Andy/Fritz - first time (in years) one of them falls off the wagon. Requested by margotgrissom
Andy had dealt with a lot of drunk people in his life. From all the times he had scraped himself off the floor of some bar to the times he had been the designated driver and he had had to deal with Provenza and various other embarrassingly drunk police officers. But seeing someone who had been sober for so long, someone he cared about, slumped over a bar, drunk out of his mind to the point where even the bartender was shooting him disapproving looks, that was something completely different.
“Are you insane?” hissed Fritz, ushering Andy out of his office. “You can’t just come barging in here whenever you feel like it.”
“Why not?” asked Andy, throwing his arm out to the side. “Just tell them I’m picking you up for an AA meeting. They’re feds, they’re clueless.”
“Is the term anonymous completely lost on you?” Fritz sighed out of frustration, taking his glasses off and tucking them into his shirt.
He decided to ignore the not so subtle dig Andy had thrown at him.
“Fine,"said Andy, shaking his head. "Tell them we’re going to a baseball game. The Feds love baseball. Something to do with it being "America’s Game” or some other bullshit answer that I don’t want to think about.“
"Baseball, huh?” asked Fritz
“Yeah,” nodded Andy, folding his arms across his chest. “Baseball.”
Fritz scoffed, putting his glasses back on as he followed Andy out the door.
He wondered if the phrase batting for the other team would suffice as a valid excuse. After all, it had to do with baseball–sort of.
apropos of nothing, have a fritz/andy drabble i wrote for nikki last night. this is also filthy and heartbreaking as hell.
the first time andy sleeps with fritz, he’s drunk.
so drunk he can barely stand but somehow manages to make it to the younger man’s doorstep, into the apartment he’s all too familiar with. brenda’s gone, ‘working late’, he remembers fritz muttering though none of it actually matters.
because he’s a mess, he’s angry, and when fritz kisses him it’s so unexpected and sweet and he thinks he doesn’t deserve that kindness. he doesn’t deserve that kind of generosity and fritz doesn’t deserve to be wrapped up in all of the silly games sharon has initiated.
but it’s far too late to rethink and reanalyze, because soon fritz is tugging at his belt and tangling their tongues together and andy thinks that maybe he can live with himself if he does this. he can sleep with fritz, he can get him wrapped around his finger without feeling any sort of guilt in the end because all he wants is brenda anyway. he wants her so bad that he’ll stoop as low as fucking her husband to get him away from her and that’s all the justification he needs.
fritz is expendable, just another pawn. he’ll be taken care of accordingly, disposed of without anyone else batting an eye. that’s all he’s ever been good for anyway. always something in the way, never needed.
it’s a sobering thought that only comes to him when fritz cries out his name into the otherwise silence of the room. the overwhelming resentment for himself, for his actions, for sharon…his rage growing more potent with each thrust into fritz’s body. it wasn’t supposed to work this way and suddenly he doesn’t want fritz to be the one hurting.
“i’m sorry. so sorry,” andy whispers as he leaves his mark on fritz’s neck and he means every bit of it. there are flashes of possession as he strokes the younger man’s cock in time to his own rhythm. brenda doesn’t deserve him. doesn’t cherish fritz like a husband deserves to be cherished. through his hazy brain andy believes he could rectify that, fools himself into believing that he can protect this man. it’s a dangerous notion and he should not be seeking absolution in fritz
“please…” the whimper that escapes fritz’s throat in response nearly kills him but andy quickly comes back down to earth. he isn’t there for fritz’s needs. he could give a shit about fritz, and the sooner he’s out of the picture the better.
andy shudders through his own release, hips stilling as he cums and he thinks he’d like to leave fritz this way for brenda to find: debauched and sprawled out in their bed, covered in the scent of andy’s cologne and sweat, babbling incoherencies. it would kill her and he entertains that maybe it would hurt her in all the ways that she’s done to him in years past. all the ignored gestures and looks, the denied advances…and he has a slightest bit of satisfaction in picturing the look on her face when it happens, but his heart eventually wins out.
he slides to the edge of the bed after he’s gotten fritz off, knowing the younger man was expecting more than just a cold shoulder. a discussion…maybe an embrace to allow him to bask in the afterglow of such a forbidden act. in the perfect world andy knows he would stay, would let fritz hold him and soothe every worry. but that wasn’t them, that wasn’t today, and as he tugs his jeans back on he can hear the sigh of disappointment behind him.
“get yourself cleaned up, kid. your wife will be home soon.”
he can feel fritz’s eyes boring holes into his back and so badly he wants to just give in. he wants everything to be easy for once, even if it only means making things harder. andy frowns at the thought and he turns around to find fritz watching him with a confused expression on his face.
fritz smiles sadly and andy thinks his heart could break at just the sight, at the pain reflecting back in his eyes. for once, he’s beginning to realize it isn’t just him that brenda’s worn down, that he isn’t as lonely in his desperation as he once thought. his conscience soon kicks in and suddenly he’s decided that he can’t leave there without throwing fritz a lifeline.
after tugging on his shoes, andy reclines back on the bed far enough to meet fritz’s lips in a tender, lingering kiss that speaks volumes of more to come. “i’ll see you tomorrow, agent howard.”
for the moment it’s the only thing andy’s sure of as he brushes his lips against fritz’s one last time before making his escape. he’s made such a mess of things and this time there’s no going back.