try it, at some point."
Like right now, maybe? Give Edward a twenty minute breather and he's pretty sure he'd be up to trying it himself.
"You did." There is the faintest hitch in Edward's voice as he continues. "After meeting you, they started changing to colours. Not everyone, not everything, but familiar people and objects... they're in colour now. Because of you."
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And now, right now, he was acutely reminded of the heat under his skin, his erection trapped in his jeans. The reminder came two-fold, between Edward kissing his fingertips, and you'll have to let me try it, and for the span of a few breaths, Andrew forgot everything else he'd been thinking. "Yes. Yeah. I'd- I'd really like that." He'd stopped bothering with attempts at sounding casual; if he was interested, if he was enthusiastic (and he was), he wanted Edward to know and not have to try and guess. He deserved to know.
Hearing the little hitch in Edward's voice had Andrew's throat tightening for a second, the emotions all the best sort. "Usually, people say you light up their world, but I've brought color to yours." And maybe he'd done the other bit, too, but the colors were a definite. He didn't think he'd ever been that for anyone before.
"And you have, you know." He spoke up again after a moment, quiet but sincere. "Lit up my world."
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"Did I? I'm glad." Edward sounds a little bemused at the concept; he doesn't think he's done anything near what Andrew has done for him, but he'll take the compliment regardless. He can't help thinking that Andrew's world must not have been that dark to begin with, if Edward was able to light it up.
Either way, he remembers how this started out, and he kisses Andrew's fingertips with more intention. "Will you help me, ah, wing it? For you?"
Once he gets past his initial nerves, he'll probably be fine, but he needs a little help getting started.
The slutty second left hand doesn't need that assistance. It wiggles down between them and cups the bulge in Andrew's jeans, giving it an appreciative squeeze.
cw: (past) suicidal ideation
"You did." He could tell, from Edward's tone, that he was a bit unsure about that, or something along those lines. "I was in a bad place before we met."
He'd had some of his bleakest moments in the last few months before he'd met Edward. The days and weeks he'd spent not caring if he lived or died. The handful of times he'd wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. But now...there were so many things that made him glad to be alive, things he wanted to do. There would still be hard times, but he wasn't rock bottom, fumbling around alone in the dark anymore. He'd been tossed a lifeline, and he could see where he needed to go.
And he'd never felt so comfortable in his own skin before, either. The ghost stuff...well, he was working on that, still, but everything else? He felt like he finally knew who he was.
"But you've..." Andrew took a breath, gave himself a moment to sort his words. "You've made things better. And you've been good to me."
A shiver rolled down his spine, his thoughts scattering for a moment because yes, yes he would absolutely help Edward wing it. "Yeah, I'd be happy to help." For various reasons, but also because he knew what those nerves were like, and the difference a little guidance or encouragement or assistance could make.
Of course, there was always that one particular hand, which Andrew really got, in terms of the gremlin energy it seemed to possess. His breath hitched, and he exhaled on a low groan, shifting slightly to press into Edward's hand.
cw: (past) suicidal ideation, continued
"I was as well, before I arrived here." Edward stops kissing Andrew's fingertips for a moment, and just holds his hand over his chest. "The reality of my situation was beginning to set in, and I was... trapped. I felt like an animal in a snare. I had two friends at the home where I was convalescing, and they were trying to help me, but there was just so much to learn, so fast, and I... I wasn't able to keep up. I didn't think I'd ever be able to keep up."
The black streaks start to bloom outwards, covering some of the stars in the vibrations.
"But then, I came here, and after a few months, I met you." The stars that had been covered by the black start glowing, becoming brighter, and they burn through the darkness, sending it shrinking back to wherever it came from. "And you, you... you accept me, with all my flaws and eccentricities, and you make me want to be better. For you."
Thank god for the gremlin left hand, or this could have gotten really emotional. Edward chuckles when Andrew groans, and he brings Andrew's hand back to his mouth. Tentatively, he takes two of his fingers into his mouth, curling his tongue around them and trying to imitate what Andrew had just done to his cock.
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But here... he still grappled with his anxiety, but everything didn't feel so much like it was going to eat him alive anymore. He had room to breathe, and it'd been so long since he'd felt like he could relax, really relax.
He couldn't begin to imagine how awful it had been for Edward to lose his vision, and then the moments that came afterward, trying to adjust when nothing would be the same again. He had a few theories, by this time, about what had happened to Edward's vision, but he wasn't going to ask. Dragging up those memories and making him talk about it wasn't something Andrew was in a hurry to do. He knew very well what it was like to not want to talk about certain things, and either way, it wasn't like he needed to know.
There was a lump in his throat again, and he wasn't quite sure when it'd returned, but he wasn't sure when his tears had returned, either, until one snaked down the side of his face. It was a slightly awkward combination of emotions, but he did his best to ignore that awkwardness--acknowledging it would only make it worse, he was sure--and instead gently tugged Edward's hand closer so he could kiss the back of it.
"I do. And you make me want to be better, too," he murmured, trying to sniffle subtly. Edward accepted him too, all of him--even the parts Andrew thought he'd always have to keep hidden from people--and that was something he hardly knew how to verbalize, for what it meant to him.
Fortunately, he didn't have to try and struggle with those words, his brain getting the memo that his body hadn't forgotten how wound tight he was. He was pretty sure, actually, that being emotional just made him want Edward more, made him crave more closeness, more intimacy. He watched, quiet and intent, interested, when Edward took his fingers into his mouth. Goosebumps spread over his skin and he exhaled in a rush, a soft affected noise followed by, "Oh."
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But not today. Things are going too well and feeling too good to bring it up today.
Andrew's reaction to having his fingers in Edward's mouth is excellent, and Edward tries the tongue swirl again before lightly sucking on them. He's not sure he's getting quite the same enjoyment from this as Andrew does or is, but since Andrew likes it so much, he puts his all into it.
In the meantime, with four hands at his disposal and crazy spider strength that he is just starting to realise he has, Edward starts moving Andrew around, getting them both positioned. It's easy enough to flip Andrew onto his back and then climb on top of him, straddling him with one leg on either side of his hips. Then two hands get to work on his belt and zipper, only slightly hindered by the hussy left hand, which makes a dive into Andrew's trousers as soon as the zipper teeth part.
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The ease with which he maneuvered Andrew was thrilling--and a bit startling, though not bad--in ways he'd only recently started processing. He liked it, and he couldn't help the breathless way he laughed, light and pleased. In the next moment, he made a very different sound, his breath hitching before he groaned, low. He wasn't sure he'd ever found out why, exactly, that particular left hand was such a gremlin--or if he did and just didn't remember--but he continued to appreciate its priorities.
Though it might have been in the way considering everything else going on, that didn't bother Andrew at the moment, made clear with the way he pressed his hips up against the eager left hand. It could be as much of a nuisance as it wanted to, so long as it kept touching him. His own free hand ended up on Edward's hip. Or thigh. Or both. One or the other, if he could make up his mind where he wanted his hand to be, rather than shifting it back and forth. Indecision was one of his worst enemies.
After a moment, he seemed to reach a decision, which was lightly grazing his claws along Edward's thigh before sliding his palm back up and repeating the motion all over again.
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The left hand currently busies itself with shoving Andrew's boxers down and freeing his cock so it can wrap around it. For all its typical chaotic behaviour, the hand is very gentle as it starts loosely stroking up and down Andrew's length. When the other hands get the rest of Andrew's clothes out of the way, they join in too, running up and down his thighs, carefully pushing them open, one hand cupping Andrew's balls in its palm. Edward has started to realise Andrew has a thing for hands, and he has plenty of them to go around.
When Andrew runs his claws along his back, Edward arches it down low, his abdomen coming down to touch Andrew's as his head rolls back. He loses Andrew's fingers from his mouth as he groans, his eyes closing as claws leave little lightning trails over his skin. When they come back, he arches his back upwards, like a frightened cat's, and presses his lips to the long column of Andrew's throat.
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This wasn't the first time he'd had Edward's hands on him, but if felt every bit as electric as any other time, no matter where Edward was touching him. His brain absolutely scrambled for a moment, with hands on his cock, and for a few breaths he was running purely on reflex, instinct, and whatever it was his own hands were doing. Both of them were on Edward's back now, not only reacting to his reaction, but remembering, suddenly, how his claws on Edward's back had gone the very first time.
He groaned, even as he moved his legs for Edward, his hips pressing up into his hands. His claws dragged down Edward's back again, light for the most part, but it was all too easy, with how distracted he was, to accidentally use a little more force here and there. Nothing too much, just enough for a more proper scratch, maybe a very light nick. His eyes slid closed and he tipped his head back, baring his throat to Edward, breath hitching in his chest.
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"Yes... like that..."
The edge between pain and pleasure is exactly what Edward wants, even if he's only just now realising that's what he likes.
He doesn't let it distract him too much, though; he's a gentleman, after all, and isn't going to leave Andrew taut and wanting. He trails wet, enthusiastic kisses down the line of Andrew's throat and onto his check, pausing to tentatively suck a bruise on his skin under his collarbone. If Andrew seems to like that, Edward is going to keep at it, making a meandering line of them down Andrew's front.
It's not a straight path to Andrew's groin. Edward veers off to mouth at one of Andrew's nipples, then grazes his teeth along his ribs. At one point, the mandibles that usually rest on either side of Edward's jaw pop out of his mouth, and then there are light lines scored on either side of the marks left by his mouth.
Edward retracts the mandibles when he gets near Andrew's navel, where he finds a trail of hair leading downward and is positively enraptured by it, smothering it with kisses and the faintest little nips with his teeth.
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He relaxed a bit about his claws, hands wandering and mapping out the lines of Edward's back, sweeping palms followed by the drag of claws. There wasn't much room for doubt about whether or not Andrew enjoyed the bruise Edward sucked into his skin, with his low, throaty groan. Yes, he liked that, and a small wave of goosebumps broke out over his skin.
The lower Edward moved, the high Andrew's hands shifted, from his back to his shoulders, a palm skimming the back of his neck, gently sliding his fingers into his hair. So he might have (he did), accidentally, pulled on Edward's hair reflexively when he felt his...mandibles? Had he been aware that he had those? He didn't think he'd been. But either way, the brief, accidental hair pulling was part of an entirely positive reaction. It had been a surprise, but a good one, and Andrew made some sort of noise, a breathless whine.
"Didn't realize you've been hiding those this whole time." He sounded equally breathless, flushed. Not to be confused with a complaint, because he definitely wasn't complaining. He had zero issues with anything that was happening, as if his unwavering erection didn't make that wildly clear.
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It's a surprise, and not an unwelcome one, when Andrew sounds so pleased about them. Edward lifts his head, looking flushed and pleased, and slowly lets them slide back out from the corners of his mouth.
"I haven't showed you these before?" His words get a little mushy around the edges with them out, but he's still understandable. He lowers his head a bit and traces the tips of his mandibles along the line of Andrew's treasure trail, like he's drawing lines on either side of it. When he gets to the tip of Andrew's cock, Edward shifts his head's position, letting the mandibles rest flat on Andrew's abdomen so he can get his mouth close enough to mouth at him. He's going to have to retract them to do any proper sucking, but they can fool around with them a little first, if Andrew is still into it.
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"No. I'd definitely remember those." Also not a complaint, and neither was the way he went a little more still for a moment as he watched those mandibles get closer to his cock. He trusted Edward and- yeah no, he was still very into this. Especially with the first touch of his mouth--Andrew might've shivered in the split second before contact, he was so eager for it.
"Oh-" Yeah, that was good, and his light tug on Edward's hair was entirely an encouragement.
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Which chiefly consist of propping himself up between Andrew's thighs--using the elbows of his second pair of arms, and those hands to push Andrew's legs apart--and gently taking hold of Andrew's cock to lift it up away from his abdomen. Then Edward closes his eyes and bends low over it, running his tongue along its entire length.
He isn't as confident about what to do as Andrew was, so when he gets to the head of it, Edward curls his tongue around it for a moment before letting go and teasing just under the glans. The whole time, he's paying close attention to any clues Andrew gives him. The hair pulling was a good one, as are the sounds he's making.
The gremlin left hand is the only hand not currently occupied--which, for the first time, Edward did on purpose, knowing that hand would find some way to amuse itself--and it sinks down to Andrew's balls. It gets both of them in a very loose fist, with the back of its knuckles brushing against Andrew's body, and gives them an appreciative caress.
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His own confidence before had been a combination of the 'fake it till you make it' mentality and sheer eagerness, so he wasn't surprised nor disappointed that Edward took a slower approach. He was doing fine, too, and Andrew was sure both of them would get plenty of hands on experience to get more familiar with things, to discover what worked best, what felt good. He'd always enjoyed learning, but he was especially eager and invested in this, invested in Edward.
Andrew was also an open book in this moment, his fingers tightening in Edward's hair, claws grazing his scalp when he curled his tongue around the head of his cock. He wasn't watching anymore, if only because it felt like a whole lot of effort right now to keep his eyes open, instead of just closing them and melting into the sensations.
He would've been (pleasantly) surprised either way though, when the gremlin left hand ended up on his balls. Between the brush of knuckles and the caress, Andrew expressed his own appreciation with a little groan and a slight twitch of his hips. And maybe a little tug on Edward's hair, too.
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He makes a soft purring sound when Andrew pulls his hair, and with that encouragement, Edward opens his mouth wider and bobs his head down, taking Andrew fully into his mouth. He holds him there, feeling the weight and heft of him on his tongue, and Edward's dick gives an interested twitch between his legs. It's too soon for him to be back to full mast again, but he could be within a few minutes, as this continues.
Edward swallows then, the back of his throat caressing the head of Andrew's cock, before he starts bobbing up and down, lathing his tongue along the shaft with every movement. Between Andrew's legs, the gremlin left hand rubs the back of its knuckles against the space between Andrew's balls and his hole, before giving his balls another squeeze.
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Especially not when he made Andrew feel like he was melting, in the best way possible. It was more than that, not just the physical sensations, but everything he felt, every emotion. He hadn't expected anything like this when he'd first met Edward, or when he'd found him on Andrew's birthday. He hadn't realized, either, just exactly how lonely he'd been, how much he'd wanted to be able to be genuine with someone, to not hide parts of himself, to talk to someone, and be accepted. And not just accepted, but wanted, cared about.
It was all of that, every bit, that blended together and made the physical more. No more pretending either, no more ignoring his attraction or doing his best to not acknowledge it because he was too scared to. Embracing things had brought a lightness to his life, a weight off his shoulders. He felt more comfortable with himself now than he ever really had.
Which brought him back around to now, the way his hips canted up, unable to stop himself, when Edward took him all the way into his mouth. He was equally unable to stop himself when he moaned--and he wouldn't have stopped himself even if he'd been able to. What he was trying to do was keep himself scraped together for longer than he had in the past, like the first time Edward had touched him.
It was so good, everything, and he'd never realized, either, how sensitive that spot was that Edward's gremlin hand rubbed its knuckles against. It was apparent now though, and he shivered, pleasant sensation sliding over his skin. He tugged, light but firm, on Edward's hair, both so as not to accidentally yank, and so he wouldn't interrupt or derail what he was doing, the bob of his head pulling another moan from Andrew. That didn't stop his other hand from sliding across the curve of a shoulder though, the back of Edward's neck, wherever he could easily reach, claws grazing lightly.
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