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05 November 2007 @ 10:22 am
In the Heart of the Mountains (Part Two - End!)  
Title: In the Heart of the Mountains, Part One of Two
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: AC/AW (hardcore)
Word Count: 7,400 (in two parts; part two 2,200)
Rating: NC-17+
Summary: Andy’s broken, and needs to be fixed by someone who really, truly loves him.

(Latest chapter in the Ring Cycle)
Part One

In the Heart of the Mountains, Part Two

Andy showed up late the next evening, to Andrew’s near hysterical relief. Before Nicholas could even say anything, Andrew was smothering Andy in his arms, kissing his neck and face, apologizing and swearing that Andy was the most important thing in his world and please, god, please, don’t ever leave like that again. Nicholas just stared, mouth agape, at the protestations coming from Andrew’s mouth.

Andy smiled and pushed him off. He then looked at both of them in turn.

“I’m good.” He smiled, genuinely happy, but Nicholas thought he looked utterly exhausted as well. As if he just ran a marathon or…

“Andy…who?” Nicholas got it before Andrew did.

“Who what?” Andrew looked back and forth between them, and they saw his entire demeanor change when understanding finally hit. He looked devastated and furious in the next moment, but unwilling to attack Andy as he clearly wanted to do. Nicholas raised his hands.

“Not me, Andrew, I was…here.” He blushed.

Andy snickered. “I don’t care how much you two fuck. Not anymore. I’ll get mine.”

Andrew was shaking with rage. “Andy…WHO?” He turned and pointed at him.

“Whoever I want. We ain’t married.” Andy said it sternly, but otherwise seemed totally unconcerned about Andrew’s fury.

“And you are okay?” Nicholas asked, bypassing Andrew.

“I’m great. If you want to find out laaaaterrrrr.” Andy smiled, somewhat alluringly, and acting a bit silly as if he were punch-drunk with fatigue. Nicholas grinned, happy for him, and entirely willing to find out later.

Andrew picked up a chair and smashed it against the wall.


Andrew was furious at himself, but would not admit that to them. It should have been him, and he knew it, and he was cowardly about it the whole time. He hoped to use Nicholas as his errand boy and only ended up driving Andy into someone else’s bed. Someone.

It was true that they were not married and in Andrew’s mind, it was not even like dating. He knew that there was an open door policy in this, he just never expected Andy to take it. Andy was his, and he was willing to share with Nicholas because, in some strange way, Nicholas was there first and went through a lot with the both of them to get here. To think of Andy with anyone else, though, was simply wrong. Wrong in every way.

After he smashed the chair he went to his own room, slamming and even locking the door on them. He stayed there all night even when he heard the noises he knew meant that Nicholas was up into Andy, fucking him, and enjoying it. Nicholas did the same thing before Andy was damaged by Safi, when Andy lived with him for a while. It was something those two shared and clearly enjoyed. Andrew, though, did not know anything of the kind with Andy, becoming his lover long after the damage was done. He never expected to, in all honesty, and so it was with surprise and self-recrimination that he realized that he wanted to, desperately, but was now goddamn fucking third in line.

He laid on his bed and steamed, and the next day pretended that nothing was wrong, life was good, and he was utterly content.

He refused to touch Andy. At all.


“You drove him off, so you can’t punish him for it.” Nicholas lectured at him as he was getting dressed. Andrew was on the couch, where he had taken to sleeping again when Nicholas was there. When Nicholas was not there, he slept in his own room.

“Fuck off, Nick.”

Nicholas tucked his shirt in. “You’re not being fair.”

“You my fuhkin’ dad now? Need me to call him so you two can ‘discuss’?”

“He came back. It obviously was not someone important to him.”

“I don’t care who it was.”

“Oh for FUCK’S SAKE, you don’t think I’m buying that, do you? You are insane with jealousy. You’re just mad because you know it should have been you and you were too cowardly to try.” Nicholas put on his jacket.

Andrew shook in anger, but Nicholas called him out right on all of it, and he could not bring himself to fight. Nicholas moved closer and leaned over the couch, talking quietly.

“If you love him, if you really love him as I think you do, you will not keep hurting him like this with your own self-recriminations.” Nicholas stood up, gave him a stern look, and left for work.

Cursing Nicholas for being the pushy, self-righteous prick that he was, Andrew marched back to the bedroom and woke Andy up by barging in.

“Wot?” Andy blinked at him. He looked clean and still somewhat damp from the shower he took with Nicholas earlier. “Oh you here now?”

“Who?” Andrew said, standing at the foot of the bed. Andy sat up and pulled the sheets around him as if warding off the cold.

“That’s my business.”

“You let ‘im?”

“Yes, you fuckwad, ‘course I did.”

They only stared at each other for a moment before Andrew climbed over the footboard and grabbed Andy by the shoulders. He was shaking in rage and jealousy and instinctively knew he was dangerous, but he also knew that he could never, ever hurt Andy. So he was not exactly sure of what he wanted to do until he did it, pulling Andy into deep, tangled kiss that reminded them both of only one thing: the cellar where they thought they were going to die. It was the same life-giving breath flowing through them in that kiss, and it was electrical. Andrew straddled Andy, the sheets between them, and sat down on his lap, moving his arms under Andy’s so as to pull him up into his mouth. He ran one hand gently over the scars on Andy’s back and they both groaned in reaction.

It was not that they never kissed, or never touched; they had been lovers for almost a year now and there was very little skin they did not share. But Andrew knew he held back, not physically but emotionally. He always had, his whole life, and did not expect to change. Some of his own scars were deep and he simply did not trust people that much. Fucking was something else, personal and emotional of course but it did not have to include revealing your soul if you did not want it to, and he never did. In the cellar, though, when he thought Andy was as good as dead and that he was going to die too, he allowed Andy in to his broken sanity, and let Andy, the bloodied and dying one, get him off, and he never felt so open or raw or devastated as in the moment when he came and felt Andy go still in his arms. He honestly believed Andy was dead then, and howled in grief and rage while clinging to the fleshly bounds of the only person he could ever honestly say he loved. It was the fury of loss that possessed him then, and it was nearly the same now. He was terrified, flat out in fear of his life, of losing Andy; to death or another lover did not matter. It was the idea that Andy might one day simply be gone which obsessed him.

That was the kiss he gave Andy now, and Andy knew it.

He used his legs to brace them as he leaned them back onto the bed, never breaking the kiss for an instant. He laid down on top of Andy, the sheets still between them but not providing much barrier to their hard-ons. Andrew was still straddling Andy, using his body as a shield against everything in the world that might take him away. He held and caressed Andy’s face as their tongues moved in familiar territory but to a new rhythm.

Eventually Andrew pulled the sheets away and they ground against each other, kissing and gasping. Andrew drug his mouth away but could not look at Andy, instead pressing his face into his neck.

“Fuck, Andy…I’m sorry…”

“Shut it.” Andy forced his face back up and they shared a brief, dark glance before pushing each other back into the kiss.

Andrew finally moved his legs between Andy’s and pulled his knees in to draw Andy up. He broke off the kiss and laid his head next to Andy and Andy wrapped his arms around him. “I’m going to hurt you, mate…it won’t be easy.” He was still worried, even now, and was willing to stop if Andy was scared.

“Jus’ fuckin’ do it already.” Andy answered, and kissed his ear, making him gasp in surprise and pleasure as Andy’s tongue glided over and inside.

Even with the lube, it was not easy. They went very slowly but Andrew was thick and long and it nearly broke Andy, who refused to stop even then, crying in pain, his hands shaking. They were both lathered like racehorses by the time Andrew was fully sheathed, and panting, and exhausted, and the sex had not even started yet. Andrew held himself in, not moving, letting Andy’s muscles relax and calm down, feeling them clinch and unclench around his cock, which was a delightful kind of torture. Finally he felt safe pulling out and moving back in, and after the first few thrusts Andy’s back arched in response and he groaned in very painful pleasure.

He looked down at Andy and knew that he had him, completely, in a way he never did or could before. It was not enough.

“What you want, then?” He asked, running one hand over Andy’s cock, willing to offer anything that would turn Andy on.

Andy shook his head. “Don’ need nothin’. Got all I want, watchin’ you.” He smiled, and there was truth to what he said, Andrew knew. But it still was not enough.

“Fuck’all, mate, this isn’t about me. It’s us.” He steadied himself with his legs, pushing his cock deeper into Andy, and brought both hands up to hold his face, delicately, longingly, running a thumb over his lips.

Andy looked at him, impassioned and heated, but his eyes were lucid and focused on Andrew. “Say it.”

Andrew shook his head, confused, but kept Andy’s face in his hands. “Wot?”

“Fuck it you know…” Andy closed his eyes used his legs to push Andrew deeper into him, whining at the pain.

Andrew nodded and moved his hands to grab the upper part of Andy’s arm, almost to the shoulder, and Andy shifted to match the hold on Andrew. Their arms were laced together as one pushed down and the other supported and Andrew rolled his back to move his hips, slowly pushing and pulling himself in and out of Andy. Slowly. He never came like this during sex, usually throwing himself into it and crashing through to an orgasm fast and pounding. This was different, and it was something he did to himself very rarely, to drag out the sensation of coming. He moved very slowly and went very deep and concentrated very hard on the sensation, which was overwhelming in this case because it was not his own hand rubbing him, he was inside Andy. It was the first time he did it this way with any lover and it was exquisite. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, tightening his grip on Andy’s arms to the point he knew there would be bruises later, and rhythmically kept at his slow, ponderous fucking. Going like this he knew it would be long time before he came, and he relished it, nodding to himself in pure pleasure.

Andy held up under the duress, and knew it was different, and trusted Andrew in it. Andrew’s speed finally picked up as he reached the point of losing control, but not much, and he was sliding in and out of Andy in long, pressured motions as he felt the sensation start and began gasping for breath. He had to be here to do this, he could not have done it earlier, or in any other way, or at any other time, and he thought it might be the only time it would ever happen anyway:

“God fuckon, mate…I love you…don’t ever fuckin’ leave…I love you…yesssss…” He said the last through clinched teeth. His hips shuddered and he just barely bucked against Andy as he came.


Andy knew the door was closed. Whatever or whoever Andrew might do – and he might, Andy understood that much – Andy could not. Nicholas was a given, and something in the manner between those two indicated (to him at least) that things were moving in a more serious direction there, despite Nicholas’ pining for Danny. And Danny himself… Andy kept their secret as a warm, safe place in his heart, cherished and remembered. Nonetheless, Andy belonged to Andrew now, and maybe they were not married and maybe it was not dating but it was certainly total and complete ownership.

Andy was never happier in his life than he was now.

Current Mood: crankycranky
zombie survivalistbeccavox on November 7th, 2007 08:44 pm (UTC)

that was nice. And was I mean by 'nice' is 'damn, that was hot!'

I didn't think that anyone could be more emotionally retarded than Nicholas, but Andrew was giving him a run for his money. And I'm glad Andy is finally getting some love. He deserves it after all of this!

lacking in glitter: subtexttawg on November 9th, 2007 10:03 pm (UTC)
... Wow. I mean, I knew you were going to get the Andes together, but that was certainly an interesting (and sexy) route you took.