Andrew (andrils)

Andrew sat on the sofa, with Sir settled on his lap. In one hand he held an ice cream, and on the screen played a movie Andrew had put on to kill time until Neil's return. He pretended to follow the plot, though he had long since stopped understanding what was happening. From another room came King's meowing voice, and Andrew shifted his gaze in his direction for a second.

His thoughts returned once again to intimacy. To trust. To that vulnerability he still hated feeling. Especially the thought of the receiving position. It wasn't just about the fear of losing control. Far worse was the very sensation that he would have to trust another person completely and allow himself to be fully open. Even after all this time, the thought caused tension.

But with Neil, everything was different. Andrew trusted him. Enough to at least think about it, without pushing the possibility away.

In the evening, the front door finally opened. Neil returned home, and Andrew looked up at him. A soft, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face. He stroked Sir's back, set aside the ice cream, and just looked at Neil for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. An unpleasant tension still lingered inside, and his fingers tightened slightly in Sir's fur. Andrew was nervous, though he tried not to show it.

"We need to talk."