His Most Perfect Day: It's Neal's birthday, and Andy wants it to be just right.
Andy knows Neal's the one: the voice in his head, the words in his mouth. He knew it from the day they met, skinny boys with the same upper middle class backgrounds and the same fire in their eyes.
And every day since then: Neal's face, Neal's mouth, had been his entire world. They'd grown up together, learned to perform and play their guitars together. Learned about love and sex from each other, too; there were others, of course, but ultimately and always, there was Neal. He'd watched as Neal's virgin body acquired knowledge, sly tattoos, metal that punctuates his ears and the lips Andy loves, watched him grow into this towering blond guitar god. But his, always his.
Over the years, there were solo projects that brought them to different places, different stages, away from each other. But they spent their birthdays together. It wasn't a conscious decision, Neal wasn't particularly up for sentiment, less for discussing it; that's just the way it was.
Last year, they'd spent Neal's birthday like they spent most of December, rehearsing for Dave's large vanity project. Andy was genuinely excited to be performing backup for Dave; he'd never been on a tour of this scale before, he wanted to be at the top of his game, for Dave and to bring the lessons he'd learned back to the Midwest Kings, back to Neal.
Andy had brought Neal breakfast in bed, though: french toast and his mom's homemade cake. Neal had rolled his eyes, then rolled Andy onto his back, and they didn't make it out of bed till rehearsal - that was a good year.
This year Andy wants to do something even more special; he doesn't need a reason to want his boyfriend's day to be perfect. Neal even wrote a song about it, gave him the words to sing.
Which is why Andy's a little peeved by how Neal wants to spend the day with the other boys and girls, getting trashed at their local bar. Don't get him wrong, he loves the guys more than life itself, but Neal's spent the entire year with them, spooning up to Dave onstage, playing Monty's guitar when the big guy was still strapped to it, doing his patented headbanging over at the drums and treating Kyle to a delicious view of his abs.
He's not sulking, exactly, when Neal comes over to his barstool and wraps his arms around him.
He glares at Neal's colorful forearms. He knows how each line and nuance feels against his tongue.
"What's eatin' you?" Neal says it gently, his lips brushing Andy's ear.
Andy sighs; he knows he's being kinda petulant, but they've learned to be honest with each other, they're so busy they have no time to play games. "I just...I just wanted to make this day perfect for you, that's all. Cake and candlelight, things like that."
Neal's silent for a beat. Then he reaches down, cups Andy's hand in his.
"My most perfect day? Each day I get to be with you," he murmurs, and Andy's heart melts a little.
"Anyway," Neal adds, "There's time for cake later, and candlelight. I'll even let you pick one and do whatever you want to me," and Andy grins fiercely.
"Whoa, it's not my birthday!"
"Yeah, but this is what I want for my perfect day," Neal says, smirking, and Andy turns in his arms, taking hold of Neal's collar, reaching up to claim him. He's never going to let Neal get away with that; he'll never let him get away, period.
His Most Perfect Day [PG-13]
Andy knows Neal's the one: the voice in his head, the words in his mouth. He knew it from the day they met, skinny boys with the same upper middle class backgrounds and the same fire in their eyes.
And every day since then: Neal's face, Neal's mouth, had been his entire world. They'd grown up together, learned to perform and play their guitars together. Learned about love and sex from each other, too; there were others, of course, but ultimately and always, there was Neal. He'd watched as Neal's virgin body acquired knowledge, sly tattoos, metal that punctuates his ears and the lips Andy loves, watched him grow into this towering blond guitar god. But his, always his.
Over the years, there were solo projects that brought them to different places, different stages, away from each other. But they spent their birthdays together. It wasn't a conscious decision, Neal wasn't particularly up for sentiment, less for discussing it; that's just the way it was.
Last year, they'd spent Neal's birthday like they spent most of December, rehearsing for Dave's large vanity project. Andy was genuinely excited to be performing backup for Dave; he'd never been on a tour of this scale before, he wanted to be at the top of his game, for Dave and to bring the lessons he'd learned back to the Midwest Kings, back to Neal.
Andy had brought Neal breakfast in bed, though: french toast and his mom's homemade cake. Neal had rolled his eyes, then rolled Andy onto his back, and they didn't make it out of bed till rehearsal - that was a good year.
This year Andy wants to do something even more special; he doesn't need a reason to want his boyfriend's day to be perfect. Neal even wrote a song about it, gave him the words to sing.
Which is why Andy's a little peeved by how Neal wants to spend the day with the other boys and girls, getting trashed at their local bar. Don't get him wrong, he loves the guys more than life itself, but Neal's spent the entire year with them, spooning up to Dave onstage, playing Monty's guitar when the big guy was still strapped to it, doing his patented headbanging over at the drums and treating Kyle to a delicious view of his abs.
He's not sulking, exactly, when Neal comes over to his barstool and wraps his arms around him.
He glares at Neal's colorful forearms. He knows how each line and nuance feels against his tongue.
"What's eatin' you?" Neal says it gently, his lips brushing Andy's ear.
Andy sighs; he knows he's being kinda petulant, but they've learned to be honest with each other, they're so busy they have no time to play games. "I just...I just wanted to make this day perfect for you, that's all. Cake and candlelight, things like that."
Neal's silent for a beat. Then he reaches down, cups Andy's hand in his.
"My most perfect day? Each day I get to be with you," he murmurs, and Andy's heart melts a little.
"Anyway," Neal adds, "There's time for cake later, and candlelight. I'll even let you pick one and do whatever you want to me," and Andy grins fiercely.
"Whoa, it's not my birthday!"
"Yeah, but this is what I want for my perfect day," Neal says, smirking, and Andy turns in his arms, taking hold of Neal's collar, reaching up to claim him. He's never going to let Neal get away with that; he'll never let him get away, period.