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terramous · 8 days ago

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do you ever think of me and my two hands? 2/2

fandom:all for the game title from:the crane wives - never love an anchor word count:2.2k warnings: discussion of a suicide attempt FIRST CHAPTER AO3

Neil ends up staying a whole week at Wymack’s before the coach puts his foot down.

“This is getting ridiculous, Neil.”

He just hums and continues folding his now-clean clothes and putting them back into his duffel. With one working arm it’s a hard task so he can use that as an excuse to keep him from looking up at his coach. It’s not the first time Wymack has tried to get through to him since Neil tucked tail and ran from sharing a dorm room with Andrew upon his discharge.

“You’ll do well to listen to me, boy,” the older man says and there’s an edge to his voice that stills Neil’s hands. He’s done so well when it comes to not being afraid of Wymack but every so often he’s caught off guard, when there’s a little hint of his father in the way Wymack moves or speaks.

Wymack notices this but pushes on, “you can’t avoid Andrew forever.”

Shaking the tension out of his neck, Neil returns to his folding. “I can sure try.”

A groan. “That does not make for a functional team, Neil.”

Neil doesn’t speak so the coach continues. “He’s alive and currently–”he checks his watch–”in session with Betsy, what more do you want from him?”

He bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The bitter taste of metal floods his mouth and he swallows it down before turning to Wymack now, red on his teeth. “I don’t want anything from him.”

The older man has his hands on his hips and the scowl to match that tells Neil he’s done this dance a million times before. The Foxes are not an easy team, everyone knows that, but sometimes Neil forgets Wymack has dealt with their shit for years and will for many more. He’s got the better part of four years left to wrangle with Neil, by graduation maybe he’ll have the boy sitting on command like a prized poodle. “You need something from him to get this stick outta your ass. What is it?”

Neil’s resolve bends then but it doesn’t break. “I don’t know.”

It flashes then. Andrew on the floor. The pills. The chest under his hands. The slack lips that don’t press back to his own. Neil swallows the lump in his throat.

His coach just groans again. “Well, you can’t stay here.”

“Coach–”

Wymack holds up a hand to shush him. “I don’t wanna hear it. I’ll drive you back to the dorm tonight and you’ll stay there. If you can’t make nice with Andrew, you at least have to learn to live with him.”

Neil drops his gaze to his duffel and the one shirt he has yet to fold and put back in there. His stomach twists thinking about it now, as if this shirt is the last thing keeping the sword of Damocles from coming down on his head. He can’t go back.

“Coach…” he tries again.

“I know it was scary, I know you’re scared,” he says. “But you can’t be scared for your whole life, Neil.��

Neil stiffens. “I’m not scared.”

He denies it because no matter what, Neil is a liar.

The tension doesn’t leave Neil, he carries it to that afternoon’s practice. The stiffness of his muscles makes his shoulder ache but he’s beared worse.

It’s Andrew’s first practice back on the court and he defends his goal like he’d never stepped foot away from it. Even Kevin is having a hard time scoring against him.

Matt is taking a breather on the bench next to him, he keeps twisting his wrist back and forth and there’s a burning on Neil’s tongue to ask him when it started. The timing doesn’t like up but Neil would love another bad thing to pin on his imaginary corkboard with the title “ANDREW’S FAULT”.

“How are you holding up?” Matt asks, thumbing at a soft point on his wrist and wincing when it hurts. “Still at coach’s?”

Neil shrugs him off. “He kicked me out.”

Matt bristles. “He what? When?”

“This morning. I’m moving back into the dorm after practice, guess he was getting sick of me.”

“No offense,” Matt starts and Neil prepares his offense to be had. “But your issue with Andrew is kinda pushing everyone apart. We’re supposed to be a team, Neil.”

“We are a team,” he says plainly.

“It sure doesn’t feel that way as of late.” Matt is testing is grip now, flexing his hand. Neil has half a mind to sic Abby on him. If his grip is struggling he won’t keep up in the match next week. “You two are…” he trails off, unable to figure out the right words. “You two are close, this tension is not doing either of you any favours. I’m pretty sure I narrowly prevented Andrew’s disembowelment of Nicky last night. He’s on edge, we all are.”

“Not my problem,” Neil says with a shrug that tightens his chest with the pain blooming in his shoulder. He still hadn’t learnt not to keep still.

“It would be good for you to talk to him, y’know?”

“I’m fine,” Neil says, albeit a little too quickly, and Matt lets out a hollow laugh.

“I don’t think anyone believes you when you say that anymore, Neil.”

Neil doesn’t dignify him with a response. “You should see Abby about your wrist,” is all he offers.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Coach will smack you if it’s worse than you’re letting on,” Neil says.

Matt laughs again, but gets up from the bench. “Not all of us are out here dislocating limbs from playing exy in a blind rage, Neil. A twinge in my wrist is the least of the team’s problems.”

With that he’s gone and Neil is left to watch Andrew again.

Andrew doesn’t miss a step and deflects each attempt at his goal with a fervour Neil isn’t sure he’s ever witnessed in the shorter man before. Andrew doesn’t get this passionate about exy. Maybe Neil wasn’t the only one who used the sport as an outlet, maybe Andrew could find his passion in the feeling of power with a racquet in his hand.

Neil has taken to helping Wymack spot the team’s areas for improvement over the past almost two weeks of being benched. Like how Allison almost trips over her feet when someone gets too close to her when she has the ball, or how Nicky has lost his confidence when it comes to facing off with Kevin. So he watches Andrew, ready to pick apart his performance like he has a microscope in his back pocket.

It’s after a pretty impressive deflection that Andrew’s step falters and Neil’s interest is piqued.

The goalkeeper stops and presses his palm to his ribs, his head down. The stance lingers for just long enough that Neil can tell that he can’t catch his breath.

Neil had never considered his ribs after the CPR. Did any of them break?

Andrew recovers and gives his racquet and experimental swing but Wymack sees the same thing Neil did and calls Andrew off the court.

After a hushed conversation and Andrew’s mumbled responses, he’s sat next to Neil on the bench and Neil knows that his coach is just feeling a little too happy with the forced proximity. Neil tenses and pulls away, careful not to brush shoulders with Andrew.

Andrew doesn’t look at him, just fiddles with his gloves and takes a few awkward breaths around the obvious pain in his chest.

Neil breaks the silence, a little too cocky however. “How are your ribs?” he asks.

“How’s your shoulder?” Andrew bites back.

A stalemate.

They sit in silence.

Neil moves back into the dorms that night.

Only having one operational hand does not make things easy but luckily he’s just got a duffel bag and a dream so it doesn’t take him too long even with the handicap.

Before long he’s sitting in a bean bag, chest heaving as he tries to breathe through muscle spasms working their way up and down his arm. Black spots are dancing in his vision and it takes all of his strength to will them away but not before he’s caught floundering.

“You’re not going to be back on the court in time for the game,” Andrew says coldly. Neil knows he doesn’t actually care about the game and is just saying it to get under Neil’s skin but it works.

“Yes, I am,” Neil grits out. He still can’t feel his fingers but he won't give Andrew the satisfaction of being right about anything.

“You’ve got eight days and you just lost a fight with a duffel bag,” he says simply. “You’re toast.”

“I’m fine,” Neil snaps as he sits up. The room tilts.

“You’re seeing stars,” Andrew objects.

Neil doesn’t bother replying to him as he nestles himself back into the bean bag. His arm is settling and he can breathe even now but that doesn’t make Andrew any less correct.

Maybe if he didn’t keep testing the limits of his shoulder he would be better suited to take to the court next Friday but he wasn’t used to slowing down. All he knew how to do was run and now that he couldn’t run the least he was going to do was fight.

“At least let me help you get into the top bunk,” Andrew says after a while. His voice an edge softer now.

“No.”

Andrew tilts his head. “Are you going to sleep there all night?”

“Yes.”

“That’s going to be so good for your busted shoulder.” The sarcasm is not lost on Neil but he can’t do much about it other than grit his teeth.

“I don’t need your pity,” he says.

“Good.” Andrew steps closer, he’s toe-to-toe with Neil now and looming over him. “Because you don’t have it.”

His wrapped arms are folded across his chest and he looks down his nose at Neil. His eyebrows are furrowed.

“What do you want from me?” Neil huffs, wishing he could cross his own arms in some sort of physical barrier between himself and Andrew. He doesn’t like to be so vulnerable when Andrew is always a half-second away from a blade. Maybe he’d plant one firmly in Neil’s fucked shoulder so that he’d never play again.

“I want to know why you’re so angry.”

“I’m always angry,” Neil says, his steely gaze meeting Andrew’s.

“No,” Andrew says, stepping closer so that he pins Neil’s socked toes under the edge of his shoe. “Not like this.”

He doesn’t say the next part but Neil hears it. Not at me.

Neil pulls his foot back into the body of the bean bag and out of Andrew’s grasp. Andrew’s face twitches but Neil doesn’t know what to make of it as the eyes bearing down on him do not waver.

Instead of backing down he poises to strike. “Why’d you do it?”

Something unreadable flashes across Andrew’s face but he steps closer. Neil is running out of space to retreat. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Another flash. This time in Neil. His hands. Shaking fingers under Andrew’s nose, wrenching his jaw open, thundering on his chest.

Andrew sees something on his face but Neil is watching the rise and fall of his chest. Not artificial this time, if Neil reaches out with his good arm his palm would feel the movement of it because of how close Andrew is standing to him.

Stupidly, he speaks. “You’re breathing.”

Andrew looks confused. “Of course I am.”

Something in Neil’s chest twists. It hurts as it pulls at his ribs and windpipe, bending and crushing his organs. “You weren’t.”

Andrew’s rage falters then. Maybe he’s clued onto the fact that behind Neil’s forced anger there’s just a smouldering pile of hurt. It stings and Neil swears Andrew can smell it.

“I’m sorry.”

That gives Neil pause. Apologies are few and far between when it comes to Andrew Minyard and Neil would enjoy it if it were even a modicum of what he wanted to hear.

“I don’t care.”

Hurt whips across Andrew’s usually impassive expression before it is replaced by a simmering rage. “What do you want from me?”

Neil doesn’t want anything from him, he wants to take his brain out and scrub it raw and bleeding until he can't remember Andrew's ribs bending under his palms. "I want you to never do it again.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that Andrew can read him like a book. “I-” his voice squeaks a little as it crawls out of his throat. “I won’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Andrew sinks to his knees in front of Neil and hovers a hand over Neil’s thigh. “Yes or no?” he asks.

No. Neil wants to say no. “Yes.”

It’s always yes when it comes to Andrew.

Andrew drops his palm softly onto Neil’s jeans and lets the weight of it sit there. “I don’t know why I did it,” head bowed, he won’t meet Neil’s eye, “but I won’t do it again.”

Preparing a scathing remark, any objection Neil had dies in his throat when Andrew looks up at him. There’s something in his face, if he were looking at anyone else there would be tears but Andrew doesn’t do that. He tried to kill himself and still he wouldn’t cry.

“I promise.”

And Neil believes him.

#all for the game #aftg fic #aftg #andriel #andriel fic #max.doc #please be nice to me

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stargirlwnchstr · 5 years ago

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I have a visual to share with y'all. Say welcome to my long ass 'The Foxes + tiktok' headcanon

@ nickythefox_es (part 1???)

Basically Nicky gets tiktok but all of the foxes show up eventually and just use his profile.

• Most of the videos are with nicky and allison, also matt and dan and occasionally neil.

• Allison and nicky learn so many dances.

• Their duet of make his pockets hurt with Mariah and Zane from the vlog squad is the first one to go v i r a l.

• Yeah most of their followers know them but some and a lot of the comments are non exy fans that just watch them because they're cool

• So many of the "what is exy" "stickball game??" "dont even bother explaining to me what is the sport they play I dont care I'm just here for neil." And related comments get a liked from creator (andrew told nicky to like them)

•The "Oh my god she's coming." "I'm so afraid of her." Audio are the twinyards and nicky shows up, he had to bribe them to be a part of that one.

• They post another version but it's Kevin that enters and Allison and Nicky talking

• So many comments thirsting over them and calling matt and dan parents

• "the real bisexual struggle is simping for matt and dan in the same tiktok." -> liked from creator nickythefox_es commented/replied: ASDGFKSSDWADKWB

• Someone makes a 'put a finger down: Neil Josten edition' and nicky drags him to do it. They both smile as they listen to the prompts and Neil obviously puts all his fingers down but they're like "put a finger down if you clapbacked/if you bad mouthed someone (bonus points if it was on national tv)" "put a finger down if you're under 6 feet" "put a finger down if you love exy" and the last one just says "put a finger down if andrew minyard." Neil does and smiles at someone off camera. Needless to say it goes viral as well. A few weeks after nicky gets verified.

• Allison becomes friends with thenavarose and wisdom sorry I dont make the rules (they're fashion tiktokers)

• They make a series of rating each of the foxes throughout the day, including one of Wymack.

• They do receive bad comments, from bitter ravens fans or just recalling their pasts and nicky sits down and makes a video telling everyone about how they do this videos for fun they dont need hate and negative comments on their videos and all that

• Then another one posted minutes after, neil comes in and nicky says "okay neil you have one minute. Rant off." And neil goes on this rant like how they already hit Rock bottom a single comment is not gonna hurt them and "do you get how insignificant and meaningless your lives must be? You took the time to write and post a comment that you thought was gonna cause an impact and failed. Also thanks for the comments though it helps nicky stay on the algorithm." NICKY SCREECHES AND THE VIDEO ENDS WITH THEM SMILING

• Allison vlogs neil and her going shopping or thrifting also cutting Neil's hair

• *neil walks into the room wearing his orange bandana* *camera moves and zooms on Andrew's face* he doesnt lip sync but the song sings "oh noo I think I'm catching feelings" andrew tells him to delete it "but it already has thousands of likes andrew"

• They post some of their work out routines per request

• One of them is the fast and "I'm spinning like a ballerina" chill of neil just running on the treadmill and doing sprints and squats and leg stuff while it cuts to allison doing a bit of everything but looking like a queen on a matching set.

• A fun one that goes viral for "vine energy" is: it's very quiet on the court and Kevin, very in the zone, throws the ball to the goal, which Andre's catches easily and almost without moving. The camera goes back to kevin as he screeches and let's himself fall on the ground. Neil is standing beside him shaking his head and looking at the goal with a smile on his face.

• They try to teach neil the dances but while filming one of them he just leaves. They post it either way.

• They're in the bus, nicky is on selfie mode and says "it is game day my dudes" he turns and shows the whole bus S C R E A M S, in the corner Wymack is covering his face.

• The iconic "they say drunk thoughts are sober words" or something like that and it cuts to a series of videos of the foxes drunk af. Example: Nicky grabbing Allison's face and saying 'Remember. Bread. Head. Leave.' And allison nodding.

• Nicky films kevin standing up and put the "do you ever wonder what is going on inside their head?" And it cuts to pictures of racquets and exy and Jeremy Knox and one that says history stuff.

• Another one that goes viral is kevin very seriously and p e r f o r m i n g, rapping Jefferson's side of the cabinet battle #1 from Hamilton then towards the end andrew stands up in front of him and with his iconic bored expression he starts rapping Hamilton's part. Behind the camera there's a soft "...oh my gOD" and kevin is shocked eyes widen open and then the camera zooms on Neil who's mouth is open in shock but GRINNING and ~impressed~

• Dan and matt do The challenge, you know the one that like has to flip them over and all that and they ace it, nicky points the camera to where andrew and neil are stating and Andrew says no.

• A few minutes later another video of the challenge is posted only this time is matt and neil.

• Nicky and allison are in full gear filming a dance video (maybe savage or captain hook) on the court and someone films them filming that and then Wymack looking at them SO disappointed cut to Wymack with nicky's phone, having confiscated it and nicky besides him "coach, it's cardio!"

• Hours spent trying trick shots

• Foxes: "get back! Move!" Ravens: "Let me in! I be the I g g y!" Trojans: "Oh my God do no let her in" Foxes: "I am trying!"

• Nicky lying down: "okay but someone needs to tell me how old is the shirtless pottery guy. I can't be part of another controversy. It's for science c'mon. *debby Ryan's*"

• Someone comments "he's eighteen. Simp away, nicky." And he makes a video with his feet swinging and smiling. Aaron gets on the frame and says "we are deeply in need of some bowls." The caption: hi @ papapots

• They are verified so obviously he gains a couple of thousands followers and he duets smiling and with a package in his arms. Text: thanks for the support (and hi new followers from sport side of tiktok hope you enjoy my pots) caption: hi @ nickthefox_es I got you aaron.

• After the package comes they duet it with nicky screaming and showing off the goods and then he moves stop show andrew eating ice cream out of one of them. Caption: AJSNEPWLDKSS THANK YOU DAX

• Allison and nicky do the "I love you!" "No you dont topper! You love the idea of me. You love being seen with me but you dont love me." But nicky is Sarah and allison is topper. Next day the obx ig page reposted it "we stan the psu foxes pogues for life." And chase stokes posts it on Twitter saying "yoo the palmetto foxes watch??? my show???" Nicky takes a screenshot and on green screen he says "hi chase!! We do! The whole team binged it. Currently we've been debating who of us is going to dress up as pogues for Halloween." A lot of voices start arguing and as nicky is gonna enter the debate the video cuts.

• Allison does the facetime *deep male voice says hey* prank on them. Neil doesnt react. Nicky doesnt look up from his phone but does the finger thing and says "get that d, allison!" Dan and renee look at each other and then at allison and she bursts out laughing.

• aaron studying to be a doctor: *two plus two is four etc sound* andrew (eating pretzels from the bag while watching a game show lying down in a bean bag) and his eiditic memory [basically not needing to study]: *three is a magic number sound*

• Nicky runs through the court and enters the lounge beside the photo wall there's a poster he shows the camera as the sounds says it "alive ahaha fuck"

• Somehow they convince all of them to show up and do the wipe it down trend that ends up with wymack throwing the towel at the mirror.

• Comment: so how many members of the team listen to girl in red or sweater weather? Nicky stands there with the color filter: 👁👄👁👉👈 caption: yes❤

• He gets neil to duet to the whole "british people be like". "Neil I'm not british." "Part of you is so just read the tweets." He does and the comments are all thirst and simping

• Comment: raise your hand if you've been victimized by neil josten. Where my fellow Simps at? (The comment gets hundreds of thousands of likes) they make a video, everyone on the team except aaron who walks out raises their hand as the sound says "welcome to simp nation" kevin rolls his eyes but raises his, says something that nicky captions "i simp over his exy skills". andrew doesn't at first, but next to him neil whispers something and after andrew says yes, neil grabs Andrew's forearm and raises it. Andrew looks away and neil smiles.

• Nicky lying down: okay but what if Jean moreau traded places with the french guy from here you know who, david.

• Comment "ugh your mind nicky" reply video: right? Big brain, many thoughts, head full all the time. But like actually the idea of david playing exy and Jean hanging out with ducks and making viral tiktoks just-

• Comment "i feel you and @ austincantdrive would make the best chaotic duo" reply: we would be too powerful together. Austin replies too: agree.

• Allison makes a sports jersey/comfy wear but make it fashion and she styles herself. Everyone on the comments d i e s for her.

• Comment "okay but what about the boys. help allison." She makes a video too with matt and nicky and at the end neil wears an orange crop top and the internet b r e a k s

• Comment "allison do you listen to girl in red?" video reply: her winking at the camera and lip syncing as sweater weather plays. The comments a lot of them liked by creator: a win for the girls (and the boys)

• Upperclassmen Back in 2003: okay but hey do we always have to be involved? Can we do normal stuff that normal people do, like, go for brunch? Us (aaron, andrew, kevin and me): what the fuck is brunch?

• Of course they do the mr blue sky trend. Nicky: drunkenly goes to flirt with a guy. Aaron: drunkenly follows to get away from kevin. Kevin: drunk on pure vodka reminds us we have practice in the morning.

• Or another one all of them. Neil: ready to insult a reporter. Dan: tries not to laugh on camera. Matt: gets ready to hug him afterwards Allison and Nicky: Filming everything. Wymack: the only one trying to stop it from happening and failing.

• Dan and matt duet their reactions to every video edit of them, smiling and saying "your parents love you guys!".

• Comment "literally what is wrong with the ravens/ravens fans?The foxes are such a nice group of people and they're doing great in the sport y'all worship just shut up you cult-y athletic hype house." video reply: "ladies and gentlemen. The volume inside of this bus is A S T R O N O M I C A L."

• comment video reply: okay so we're not gonna talk about nicky at the gym?? Bc C A K E. nicky lip syncing "I'm glad you brung it up because I've been dying to talk about this for a fucking hot minute. First of all-"

• Colin uses one of Neil's or Andrew's interviews replies as one of his sounds and nicky fanboys a lot

• Allison and nicky do the Kardashian sound compilation.

• Nicky with a picture of Erik on green screen: "hi I just wanna say if you look anything like this please contact me. Thank you." Caption: miss u baby. And Erik watches his tiktoks and he facetimes him immediately. Nicky takes a screenshot and duets his own video crying with the screenshot caption: SKALSBSKAJSL Erik comments: stop making tiktoks and answer the phone, hemmick. Nicky replies: yessir everyone below comments keyboard smashes and you got a good one. Goals. Lmao kids that's what we call bottom panic. We stan one healthy long distance relationship and after that a bunch of long distance relationship questions that he makes another video on.

• A video of Katelyn and neil chatting and it pans to the twins watching them with the *when worlds collide sound*

• He reposts a snippet of one of his interviews post game where he grabs the mic from the reporter and nicky: can I say something? Reporter: sure, go ahead. Nicky: thank you. *looks straight into the camera* all the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us. The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Thank you." And leaves. IT GOES VIRAL INSTANTLY.

• Comment "is everyone else gonna forget that tiktok where he said he was already part of a controversy? We stan a problematic icon?" Video reply: guys I might have been part of a whole Twitter beef thing against my little hoodie and Bruce hallway but c'mon, like, c'mon you can't blame me.

• Comment "for neil: does the carpet match the drapes 👅😍?" Video reply: neil on selfie mode. "Allison gave me her phone, told me to answer this and ran away so umm." He reads the box on the screen and frowns he walks and stands next to the window, where Andrew is sitting down and is barely seen on frame. "uhmm, the internet is confusing. Our carpet is like this" he turns the phone and shows the floor (grayish carpet) and then back at him "but we don't have drapes so, technically they don't match, I dont know." Andrew's head goes up and simply says "Neil." Neil turns "what?" And the video ends.

• of course nicky and allison do the WAP dance, on the court, when they should be running drills.

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wesawbears · 4 years ago

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I am a simple AFTG fan. I love Andrew, I love Jeremy. I think they should be friends. I write that.

Here’s my other Andrew and Jeremy friendship post, but it’s not necessary to read that first: x

For the most part, Andrew paid his teammates as much attention as one would give to a road sign. Enough attention to keep his job, to do what they need him to do, but he’s still not a team player, and making friends with inconsequential people is not on his immediate to-do list.

Jeremy Knox is slightly more interesting, if only for the fact that Kevin knows him, and according to him, he’s the only other person on Andrew’s team who has a chance of making Court. What’s more, Andrew likes to know who he’s dealing with, and the urge for leverage is one instinct he didn’t leave behind with his knives.

(Okay, so maybe he’s still a little bruised at just how many secrets Neil snuck past him.)

Still, he does his research on Knox. Raised in rural SoCal, captain of the Trojans for three years. Boring. Reputation for never getting a red card. Slightly more interesting. He hopes it isn’t insufferable morality, but that remains to be seen. He thought the same of Renee initially, and found something more substantive below. He was also a curiously private person, never indulging the press with his thoughts. He did know of the rumors that he was dating Jean Moreau, which was interesting if only because of Jean and Neil’s history.

He may not be able to take his teammates to Columbia, but he would get the answers he sought.

Conveniently, Knox was the one who he ended up rooming with for away games, seeing as he was the only one who still made the effort to speak to Andrew. The rest had clearly decided it wasn’t worth the extra effort. The first night, he learned that Knox stayed behind in order to be available to Moreau, which was an interesting confirmation if nothing else. He was tight lipped about everything else, leading to many quiet nights, which suited Andrew fine.

His next sign that Jeremy Knox might be more interesting than he appeared came near the end of the regular season. Their game was against Dallas, notorious for having an egregious number of ex-Ravens. Andrew took slightly more enjoyment than usual blasting their shots across the court, something he knew he’d get an exuberant earful from Neil about later. For now though, his sights were on the game.

It was unusual for his teams’ strikers to find themselves anywhere near Andrew, but Jeremy and one of Dallas’ dealers had managed to stay in a lock past midfield, until a hard shove sent Jeremy sprawling across the field. Andrew could see but not hear heated words exchanged once Knox stood. Andrew watched something dark and interesting flash across Knox’s face before he reeled back and decked his mark across the face.

A hush fell over the field as one by one everyone realized that Jeremy Knox was given his first red card and left the field.

Andrew leaned against the goal, face cool and unaffected, but mind moving.

By the time Andrew got back to the room, Jeremy was already there, and Andrew could hear his voice through the door. He stayed quiet and opted to stay outside to listen for a bit.

“I understand that...Look, I’m sorry that I worried you, and I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m not sorry for what I did...No. I’m not going to let them say whatever they want about you. Not when I know how far you’ve-...” A deep sigh. “Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow….I love you too.”

Andrew took that as a sign of the conversation’s end and headed inside. When he did, he saw Knox sitting on his bed, looking uncharacteristically annoyed. He attempted to perk up a bit when he saw Andrew.

“Hey. Sorry to keep you out of your room.”

Andrew shrugged off the apology and set his things down before sitting and looking at him. “Moreau?”

Jeremy nodded slowly, apparently surprised that Andrew was speaking to him. “Um, yeah.He was just worried after seeing the game.”

“So it was something about him that got you to crack.”

Jeremy’s jaw worked as he tried to come up with an answer to that. “Is it that surprising?”

“Be more specific.”

“That I have a temper.”

Andrew drummed his fingers against his knees. “Not surprising. Just interesting.”

“I’m happy to amuse then,” Jeremy answered, starting to turn away.

“It just means you aren’t as boring as the rest of our teammates.”

Jeremy didn’t seem to have a response to that either, so Andrew continued. “So much for those anger management classes.”

Jeremy’s mouth twisted. “Kevin wasn’t kidding. You do your research.”

Andrew waved a hand.. “It’s important to know where to push when necessary.”

“You don’t need to push. You could try asking.”

“I don’t need to ask when your motivations are so annoyingly obvious.”

Jeremy sighed. “I meant what I said when you joined. We don’t need to be enemies. Especially considering all we have in common.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, we’re both on the wrong side of a deal we didn’t make.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched at that. “Surprised Moreau told you about that.”

“Of course he did. We’re together, so it affects me. I’d be naive to not know that I’m who they would come after if they wanted to hurt him.”

“Yet you chose him anyway.” Andrew heartily ignored the hypocrisy in his statement.

“I did. I’m too stubborn to let them tell us what we can and can’t do. At least this way I can say I didn’t run away.”

Andrew turned finally, satisfied with the answers he’d gotten tonight. He had plenty of time to learn more.

Jeremy started turning away after a few moments of silence, only perking up when Andrew had one last thing to say.

“If you’re going to be any use, you need to learn to punch better than that.”

Jeremy smiled slightly. “Out of practice.”

Andrew hummed, effectively ending the evening’s conversation.

It was a fascinating experience for both parties.

#aftg #andrew minyard #jeremy knox #tfc #all for the game

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codename-adler · 4 years ago

Text

foxes + onesies (9/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Kevin

every Fox has bad days

some bad days begin with a specific feeling

when Andrew feels ghost hands as he wakes up, when he feels his body too tight for his bones, or hid bones too big for his body

when Neil feels every sound like a knife to his skin, when the scars on his face feel like phantom pains, when he feels a grown man moves too fast, too close to him

when Allison feels jeans cling too much to her thighs, when her shirt brushes too much on her abdomen, when she feels the food she ate resting in her stomach

some bad days begin with a specific date

when it’s the anniversary of Tilda’s death, and Aaron cannot be in the same room as Andrew, no matter how far they’ve come

when it’s the anniversary the Boyds’ divorce, and Matt can’t leave Dan’s side for one second, no matter how strong their relationship is

when it’s the anniversary of Mary’s death, of Evermore, of Nathaniel’s last birthday, of Baltimore, and Neil can’t take a single look at himself in the mirror, no matter how many times Andrew worships his face with his mouth and his fingers

or, when it’s the anniversary of Kayleigh Day’s death, and nobody remembers, not even Wymack, and Kevin is all alone with this grief that is other, unlike any other he carries everyday, unlike anything he can compare to, and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore

Kevin vividly remembers that day, and he sees it luring around the corner as August approaches

but this time, there is no more Riko to worry about, no more mafia to be scared of, no more Ravens to antagonize him, no more Master to punish him for even attempting to grieve every year

and no more alcohol to make him forget

Kevin quit drinking the day they won championship, they day Riko was killed died

it’s been a year and a half, now, and Kevin still wants to drink the minute things get hard mentally

(it’s also been a year and a half since the Foxes started getting onesies, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, and only Allison remembers that summer where it all started)

so when Kevin enters his bad days, his bad weeks, the Foxes are used to his mood swinging back and forth between Queen of Assholery and Feral Fox

but Kevin isn’t

he isn’t used to feeling all of this, to always think, and think, and think, until everything inside his head is as loud as the outside, until it’s all too much

yet he’s still expected to go on

still supposed to function, to perform, to be a decent human being when he’s not even sure he even feels human anymore

and so when Kevin snaps, the Foxes are supposed to be used to it

they’re not

nobody is

it’s summer practice

the 9 Foxes came in early, before the two new recruits arrive

Kevin is in the middle of yelling at Neil, who is very much yelling back at him

there’s that moment very full of testosterone where each of them throw away their gloves and helmets and sticks

they’re an inch from each other’s face and then Kevin suddenly… stops

he completely stops

his face goes blank, his feet move him back, his arms go slack

he looks at Neil, and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could find an answer to a question he doesn’t know he’s asking

Neil, who has never learned to watch his mouth after all the trouble it got him into, keeps tearing into Kevin

Kevin keeps backing up and Neil keeps pushing further

but apart from his backwards movement, Kevin doesn’t react

pure apathy doesn’t suit him nearly as well as it did Andrew

the other Foxes are so silent, that between two of Neil’s breaths, they can all hear him whisper

“Stop.”

but Neil doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t want to

it gets so out of control, even Wymack has to step in, on the court, when he sees Kevin so unresponsive

it gets so bad, eventually Neil, too, stops his yelling and just looks at Kevin

and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could understand the question Kevin is asking an answer for with his pleading, green eyes

“Stop… Just- stop. I can’t- anymore… “

Kevin shakes his head and looks at the floor as hatred and hurt grip his guts

he takes another step back

suddenly he jerks his head back up and looks at Neil

“I hate you. God, I hate all of you.”

he looks at all his Foxes

then leaves

Kevin Day leaves the court

behind his back, he doesn’t see Matt holding back a furious yet teary-eyed Dan

he doesn’t see Renee leaving her goal to join Andrew’s side, her big racquet blocking his way

he doesn’t see Nicky putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezing in empathy

he doesn’t see Allison throwing away her racquet against the plexiglass wall with all that she’s got, fuming and hiding her tears

he doesn’t see Wymack matching over to Neil, a whole speech ready to give Neil his piece of mind

and he certainly doesn’t see Aaron collapsing to the ground, his hands holding his head and gripping his hair, his breaths shallow, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes dry yet red-rimmed

but from behind Kevin’s back, none of them see him either

they can’t see him losing his breath as he starts running away

they can’t see him clenching and unclenching his left hand

and they certainly can’t see him crying

the week that follows is undeniably tense between all the Foxes

that week also coincides with a lot of events

there’s the new Foxes’ arrival

there’s the start of classes

there’s the mandatory psych session with Betsy before Exy season starts

and there’s August 27th

Mom’s accident

Kevin remembers the day vividly, he truly does

he remembers because the week of the accident, he was supposed to start school for the first time, on September 1st

he had picked his outfit for the first day, he had new red Exy-themed shoes, he had even planned the lunch he wanted to have that day in his lunchbox (spaghetti squash casserole. yeah, weird kid.)

on August 27th, Mom didn’t come home

on August 27th, he went to the Moriyama property

on August 27th, he settled into a weirdly well-accommodated room that fit both him and Riko

on September 1st, he woke up with Riko and they prepared for their first day

on September 1st, Kevin wore his planned outfit, put on his red shoes

on September 1st, Kevin did not have spaghetti squash casserole

she left him nothing but an aversion for squash, red shoes, and Exy

which brings us as to why, on August 27th, as all the team is mandated to talk an hour with Betsy Dobson, Kevin Day volunteers to go first (with Aaron volunteering to go second and be the designated driver for the pair)

none of the Foxes have really talked to Kevin since the previous week’s outburst

Kevin has no other outlet for this painful day

it’s either talk to Betsy, or ruin 496 days of sobriety with one vodka bottle

the only words exchanged between Kevin and Aaron, on the drive to Reddin Medical Center, are, surprisingly, from Kevin

“Somebody should get you a new goddamn car.”

he doesn’t elaborate further than that, but Aaron looks at him strangely

his car really is garbage, though

once arrived at their destination, Kevin doesn’t wait for Aaron and bursts in Betsy’s office without warning

it takes at least half an hour of Betsy talking before Kevin gives up his silence

everything was already there, he just had to open his mouth and let his words fall

Kevin: I’ve been sober for 496 days. I’ve been thinking about my Mom’s anniversary for the past few weeks. That’s today, now. And last Friday, I told Neil, then the whole team, that I hated them. Care to unpack that for me?

Betsy: I can help you sort some things out, of course, Kevin. But this is your baggage. I’m afraid I can’t do this without your help. Why don’t you tell me more about this hatred you feel towards your teammates?

Kevin: I dont. Hate them. I don’t… I hate what they do to me. How they treat me. Their double standards. How they forget, how they dismiss. Mind you, I’m well aware of my asshole status. I know I am. But them… they’re… they’re mean. Vicious. They cut and stab and don’t care about what’s underneath. They don’t care that I helped them get the title of Champions. They don’t care that I was there every step of the way, that I was right there beside them when we played the Ravens, when we won. They don’t care that Riko died, that he once broke my hand, that I was legally kidnapped, that I went through hell and still lived to walk on my own two feet. They don’t care that I, too, once had a mom. They don’t care that my Mom died. They don’t care. To them, I’m still just a cunt. It’s unbearable. They don’t give a shit and I’m so, so tired, Betsy. I’m not asking for much. I just want… I want- I want them to let me breathe. I want them to realize that, I’m just like them. I’m a Fox. I’m a Fox as much as they are. I wake up everyday, and feel all this weight on my shoulders, in my stomach, on my heart, but I carry on anyways, and I don’t know why, but I do, just like them. Is that so hard to grasp? Is that so hard to accept? What am I doing wrong, Betsy?

Betsy: Oh, Kevin…

the rest of the session passes in a blur

Kevin talks about how every time he takes a photograph, he thinks of Kayleigh, of how brightly she smiles in all the photos Wymack has of her, of how he wishes he could take pictures of her with his own camera

Kevin talks about how every strong woman in the Irish folklore he reads about wears Kayleigh’s face

Kevin talks about how he thought Thea had been a bit like her, and how, in the end, she hadn’t been at all, she was her own woman, a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love, and how he thought he had lost a bit of Kayleigh again when they separated

Kevin talks

he talks

and Betsy listens

when his time is up, Kevin’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness

he lets Aaron in as he decides to take a run back to Fox Tower

his mind tries to guilt him into going back to the court, but between facing the Foxes after that and isolating himself in his dorm, Kevin knows what’s best for him

he is only disturbed in the late evening, when Wymack enters the dorm

even Neil, Andrew and Nicky hadn’t come back yet

Kevin knows something is wrong

Wymack isn’t supposed to be here

Wymack: Day… Listen, son.

Kevin sits up on his bed

Wymack: Argh, I’ll cut the bullshit. It’s Abby. There’s been an accident. Her car’s fucking scrap metal now. She was brought to the hospital 45 minutes ago, I just got the call. She’s going into surgery. We’ll all visit her in the morning.

Not again

Not Abby

What the fuck is this life?

Wymack: Number Seven wants to see you now. Don’t ask me why, I don’t wanna know. I’ll let her in, don’t make me regret this. Sleep good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.

he opens the door, takes one last look at Kevin’s tense form, and leaves as Allison comes in

she’s wearing her giraffe onesie tied at the waist, with an oversized WALKER 09 t-shirt

she stands in front of Kevin until he looks up at her

Allison: Scoot over. We’re watching The Crown.

and Kevin, dumbfounded, lets her and moves

he finds himself quite intrigued by the storyline, enough to only worry about Abby with his fingers, fiddling with one of the giraffe’s horns

after the third or fourth episode, Allison starts to talk, eyeing Kevin’s fingers playing with her onesie

Allison: Wanna know the latest gossip? Even Andrew has a onesie, now. God, I can’t believe this is a sentence that exists. Andrew Minyard owns a fucking onesie. Do you know what that makes you?

Kevin stays silent, eyes fixed somewhere not quite on Ally’s laptop screen

Allison: That makes you the only Fox without one.

Kevin: Oh, so now I’m a Fox? Didn’t seem that way earlier. Or, like, ever.

the dealer chooses her next words very carefully

Allison: Just because we hadn’t seen it yet, just because we were too busy stuffing our heads up our asses, doesn’t mean you weren’t a Fox… I know, I know. Hard to feel like one when the others give you shit non-stop. Been there, done that. And now I’ve done it to you, too, and I’m… Sorry. We’re dysfunctional, there’s no changing that. But- We can do better. We’ll try, promise. I think you’ve made quite an impression on Betsy today, ‘cause we all received a good talk from her during our sessions. I mean, don’t expect Andrew running in to apologize, but, you know… Something about Betsy turning severe makes you re-evaluate your life choices. We’ll do better, Day.

Kevin looks at her, then

really looks at her

and nods

yet just as he turns his attention back to the screen, Allison leaves the Netflix page and googles “onesie adult”

Kevin: Oh, no. Absolutely not. Nope.

Allison: Oh, yes, yes, yessss!

but then, of course, there’s a knock at the door, and Allison gets up, opens the door, lets the person in, whispers something, and leaves

just like that

and oh

It’s Aaron

Aaron: So… Allison tells me you’re finally getting yourself one of those stupid pajamas too?

Kevin: I am not. What are you doing here anyway? The others will be back soon, I assume.

Aaron: Well, it’s my shift…

Kevin: Your what now?

Aaron: No, it’s not like that! We just… We thought you’d want some space because of… today… But then Abby… We didn’t want you to be alone.

Kevin: Really. Who’s “we”?

Aaron: The proud Palmetto State Foxes’ Exy team. All of them. You know, Dan, Matt, Renee, Allison, Andrew and Neil, Nicky… Me.

once again, Kevin can’t help but stare, deeply surprised

Aaron: Andrew and the others will be back for the whole night, but for now, it’s my turn. I wanted to take the first “watch”, but Allison said she had business to do with you. And I’m not getting in the way of that woman.

Kevin honest-to-God snorts

Kevin: If by “business” she meant bullying me into buying this onesie shit, then you should have gotten in her way. I’m not doing that. It’s fucking dumb.

Aaron: Hey!

Kevin: Aaron Minyard, don’t tell me you’ve participated in this madness…

Aaron: So what if I have? It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I got one. And you don’t. So really, who’s dumb here?

Kevin: What is it??

Aaron: Not telling you.

Kevin: C’mon…

Aaron: Nope. You can’t bribe me. I’m not telling you shit. However, what I can telling you, is that it feels kinda wrong that we all have a pajama and you don’t…

Kevin: Oh my God, fine! What did the others get?

Aaron: Well, besides Ally’s giraffe, we got a tiger, a dinosaur, a teddy bear, you’ve seen Nicky’s unicorn nonsense, and I’m not quite sure about Andrew’s… Oh, and Neil’s is a fox, obviously. That predictable dumbass.

Kevin: Okay, well, I want a fox too.

Aaron: No, Kevin, you can’t.

Kevin: What? Why not!?

Aaron: Because. Neil’s already got a fox. Do you want to be a copycat AND a predictable dumbass?

and so until 1 AM, Kevin and Aaron bicker about each of Kevin’s suggestions (a Palmetto Foxes onesie, a USC Trojans onesie, an Irish-themed onesie, a white fox onesie, a gray fox onesie, and so on…)

when Andrew, Neil and Nicky come back into the dorm, Kevin’s almost laid all the way down on his bed, his head resting on Aaron’s elbow, as Aaron is sitting right next to him, laptop propped on a pillow and his fingers scrolling away

Aaron looks at Andrew, sighs, and looks at Kevin

they nod to each other, before Aaron gets up to go back to his dorm

Kevin sits up correctly when Aaaron is gone and Andrew approaches

Kevin pretends not to notice and googles one more idea, “brown fox onesie”

as he scrolls down and down and down, Andrew looks over his shoulder

and points at one picture

Andrew: That one. Now go to bed. We’re getting up at ass-o’clock tomorrow.

for the third time this evening, Kevin is shocked

he does look at Andrew’s pick attentively, though, and decides to go with it

that night, even if images of Abby covered in blood plague him for at least an hour, Kevin falls asleep to the memory of Aaron’s skin against his cheek, which somehow translates into dreams of Kayleigh resting both her hands on his cheeks as they sit in a field of wildflowers

a couple of weeks later, Kevin doesn’t tell the team his onesie has arrived

but he is forced to admit it when, for Halloween, they organize a huge party for themselves only, where they decided to wear their pajamas as costumes for the night

Kevin feels so stupid in his outfit

he even had to buy a LARGE because he’s so fucking tall

but it still feels… comfy… warm… not so bad…

maybe this can work for him…

it’s only when he steps into the girls’ living room that a problem arises

Aaron: What the fuck is this.

Kevin: Hum… A brown fox? Technically, Neil’s is orange, so you can’t shit on me!

Aaron: That- That’s not a fox, Kevin! What the fuck.

Kevin: Okay, well what are you then?? A mutant mouse?

Aaron: What are you- Oh my God, you don’t know what Pokemons are.

with that, Aaron turns around and yells for his twin

Aaron: ANDREW JOSEPH FUCKING MINYARD. YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU BASTARD.

he storms off yelling

Kevin only reunites with Aaron at the end of the night, on the girls’ balcony, both sober

Kevin: You know, for someone who pushed me so much to do this stupid thing, you’re not being very nice about it. I know you wanted me to be “original” or whatever, but it’s not like I look like Neil! Why are you so upset?

Aaron: Kevin. It’s not a fox.

Kevin: Oh for God sake’s Aaron, you-

Aaron: It’s a Pokemon, Kevin. They’re like little monsters, kind of, and it’s a videogame, but there’s anime, manga, and collectible cards and… I used to- I used to collect those. Before. I lost them, now, but see this? This is one of them. It’s the main Pokemon, actually. His name’s Pikachu.

Kevin: Okay… Who am I, then?

Aaron: You… You’re Eevee.

Kevin: And what’s “Eevee”…?

Aaron: Pikachu’s girlfriend.

and oh.

Oh.

Kevin: Andrew didn’t tell me… The little fucker. I thought- Sorry. I didn’t mean to be another pawn in one of Andrew’s little games. Why did he do that to you?

Aaron: I think you know why.

Kevin looked at Aaron

Aaron looked at Kevin

Kevin: Fuck.

Aaron: Yeah, that.

Kevin: What?

Aaron: Nothing!

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin slowly invaded Aaron’s space until his back touched the railing, and placed one hand on each side of the backliner

Aaron looked up at Kevin

Kevin looked down at Aaron

Kevin: Okay?

Aaron: Okay.

and Kevin grabbed Aaaron by the hoodie of his pajama, and pulled him close, closer, closer, closer, until their lips met, at last

it was a long-awaited kiss, a careful kiss, a kiss of home and yes and oh and warmth and safe

Kevin reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on top of Aaron’s, knowing they have very little time before the other Foxes found them snogging on the balcony like a goddamn cliché

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin: I’m gonna ask you something stupid, and you can’t punch me for it, okay?

Aaron: Fine, okay.

Kevin: Do you want to be the Pikachu… to my Eevee?

Aaron: YOU FUCKING MORON!

and with that, Kevin burst out laughing, as if the Foxes’ attention wasn’t already on them the second Aaron started yelling

Allison and Matt knowingly started whooping with their beers raised for a toast

Dan was facepalming hard, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless

Renee smiled her genuine, angelic smile while clapping Nicky on the back as he choked on his drink

Neil, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with contentment

and Andrew. Andrew had no reaction at all. at all.

he was looking at his nails, no knife in sight, no fucks given

which, in Andrew’s language, meant everything

and so that October 31st was one for the books, the books about the good days, the good feelings, the good memories

because the Foxes had those, too

Kevin Day had good days

Aaron Minyard had good days

Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker had good days

Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd had good days

Nicky Hemmick had good days

Neil Josten had good days

even Andrew Minyard had good days

God knows they deserve them

these onesies, as silly, as stupid, as corny, as childish as they may be, were a proof of that

a proof that the Palmetto State Foxes could be better, could do better, and could get better

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andrew-minyards-bitch · 4 years ago

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Foxes and presentation night

So Allison offhandedly mentioned wanting to do a little presentation night and of course Dan and Renee immediately hopped in

They tell the other foxes and no one was really against it, not even Andrew which surprised everyone

Now comes presentation week and Matt is freaking out because he doesn’t know what to do his slides on

Dan helps him out, assuring him that this is just for fun and he shouldn’t be stressing out about it (also because like who’s taking this srsly?)

Day of the presentation and Andrew, Allison, Matt and Renee are shopping for some little snacks and onesies for the night

Aaron, Dan, Kevin, Nicky and Neil are in the dorms trying their darn hardest to cook food (this fails spectacularly seeing as none of them had good family life)

The others get back from shopping and as soon as the car parked on the lot they could hear a beeping alarm sound

“Please tell me it wasn’t the others who’ve caused that”

“Keep wishing Matt and maybe it’ll come true”

“Renee your enthusiasm is clearly misplaced if you think the jerks we left at home are capable of cooking so I wouldn’t put my words for it”

“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Andrew but yeah he’s right”

The students at said college were familiar with the foxes’ mischief and did not run out the building in terror (maybe it’s because finals were getting to them and they couldn't care if they got set on fire)

“Did you guys get the snacks?”

“Of course, why’d you think we went out for?”

“Andrew your sarcasm is very much appreciated”

“Glad to know captain” (mock salute)

Night comes and the foxes change to their fox onesies and all gather in a big circle with a projector in the middle

Andrew and Neil are sitting together and are touching hands (they hold hands halfway through the presentation and Neil does that little thing where his thumb rubs Andrew’s hands)

Kevin and Aaron are on a beanbag (aaron’s on kevin’s laps and kevin has his arms around aaron’s waist while aaron is twiddling with kevin’s hands)

Nicky, Dan, Matt, Renee and Allison are sitting on the couch

Dan volunteers to go first

Reasons why team building exercises are necessary: (read: how to consider others feelings/emotions)

1. Therapy

“oh come on! I’ve had five of those” “Andrew has had too many lmaoooo” “shut up! Nicky”

Next is allison

How to cover up scars/basics of makeup

“Neil’s gonna need this one” “So did you Aaron” “Andrew not you talking as though you were faring any better” “and this is why we need therapy” (dan is tired)

Neil did his slides solely to piss off Aaron

Broken bones and how to heal them

“Istg if any of y’all listen to this idiot’s advice” “he’s had experience!” “yeah but who’s the medical student here Allison? Yeah, that’s right me!”

Nicky comes in with that is your close friend gay?

“Nicky you know damn well none of us in this room can be considered straight” “yes my dear Renee but here are factors of a gay b-”

1. “I went to starbucks and got…” this person is straight

2. “I got boba and/or I want boba” this person is the furthest thing from straight

“Why’s he right though??” “Oh my god!”

Reasons why Neil should sign these adoption papers

“MATTHEW DONOVAN BOYDD, why the hell do you have adoption papers at the ready!?” “But Dannn” “no”

The things humanity could have achieved if the Alexandria Library wasn’t burnt

1. Avoid war of 1812 (this was literally just America feeding their man’s egos)

2. Hanging garden of babylon was real and I will not hear a words against it

3. Reduction of men’s audacity

“Kevin woke up today and chose to state facts 💅”

Different types of Knives and when to use them

“I’d expect this from Andrew not Renee” “ I know, just go along”

“You’re a blessing, I will definitely be using this new information” “Neil!” “What? It is good information”

How many shots I’m gonna need to go to bed with you (excluding nicky and andrew):

And finally,, Andrew’s

Things I’ll do to make your day a little bit worse

1. Kevin (I’d just leave him in a store or something, he doesn’t have a car either so that helps)

2. Dan (I’ll block goal and make sure none of y’all ever score)

3. Renee (ignore you, leave you on read)

4. Allison (buy Neil some clothes before you get the chance”

“Do it I’ll claw your balls off”

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #tfc #kevin day #neil josten #aaron minyard #kevaaron #andreil #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #matt boyd #renee walker

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simonsrosebud · 5 years ago

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Ok I love kalton so much I need to know: how does dalton take care of Kevin when he's being all moody like he often is? How does Kevin repay the favor when Dalton has a bad day? Kalton has legitimately improved my mood the past few days I love what you've been doing here <3<3<3

at first i read this as “how does he take care of him” as in like when they’re sick but this prompt is so much better

dalton has two sisters. younger sisters. that being said, he knows how to deal with moody children and teenage girls.

kevin isn’t either of those, but when he’s in a mood it’s not far off.

today, he’s pissed off.

he can’t help it. they only have four freshmen this year, none goalies, and andrew decided to fuck with him at practice. renee and neil had their appointments with betsy, and andrew refused to step on the court.

and since neil wasn’t there to get him back on, they had no goalie’s to practice on.

andrew knew kevin was leading today’s practice with reading goalie’s movements and shooting on the goal and he deliberately fucked it up on purpose. by the time neil and renee rejoin them practice is already over.

dalton is picking him up from the stadium, and when he pulls up kevin is shouting at andrew, who looks unbothered. “-here for! you can’t keep pulling this shit over and over just because you’re fucking bored! you think they’re going to tolerate it in ur pros?! all i fucking wanted was one practice, andrew! that’s it!” and then neil says something he can’t hear, but it prompts a shouting match between him and kevin in french. hands waving and balled fists at their sides.

and dalton knows better. knows not to get involved and to just wait until they’re done. so when kevin spits the last word and throws up his middle finger after turning away he starts the car up again.

kevin doesn’t talk the whole car ride, and when they get inside dalton cracks. “i don’t know what happened today, but if you don’t want to talk it out then either go take another shower or put your sneakers back on.”

kevin looks over, and after a minute he sighs and laces up his shoes.

now he’s annoyed his boyfriend. he doesn’t want to face andrew and neil yet.

except dalton doesn’t take him home. he leads him to the ground floor of the building where the gym is. he grabs gloves from a shelf, tosses them at kevin, and points to the punching bag across the room.

“i wanna spend my day with my boyfriend, not his alter ego. the bag’s name is andrew.”

kevin huffs, and pulls his hoodie over his head. he drops it to the ground to put the gloves on, and trudges over to the bag. “come on, kev. you’re pouting like my sister does when she’s not allowed to sleep over her boyfriend’s.” kevin starts up and dalton goes to stand on the other side of the bag. no one else is in the gym, otherwise he’d think twice before taking his shirt off. “need incentive? if you’re moody the rest of the day you’re not allowed to sleep over your boyfriend’s, either.”

kevin goes at the punching bag like it’s his job. he hates to admit that it makes him feel better. and when dalton pulls him away from it to kiss him it doesn’t hurt.

after he’s showered back at the apartment, he invades dalton’s space and lays his head on his lap. “sorry for being a bitch earlier.”

it makes dalton laugh. “you had a bad day, everyone has bad days. so long as we know how to handle it.”

kevin shrugs. “yeah.” he tells him about why he was so mad, and takes a deep breath. “i know he does it to get under my skin and it works.”

when dalton gets annoyed at something he tends to say so right when he walks in. he drops his bag inside the door and toes his shoes off. “some of my students are fucking dicks.”

kevin’s doing homework on the sofa, but discards it when his boyfriend climbs into his lap. “what’d they do?”

dalton groans into his chest. his voice is muffled by kevin’s hoodie. “only half of them did the homework assigned last week, and one kid sent me an email today that said like ‘this class fucking sucks no one cares about blah blah blah do you wanna skip on wednesday’, he meant to send it to his friend in the class.” he sits up. “i try to make it fun for them. it’s a gen-ed class so i know the majority of them are just taking it to get it over with, but i-i see so many of them wearing exy shirts from time to time and being interested in it so i try to talk exy- you know, oh, anyone go to the game this weekend and stuff like that, but they don’t care.”

kevin puts his hands on dalton’s cheeks and squishes them together. it makes him smile for a moment, but he falls into kevin’s lap again. “is there anything i can do?”

dalton shrugs. that’s a no.

but kevin gets a little hung up on it, because he gets that those kids don’t like math but he also is on dalton’s side on principle. instead, on friday, when the team all wears their jerseys to classes and such as per tradition, he gives dalton his away jersey to wear. “i didn’t know the exy team did that.”

he shrugs. katelyn wears aaron’s, and allison used to wear seth’s jacket over her own jersey. “not really. most of the relationships on the team are within the team.”

so dalton wears it, and ten minutes before his class kevin decides to use his clout and show up to the class with two coffees. dalton lights up when he sees him walk through the doors. “well this is unprecedented.”

kevin notices a few students perk up at his presence, and when more filter in they all kind of subtly stare at the two. kevin just leans against dalton’s desk while he sets up. when he goes to pass kevin, he grabs his wrist and pulls him back a little. “hey. some kids hate this class because they hate the class. not you.”

dalton’s smiling, but he raises his eyebrows. “you know they’ll still hate the class even with you here.”

“let them, but as soon as i leave, they’re going to be kiss asses.” and dalton wants so badly to kiss that smug smirk off his face, but his students are all here and waiting.

“i’ve got a class to teach, mr. day.”

“fine.” kevin kisses his cheek, dalton sends him a look, and walks head held high to the door. “you’re coming to the game, d, yes?” dalton’s cheeks are furiously red. he always comes to the games, he doesn’t even need to ask.

“bye, kevin!”

dalton jumps on kevin when he gets back to the apartment. “you’re a pain in my ass.”

“i was right, though, wasn’t i?”

dalton mocks his words right back at him, and kisses him into the sofa.

#kevin #kevin day #bisexual kevin day #OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is #exy #aftg #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #neil josten

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dayurno · 5 years ago

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i had time and got inspired by most lovely @daystens post about andreil dynamics + kevin so here is a (short?) kandreil fic about (soft?)butcher!neil, kevin as his husband and andrew as kevin’s bodyguard.

tw for nothing that’s not excessive tenderness for no reason

The casino is loud, overly pompous and way too bright for the money men that frequent it, though Andrew doesn’t mind it much.

He is not allowed in the table where the money is exchanged from wrinkly hand to wrinkly hand, anyways — safety measures, Neil says, it’s better if they don’t see your face. A proper enough excuse, Andrew supposes, but still an inevitably boring rule to follow.

If he were to be honest — and he is, more often than not, even at the expense of his own job — it’s not Andrew, exactly, who is not allowed: it’s Kevin that can’t be near them, and Andrew goes wherever Kevin goes, which means that he is banned from watching Neil’s business go down by assimilation. Kevin doesn’t seem to enjoy their stay either, sitting in perfect posture on the seat next to Andrew with a bored look to his features and a fidget to his long fingers, the picture of dissatisfaction.

Andrew knows his every tell now, from the soft furrow of his eyebrows to the pursing of his lips, and it’s an odd feeling: one look at Kevin is all it takes for him to know that he is bored out of his mind and probably missing Neil, who is the reason why he is bored in the first place. Foolish, foolish Neil — always pulling all the stops for Kevin’s safety, however extreme such measures can be, everything to assure that not a strand of Kevin’s pitch black hair will be touched. Andrew never thought he’d understand them, but he does know, if only because of how much time he spends in their presence, watching their married banter and the way Neil’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he thinks no one is paying attention.

A soft couple is what they are. Andrew knows how important his job is to Neil’s empire, and is paid accordingly.

But being Kevin Day’s bodyguard is simultaneously the most boring and most interesting job Andrew could’ve had gotten himself: in one hand, Kevin is the brightest jewel in the Butcher of Baltimore’s royal crown, meaning that his safety (and, painstakingly, happiness) is above every other thing under Heaven — in another, when Kevin is not receiving combat training from Renee, he is sitting around in his apartment with a face mask on and trying to convince Andrew that the best Golden Girl is Sophia when Andrew knows very well that it’s Dorothy. The life Neil leads and the life Kevin leads are very different, and Andrew is involved neck-deep in both.

Andrew would think that a year would be enough time for him to learn how to live with America’s most jarring sweethearts, but the truth is that he still doesn’t quite know what to do with himself at their tenderest moments: more than once he’s seen Kevin drape himself over Neil during one of these casino events — the reason he was banned from staying in their table in the first place, since people started to ask questions and Neil’s one goal in life is to make sure none of his frenemies know about Kevin’s existence at all —, and Andrew never knew where to look or put his hands during those times.

It was easier when Kevin leant against Andrew’s shoulder, because then Andrew knew what to do. Not many people from Neil’s empire were allowed to even touch Kevin — a rule he later came to learn wasn’t made out of possessiveness from Neil’s part, but genuine discomfort from Kevin’s —, yet Andrew had been given clear green lights from the Butcher himself to engage in any sort of touch as long as it is consensual, a get-go Andrew refuses to think about on the principle that he does not want to know how far he is allowed to go with the Butcher of Baltimore’s lover, no matter how many times he finds himself wondering just how long his leash really is.

And, anyways, Kevin is… Odd. Andrew finds him odd, at least, on the accord that he is violently passionate about one too many things, hand-to-hand combat (As a sport! Kevin often corrects him, as a sport, Andrew!) being one of them. Not that Andrew would ever be allowed to fight him on a rink: no one but Renee Walker had that privilege, and Andrew suspects it’s because Neil trusts her to never raise a hand in Kevin’s direction that hadn’t been explicitly consented to. Either way, it was odd that Kevin even engaged in anything but living the lavish life at all — not only did he have access to Neil’s unlimited protection, he also had the right to every dollar bill made out of his empire, which meant Kevin could not work a day in his life and still live luxuriously until the day he died. If Andrew were him, he’d given up on trying to lead a normal life long ago.

So, yes: Odd. Pretty, but odd. So is Neil. They were both incredibly odd people whose quirks were only halfway justified by the lifestyle that they led, and whose life Andrew hadn’t meant to be so intertwined in.

“Andrew,” Kevin calls in his whining tone, yet another complaint Andrew can’t do anything about. “Can’t we leave? Neil is not even paying attention to us. Why are we here?”

“To you,” Andrew corrects him, “he is not paying attention to you, as you are the one that is married to him, not I. And we are here because you wanted to go out tonight.”

Kevin slumps on his chair, pillowing his head with his crossed arms and focusing all of his attention on Andrew. “I wanted to do something fun. You know, fun? I’m sure you know. We have fun all the time.”

“Don’t be inappropriate.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Kevin accuses, squinting at Andrew through dark eyelashes. “Andrew, come on. This is so boring.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “If you fall asleep, I am not carrying you to the car.”

“Yes, you are, as that is your job,” he replies easily, though with no bite to it. “And, anyways, you can’t: I’m a foot taller than you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “And?”

“And you can’t carry me.”

“Neither can your husband.”

“And?” Kevin repeats.

Andrew crosses his arms. “You are particularly annoying today. It can’t be that it is just because you miss him.”

Kevin muffles a scoff against the sleeve of his suit. “I’m tired and sore. Renee kept me up until the late night yesterday. You would know if you hadn’t fallen asleep.”

Ah, yes: Kevin is not only the bane of his existence, but extremely clingy. Andrew finds that he doesn’t really mind, but it’s still funny — no amount of attention is enough for the Butcher’s husband, surely. “Have a nap, then,” Andrew replies, unmoved. “We will be here for a long time.”

He huffs. “Almost every single person in this room has a reason to kill me.”

“And yet,” Andrew points out, “they will not lay a single finger on you, as I will not let them.”

Kevin studies him for a second before eventually humming in agreement. He pulls himself up, raking a hand through his hair, before turning to Andrew. “Yes or no?” he asks, pointedly staring at Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

He shifts to lean his head against Andrew’s shoulder, a careful touch until Andrew presses an undemanding hand to the back of his head to get Kevin to relax. When he does, Andrew pulls his hand away and shifts on his seat to give him better access, crossing his arms as he scans the crowd. Taking care of Kevin is one thing, but taking care of a sleeping Kevin was another — even Andrew could admit it flared up his protective senses, the ones that have less to do with the fact that this is his job and more to do with the way Kevin folds into his side gently, trusting that Andrew would keep his word of not allowing any harm to come to him.

Andrew has to, anyways, if he doesn’t want his head as decoration for the Butcher’s lovely living room, but he doubts he’d let anything happen to Kevin even if the consequences were less extreme.

He briefly shifts his gaze to Kevin’s hands, resting on his own thighs. The wedding band is golden, but discreet — Kevin and Neil weren’t very flamboyant people in spite of their intense lifestyles, and Andrew had been told (rather, gossiped to) by Nicky that their marriage ceremony had been small and deceivingly mundane. Andrew didn’t know them at the time: all he knows is that Neil locked it down just a month after he freed Kevin from the Moriyama family, and hasn’t let go ever since. The rest is history is how Neil refers to everything that came after their marriage; a funny way to avoid telling Andrew the entire scope of his attachment to Kevin.

For a liar, Neil was very honest with Andrew. It was unnerving, and it once made Andrew think he’d be executed the exact moment he lost his job, a concern Neil had scoffed at and said If you think you’re not under the same protection that Kevin is, you’re really stupid in response. Andrew hates them — the two of them, the very pair of husbands — very much.

He was right: the night is long. Kevin is passed out on his shoulders for about an hour and a half until Neil returns to their table, his sharp smile softened at the very moment his eyes fall on his sleeping husband. Andrew used to pull away from whatever touch Kevin had asked of him when Neil came around — rightful self-preservation, he’d argue — but nowadays he knows there is no reason to. Another thing Neil and Kevin are very odd about.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Neil softly asks, his suit jacket discarded somewhere back into the table of the money men and his scarred hands falling just a breath’s distance from Kevin’s hair, as if slowing down to not startle him awake. Andrew doesn’t know the entire scope of what happened with Kevin and the Moriyamas, but he is sure that he doesn’t want to know if it’s what made Kevin develop the habit of waking up startled at the smallest of touches.

Andrew shakes his head. “He is just tired.”

Neil hums, carding his hands through Kevin’s hair delicately. “And you? Were you too bored?”

A weird question, given Andrew is just his husband’s bodyguard, but he shakes his head again. “I am used to it,” he replies.

“Let’s go home,” Neil quietly says, though he lingers near them for a bit longer, petting Kevin’s head. Andrew watches as the stress slowly disappears from his frame, his shoulders relaxing with each breath, as if being near them — near Kevin — gave him back the energy he’d lost mingling with other mafia men. “I know for a fact neither of you had dinner yet.”

“Untrue,” Andrew protests, careful to not shift too much and wake Kevin straight into a panic attack, “we shared a sundae while you were negotiating.”

“And since when is that dinner?” Neil asks, quirking an eyebrow, his hands briefly stilling. “Since when does Kevin eat ice cream?”

He presses his lips into a tight line. “He has been getting better.”

Neil half-smiles; a tired little thing Andrew wishes he did not pay so much attention to. “Your influence, I’m sure. Aren’t you the best thing to happen to us in the last years?”

“So you say,” Andrew grumbles irritably. “Wake him up so we can leave.”

Andrew could do it himself (that is, has the permission to), but he is not as delicate about it as Neil is, and if he had to be honest, he would admit that he kind of enjoys watching it go down: Neil’s soft voice, warm and steady like a candle, his hands traveling from Kevin’s hair to his face gentler than Andrew has ever seen anyone be, and Kevin’s eyes blearily blinking open one, two, three times before he realizes who he is with and what is he doing there. He never wakes up startled when he’s near Neil — as he never wakes up startled when he’s near Andrew.

When asked about it, Kevin mumbled something about the way they smell. He doesn’t know why Kevin would pay so much attention to Andrew’s dollar store cologne, but he is not about to ask, either.

It is like that, with them: Andrew and Kevin, Kevin and Neil, Andrew and Neil. Husbands and their… Bodyguard.

Andrew doesn’t know which other term to use to describe his relationship with them. He’s often afraid he’ll never know.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #kandreil #kandrew #andrew minyard #kevineil #kevin day #andreil #neil josten #my writing #HONESTLY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH....................... i had Forgotten how much i love Them. until i realized. and i couldnt stop realizing #i love this au so much actually expect more from her once im done with my other kandreil fic. she is beautiful she is gorgeous #thank you tania for reminding me of her #omg wait let me create a tag for this au i will be posting more of her #butcher!neil au

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ghost-in-the-stalls · 4 years ago

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Ok now I've been thinking about it and I really actually prefer the idea of andrew not going into exy professionally.

It's what neil and Kevin love and he plays it because he's good at it and it get his family through college. Of all things that he doesn't care about, he doesn't care about exy either. And I kind of like the idea that as he heals and learns to find his own passions and interests and desires, exy isn't necessarily included in that. He doesn't need to love it just because the people around him do.

And like I dont think there's anything WRONG with him deciding he likes exy and wants to keep doing it. But I like picturing a scenario where he seeks out and finds and chooses a passion or career of his own instead of just learning to care about what he's fallen into. I like imagining him healing and growing to a point where he can look at the world around him and seek out his own interests and drives without anyone else's influence.

Idk professional exy player andrew minyard just doesn't do it for me the same.

So like some things I could see him getting into:

Writing: with how carefully he picks the words he does say (as few as they are) and with the pop culture and classic lit references he makes, I can imagine him actually getting really into reading and writing. @gahhhastly and I were talking last night about him and we decided it would make sense for him to be like... a selectively avid reader. Specifically, he'll go out of his way to read books that have been banned and stuff like that. But anyway I can definitely see him maybe learning to express himself in a journal or in letters in a way he can't or doesn't want to out loud. And I feel like he'd find that he has some incredible stories to tell.

Music: Maybe I just listen to too much music and make too many playlists and love the idea of band aus too much, but I kind of like the idea of Andrew getting into music. Maybe one day he decides to pick up guitar. Or maybe he learns he naturally has a decent singing voice and so he decides to work at that and cultivate that skill. Or maybe he writes shit down and realizes he likes finding melodies to go along to his lyrics. Maybe he just plays some instruments and decides to commit to it. Idk I can just picture it really well. I like the idea of him getting involved in something that definitely clearly requires passion to achieve, but still maintaining himself as a person and just... sliding that quiet passion into his life in the form of skill building and commitment.

Criminal justice: this one is harder to picture tbqh mainly just because I personally don't have any idea what types of things go into being a lawyer (he definitely wouldn't take the cop route lmao). And ik I personally don't like when people write him as a social worker because it is always glaringly obvious how little they clearly actually know about the profession and what it entails. But like I can imagine him initially going into that major because he's a petty little shit, and then maybe finding that he actually finds it very interesting.

Activism and community assistance: I can see Andrew just saying fuck it and working to do some social justice work, or work with non profits, or charities or what have you. Like maybe less on the person side of things and more on the system side of things. More concrete work with less involvement with cases, but still working towards goals that he personally cares about. I also just love the image of him and Renee doing habitat for humanity together or something. Like can you imagine scary antagonistic andrew minyard showing up to build houses or help run a soup kitchen or something alongside Literal Angel Renee Walker? Good image

I feel like there are so many other possibilities. This is just what came to mind immediately. Let andrew minyard find career interests outside of exy 2k21

#aftg meta #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #aftg #tfc #andreil #my writing

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kar3npage · 6 years ago

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The 5 times one of the Foxes saw Andrew smile, and the one time all of them saw him smile

Because I love the 5+1 format, and because I just want Andrew and Neil to be happy. (Also I’ve decided that of course they would get married, because that just makes sense).

My apologies for any mistakes, this was written all in one go this afternoon and I was too excited to wait before posting. I’m also trying to sign up for ao3 so I can post it there, I’ll update when that happens:)

Thanks for reading!

The mood in the room was unusually somber before the Palmetto Foxes third game of the season. This was especially unusual because they weren’t expecting any sort of backlash, and the team that they were playing against was pretty tame. No one had any particular fear against the Terrapins and the two teams were mostly friendly.

Allison knew that the dark vibe was from the silence that came from the corner that Neil and Andrew sat in.

Besides the cat fights with the new Foxes, everyone on the team has been working well together this year. The upperclassmen and Andrews group had an unbreakable bond from the events of last year, although they all pretended that they couldn’t care less about the other group (except for Matt. He couldn’t pretend to not care if his life depended on it, the sweet puppy).

Neil’s silence was accompanied by a far away gaze and sickly pale skin. Allison had already pulled him aside in the dorms to lecture him about playing while sick, but he insisted that he was fine. Allison had let him go, assuming that Andrew would take care of him. Now she was wondering if she should have pushed harder, since he looked absolutely determined to play today.

Renee’s soft nudge distracted Allison from their almost dead looking striker and she gave her an understanding look.

“I’m sure he’ll take care of himself,” Renee says quietly. Allison squeezes her hand, grateful to have her to lean against. She still wasn’t sure how Renee managed to understand exactly what everyone was thinking with such accuracy.

“Okay people, we’ve gotten a strong start, let’s keep that up,” Wymack says gruffly, sending a concerned look toward Neil. “If any of you aren’t feeling up to it, tell me now so we can change the starting line-up.”

Everyone looks at Neil, who stares straight ahead like he hadn’t heard Coach. He turns his head to avoid Andrews dark look, then gets up stiffly.

“We done Coach? Dan and I would like to start drills soon,” Neil says. Allison snorts at his poor attempt at changing the subject, but Wymack just lets him go with a nod.

As they make their way over to the court Allison sees Wymach snag Andrew. “You’ll keep an eye on him?” she hears him say. She doesn’t hear Andrew answer, but she knows that he will.

They’re up, 4-2, by the time the first half is done. Allison had kept her eye on Neil every time she was off, but he had looked fine while playing. Abby wasn’t able to check in with him during half-time though, too busy dealing with Jack’s minor injury that he had gotten from getting checked into the plexiglass. Allison had to admit that she had very little sympathy for the kid.

Everything was going fine until almost the end of the next half. Allison hadn’t been paying much attention to the health of her team while she was playing, focused more on actually playing, but no one could ignore the loud slam that came from near the other teams goal.

Allison instinctively looked toward the noise to find out who was down.

The game was still going, but slumped against the wall across from her was Neil. Allison didn’t hesitate to run over to him, abandoning the goal for Andrew to look after.

One of the Terrapins backliners stood beside him, helmet off and looking sweetly concerned. He starts babbling as soon as Allison makes it over to them.

“I swear, it wasn’t that hard of a hit,” he says frantically. Allison understood the panic-it had less to do with Neil and more to do with what might happen to the poor kid when Andrew got here.

Allison ignores him and tugs Neils helmet off to reveal his deathly pale face. His eyes start fluttering as he wakes up, and he’s able to put his hand up to stop the game. Allison hears a smack behind her, but she ignores it.

“Neil, where are you hurt?” she says. It comes out irritated, but she knows that Neil will get that it’s out of concern.

“‘M fine,” he mumbles, trying and failing to get up. Allison shoves him down and looks around for Abby.

The poor kid who hit Neil is being held against the plexiglass by a furious Andrew, Nicky and Aaron standing beside him and trying to talk him out of any blatant violence. Abby has fighting her way through the players with a mixture of anger and worry.

“Drew?” Neil says, eyes closed and head leaning against the wall. There’s another smack and a few seconds later Andrew shoves Allison out of the way to sit beside him. Abby shows up a few minutes later, but Allison stays where she is to use her body to give them a bit of a barrier.

“You idiot,” Andrew growls. “Next time, get up after you get hit.”

Neil gives him a feverish smile. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m f-, I’m okay.” He just barely catches himself and Andrew shakes his head in irritation. Allison grins, a little relieved that he’s feeling good enough to catch his words.

“Neil, do you know how high your fever is right now? You could kill yourself, playing like this. What were you thinking?” Abby lectures while she smooths back his hair. “Why didn’t you tell him to stop, Andrew?”

Neil grabs Andrews hand awkwardly, still wearing his armoured gloves. Andrew snorts. “You think I’m his keeper? He does what he wants. Junkie.”

Neil laughs weakly at that and lets Abby and Andrew support his weight as they get him up. Once he’s able to stand on his own two feet, the crowd lets out a supportive roar and Allison turns around to see Neil and Andrew. Andrew gives him a small, relieved smile, something that Allison never thought that she would see. No one had seen Andrew smile a single time since he’s been off of his meds. This smile is completely different. It softens his jaw, and even though it’s so small that it’s barely noticeable, Neil beams when he catches it.

She hears Andrew mutter a number under his breathe and they slowly walk off the court.

Allison could settle a few bets from this, but a part of her knows that she saw a private moment. Renee walks over to take over the goal and gives her a pleased smile, almost like she knew how selfless Allison was being by not telling anyone about this.

She grins back and relaxes, knowing that Neil is in good hands.

Matt could cry, he was so happy to see his best friend after so many months apart. Dan squeezes his arm and lets him go give Neil a bear hug. All of them have graduated now, and Christmas is one of the only times that the original Foxes get to see each other, and even then it’s sometimes difficult to get everyone together.

This year everyone is gathered at Abby’s, and it feels just like old times. Aaron and Katelyn are already helping Abby and Wymack in the kitchen and Nicky is regaling everyone with stories from Germany, Erik adding details every once in a while but mostly just looking at his fiance with heart eyes.

Allison and Renee are coming later, and Kevin is watching an Exy match on TV. His mouth is open slightly as he watches the rematch like he’s never seen it before. Andrew sits beside him with a bored expression while he scrolls through his phone, but Matt notices him glance up at them a few times while he chats with Neil.

Neil had mentioned how difficult it’s been to be playing on different teams than Andrew, and Matt can see how happy he is now that everyone’s together. He thinks that Neil’s been getting lonely.

The kitchen is a hive of activity and they all talk over each other as they catch up on the past year. Dan and Matt show everyone their engagement rings, way too excited to wait to tell everyone like they had planned. Matt swears that Wymack tears up a bit when Dan asks him to walk her down the aisle, and Abby just about breaks his back with how tightly she hugs him.

Andrew even offers them a nod and agrees to fly out with Neil for the wedding, even though they aren’t sure when it will be yet.

There’s more exclaiming when Allison and Renee get there and Allison shouts at them for not waiting to announce it until they got there. They look tired but happy after travelling all day, and Renee gives him one of her pleased, proud smiles. At some point Betsy had gotten there as well, and Matt sees her having a long conversation with Andrew in the living room.

Matt can’t believe how far they’ve all come. After such ruined childhoods and terrible experiences in University, they all managed to build themselves lives. Build themselves a family.

Matt feels so incredibly fond of them all that it feels like his chest is going to split, like it can’t hold all of the affection for these people.

Dinner is as hectic and happy as the rest of the day was, and they sit at the dining table for hours talking. Kevin and Neil have an in-depth conversation about their teams and their performance so far this season, which Andrew mocks and then turns to talk with Renee.

Matt and Dan are talking over each other with the ease of people who are perfectly comfortable with each other as they tell Abby about their honeymoon plans, and Allison gives them tips. Or maybe they’re more like orders, but it’s all good ideas so they don’t mind.

It isn’t until after they’ve cleaned up the dishes and most of the Foxes have settled in the living room to rewatch some of their old matches that Matt gets the chance to talk with Neil on his own.

They skype as regularly as possible, and Neil calls him almost every week to get updates, but Matt has still missed him.

When he notices Neil sneak out to the porch, he follows behind.

“It’s hard to believe, but Kevin’s obsession hasn’t waned in the slightest,” Matt jokes as he plops down on the stairs beside Neil. The striker throws his head back to laugh and Matt revels in the warmth that comes with being able to make this once shy kid laugh his genuine, thrilled laugh.

“Andrew would say the same about me,” he says, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“He’s right. You’ve been playing well though, that goal in the last game where you hit it from half court was insane! I have the video saved to my phone so I can show people and tell them I know you,” Matt gushes, glad to finally be able to tell him how proud he is of him. Neil has a pleased blush on his cheeks.

“You still watch my games?”

“Of course I do! Dan and I’ve turned it into date night. We order pizza.”

Neils laughs again, more pleased than he would admit that Dan watches them too.

“How have you been Neil? For real?”

Neil fidgets with the bottom of his shirt. “It’s tough,” he finally admits. “Without Andrew. Our schedules are so different. There’s a chance that next year I might be able to switch though.”

Matt hums and bumps his shoulder against Neils. “I’m glad. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Neil listens to Matt talk about Dan and what they’ve been up to for a while, and they sit in comfortable silence until Matt finally laughs. Neil gives him a questioning look.

“I have a ridiculous question for you that’s been plaguing me for years now.” Neil raises an eyebrow and waits for Matt to keep talking.

“So if you think that Andrews attractive, does that mean you think that about Aaron too?” Matts eyes are filled with mirth. He knows all too well the strained relationship that Neil and Aaron had through University, and also that they have just reached the point where they can talk about things other than Exy without killing each other.

Neil snorts, but then thinks through an answer much more seriously than Matt expected. “I’m not really attracted to people,” he says, then shakes his head and backtracks. “That’s not what I meant. Obviously I’m attracted to Andrew, and I think he’s beautiful, but it’s more because I know him so well and I trust him so much.”

Neil is blushing slightly at the admission and he looks to Matt to see if he understands what he means.

“It’s hard to explain. I never was attracted to anyone before Andrew. I can see objectively that some people are nice looking, but it doesn’t really affect me. But I really care about Andrew, and I can talk to him for hours and I know what foods he likes and he knows what I like. And the longer we know each other and the more I know him, the more beautiful he gets. Does that make sense?”

Neil frowns and waits for Matt. Matt can’t help the soft smile that curves his lips. “Neil Josten, you are the sweetest person on this goddamned team, you know that? Yeah, that makes sense.”

Matt hears the door close behind them and turns around to see Andrew standing there with his usual blank expression, but his red ears indicate that he heard what Neil said. Neil beams up at him and Matt gets up to leave. He turns around to look at the two before he goes inside and is shocked to see the softest smile gracing Andrews lips before his sits down beside Neil.

It’s no secret that most of the Foxes were worried about Neil choosing Andrew, of all people, to trust. But the longer they’re together, the more Matt realizes that Andrew is just as soft for Neil as Neil is for Andrew, he’s just better at hiding it.

Matt’s still grinning about that soft look hours later when him and Dan are getting ready to leave.

“You two are good for each other,” he says quietly to Neil before they leave, and Neil rewards him with a thrilled smile and a nod.

Playing professionally makes a lot of things very difficult to hide. Something about the sport has made it a fan favourite, and the interesting lives of the players mean that the general public is completely fascinated with hearing about their lives outside of the sport.

As much as Kevin hates how intrusive everyone can be because of this, he has to admit that it makes it much easier for him to keep his eye on the old Foxes. Articles about Neil and Andrew are ridiculously easy to find online, and Kevin has made a habit of checking on them regularly.

He’s doing just that when he finds an article about Andrew getting noticed after his flight to New York. The journalist muses about why on earth he would be going to New York, a place that holds none of his family, only his long time rival, Striker Neil Josten.

What makes his trip even more interesting is the fact that the same long term rival picked him up from the airport.

What made Kevin look at this article with such interest was the picture that was attached to it. It’s obviously been taken with a good camera, since the photo is crisp and clear. In the center stands Neil and Andrew, standing only an inch apart. The crowd behind them is blurred out, making the photo look like a scene from a rom-com. Neil is beaming at Andrew and tugging his bag from him, eyes sparkling. What caught Kevins attention is the small quirk in Andrews lips, something that would be too small to call a smile on anyone but Andrew.

Kevin still has a protective streak for the two boys and wants them to have as easy of a life as possible, but he can’t deny the fact that they seem happier than they ever have been.

Kevin can’t remember the last time that he saw Andrew have a real smile that wasn’t violent or caused by medication.

He re-reads the article, then looks back up at the picture. Is this journalist stupid? He thinks. The whole article is about how Andrew must have come for something else, how their thrilled expressions must have been because they were mid-roast. Kevin can’t believe the journalist didn’t immediately realize that they were dating. He sighs and moves on to the next article, this one about Jeremy, but his mind keeps going back to the content smile on Andrews face. They’re going to be outed if they don’t stop making each other look so happy, he thinks. But he also thinks that maybe that’s not as bad of a thing as he’s made it out to be.

A few minutes later he goes back to the article and sends the link to Nicky without any explanation. He thought that might make Nicky happy.

“I’m glad we still have the skype dates. I know Andrew and Neil are so busy right now,” Erik says, playing absentmindedly with Nicky’s hair as they wait for the boys to answer their skype call.

They’ve been having these weekly conversations with first Neil and Andrew, and later Aaron and Katelyn as well, for months. They had originally just called each other, but Nicky missed seeing his cousins more than he could say. He loves Germany, and he loves every single moment with Erik, but it’s still tough to have such a long distance relationship with his family. Especially after everything they’ve all gone through together.

It was harder to keep in contact with the other Foxes, but they all did their best to meet up for Christmas (everyone even came to Germany a few years ago. Nicky cried with joy, even though Andrew insisted it was just because everyone wanted to see Europe), plus he often got texts from Matt and Renee. And every once in a while he gets an Exy article from Kevin.

Nicky hummed in agreement and watched the screen with anticipation. They had missed last weeks skype call because Neil and Andrew were finally moving in together after signing for the same team in the fall. Nicky has been vibrating with excitement to see the apartment, and Erik has been waiting to ask for tips about taking care of a cat from Neil.

When the screen finally pops up, it’s obvious that Neil and Andrew haven’t noticed it yet. Neil is laughing about something, one of his rare laughs that is unforced and filled with true joy. And Andrew, Nicky’s beloved, terrifying cousin is beaming. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen on his cousins face for years, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen him smile with such true happiness. Nicky could cry, and when he turns to look at Erik, he can see that his eyes are shining as well.

Erik clears his throat and Andrew schools his expression as he turns to the screen. Neil is still looking at Andrew with pure love, but he waves to the screen.

A flash of silver derails Nicky’s thoughts even further.

“Neil. Neil, what is on your hand?” He asks, delight evident in his voice. Neil smirks and holds up the other hand, which has nothing on it. Andrews lips quirk.

“No, your other hand. Is that a ring?!” Nicky is almost bouncing, waiting for Neil to stop teasing him and show him the simple silver band that sits, unassuming, on his finger.

Neil shows him his other hand without hesitating, and Nicky realizes that they’ve already talked about telling him. It makes his heart grow bigger than it already is.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, are you guys engaged? When did that happen?” Nicky practically shrieks while Erik gives them a heartfelt congratulations.

Andrew’s expression is as bored as ever, but Nicky doesn’t miss the fact that they’re holding hands under the laptop.

“A few days ago,” Andrew says nonchalantly. The tips of his ears are pink though, and Neil can’t hold in the grin.

“Hows Germany?” Neil asks politely, and Erik laughs.

“There’s no way Nicky will let you change the subject that quickly,” Erik says, and Nicky nods effusively.

“How did this happen? I need the entire story Andrew! Or Neil, whoever will actually give me the details. Who asked who? Did you cry?”

Neil laughs again. “We asked each other. We had a long conversation about it.”

Nicky wishes that he could tease them for that and call them boring, but he knows what a huge deal this is for his cousin. He’s thrilled that Neil understands that as well.

“You guys are so good for each other,” Nicky says, sniffling a bit. Andrew rolls his eyes.

“I’m hanging up now,” he says.

“No! I need to hear what you’re doing for your wedding! Maybe I can help you plan it. And Allison can too! It’s gonna be so amazing.”

Neil laughs as Andrew reaches his hand out in slow motion to close the computer. Neil’s voice reaches them as the camera goes down.

“We’re going to have a party, we’ll figure out a time you guys can come out, okay?”

Erik confirms that because Nicky is too emotional over the fact that they’re planning the time around him.

He leans his head against Erik’s shoulder and Erik smiles.

“I guess we’ll have to wait until next week for an apartment tour,” he says, and Nicky can hear the smile in his words.

“I never thought that he would be happy. Isn’t that sad? I wasn’t even sure if Andrew would be talking to me for this long. Then this scrappy puppy comes along and puts us all in danger and makes us all love him, and here we are. No one ever would have guessed this in a million years.” Nicky says thoughtfully.

That night, Nicky falls asleep with the picture of a truly happy Andrew in his mind.

As much as he tries to convince his old Foxes that he’s a grouchy old man who doesn’t care, Wymack spends a lot of time checking up on his kids.

He’s been to as many of Kevin’s games as he can possible fit in whenever they’re close enough and he doesn’t have a game on, he video calls Nicky as often as he can (keeping weird hours makes this easier, and Nicky and Abby both lecture him regularly about getting enough sleep), and Dan and Matt live close enough that they have dinner together regularly. Renee and Allison move around too often to make it easy to see them, but everyone ends up together at least once a year. They avoid doing it on Thanksgiving (Andrew and Neil prefer to keep that one quiet, and no one argues with that). Aaron and Katelyn have even come out to see them a few times when their schedules weren’t as hectic with the hospital.

The hardest ones to get to see are Andrew and Neil. They spent a few years doing long distance with both playing on different teams, so every time they had time off they spent it together. Wymack wishes that he could have lived closer to Neil, he knows that those years were particularly difficult on him.

Now that they are living together and on the same team, it’s been easier for them to get in contact with everyone, but they’re still moving around too often for it to be easy to visit.

Last year they detoured to stay with Abby and Wymack for a few days during their annual summer road trip, and having Bee there meant that Andrew has come out a few extra times to stay when Neil was busy with press.

Wymack tries very hard to convince them that he couldn’t care less about how often they come out to visit him, but they all know that he misses them terribly.

To keep a closer eye on them, Wymack and Abby recorded all of their games, and Wymack secretly watches youtube videos with names like ‘Neil Josten’s Best 10 Roasts’ and ‘10 Minutes of the Josten Minyard Rivalry’. He does not miss dealing with the press after Neil’s been let loose, but he feels a bit of pride every time he rips into a deserving journalist after being asked about his scars. If Wymack could kick everyone’s ass who hurt his kids, he would. Since he can’t, watching them get demolished by a tiny redhead has to do.

For the first time in a few weeks, Abby and Wymack are finally watching a game live. It’s always a lot more stressful watching them live, but they make up for that by ordering Chinese and making an evening of it.

They barely talk through the game other than to insult the other team or praise a good save or goal. The second half as just started when an aggressive striker doesn’t stop at the goal lines. The entire court goes silent and Wymack watches with barely controlled terror as Neil sprints across the court just in time for Andrew to hit the wall. Neil shoves the striker away with more venom than Wymack has seen from him since Riko and turns his attention to the goalie currently lying on the ground.

“Come on Andrew, get up,” Wymack whispers as he watches Neil fling his helmet off and protect his prone form while the medical staff make their way over. The sports announcers are frantic as they explain what just happened and Abby groans in irritation as they show a slow motion recap of Andrew getting hit, then of Neil protecting him.

Wymack clutches his phone and enters the number of their coach before he’s even thought it through. He knows it isn’t likely that he’ll answer, but he’s disappointed when it goes to voicemail anyway. Beside him Abby is calling Neil.

It takes almost 30 long minutes before Abby gets through to Neil, and she immediately puts it on speaker phone so that they can both speak to him.

“Neil, is everything okay?” Abby says, concern leaking through her words.

“I’m… I’m not sure yet. I’m at the hospital? And I’m waiting for the doctor,” Neil sounds shocked, voice dull.

“Which hospital are you at? We’re flying there as soon as we can,” Wymack says, and Abby nods, grabbing his phone to book tickets.

“Umm, I’m not sure. One minute,” they can hear mumbling while Neil asks someone where they are and Wymacks heart aches for the poor kid.

“Okay, we’re just at the New York Hospital.”

“I booked our tickets, we’re leaving in an hour okay?” Abby says as soothingly as she can. “We’ll call you when we get there.” Wymack says in lieu of a goodbye.

By the time they make it to New York they each have a few messages from Neil saying that Andrew’s going to be fine, he has a concussion and they’re keeping him for observation, but he’s okay. The relief is palpable after the tension through the flight, and Wymack is glad that Neil thought to tell them.

It’s early in the morning when they get there, so they sleep at a hotel for a few hours while waiting for visiting hours.

It’s far more complicated to get into the room than Wymack thought that it would be. They have to convince the staff that they aren’t journalists or well meaning fans before they’re brought up to the room, and Abby has to show them family photos from Christmas with Neil and Andrew before the nurses decide that they are allowed to see Andrew.

Wymack’s glad for the security but he curses at all the journalists for making it so difficult. They crowd them when they realize who they are visiting, and it takes a security guard and a lot of glaring to part the crowd so they can follow the nurse.

“Can you confirm the Josten Minyard relationship?” One journalist shouts as they walk past.

“Coach Wymack! Coach Wymack, is it true that Minyard’s injury is far worse than they are letting on? And what do you think that means for the team?” another journalist shouts, microphone shoved unceremoniously in his face. Abby pulls him behind her and gives him a warning look not to say anything.

The hallway where Andrews room is located is blissfully calm after the storm downstairs. The nurse indicates which room he’s in, then moves on.

Abby pauses in the doorway and motions for Wymack to step beside her, a look of contentment on her face.

In the room Neil is perched on the bed beside Andrew. He’s a bit pale but there are no visible cuts or bruises and he looks mostly alert. They’re hands are twined together, the silver engagement bands catching the light.

Neil is saying something in a low tone and Andrew squeezes his hand. His mouth tilts up at the corners and looks at Neil with something close to adoration. Wymack tugs Abby away from the door and takes a few steps back to give them their privacy. He texts Neil to tell him that they’ve made it in, and a few minutes later Neil peeks out the door to great them.

He looks exhausted, hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes, but his face brightens when he sees them.

Abby gives him a tight hug before going to sit in the chair beside Andrew who has his usual bored expression. Wymack stops beside Neil and squeezes his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” he says, feeling a little choked up. Neil looks up in surprise.

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

Wymack grins and pats his shoulder before going in to greet Andrew.

“Next time, get back up after you get hit,” he says gruffly to the tiny blond. Andrew raises a brow.

“Did I worry you, old man? You’re getting soft with age.”

Wymack grunts and sits down in the other chair near the foot of the bed. “Not worried, just annoyed. Kevin’s called me 3 times since I got up this morning to make sure you can still play.”

“He’ll be back in a few weeks,” Neil says while he takes back his post at Andrews side. Andrew rolls his eyes and mutters ‘junkie’ under his breath.

Wymack wishes he could be irritated at the long night and unnecessary panic, but he feels so content being in the same place as his kids that his gruffness is softened.

Neil surveys the apartment from his spot in the kitchen. They’re 1 bedroom apartment is not nearly big enough to comfortably fit everyone in, but no one is complaining about the small space. Even Andrew isn’t feeling claustrophobic yet (Neil keeps checking on him, but he seems happy chatting with Aaron and Kevin on the sofa). True to promise, they did throw a wedding party at their apartment, and they made sure that it was at a time that Nicky and Erik could come out to see them.

However, it took multiple arguments to convince Allison and Nicky that they didn’t need anyone to plan it and that they were just going to get married at the courthouse. Neil’s pretty sure that it was more Renee and Erik than his arguments who made them let it go. No matter what, Neil couldn’t be happier with how everything has turned out.

King winds himself around his ankles, meowing indignantly about the noise in the place and Neil smiles fondly at her.

Matt and Dan are swaying to the music near the balcony door, lost in their own little world. Beside them sway Renee and Allison, and Renee catches Neils eye to smile proudly at him. After Nicky, her and Allison were the next ones they told about the engagement. Andrew had mentioned that it was Renee who convinced him that marriage wasn’t always a bad idea, and Neil couldn’t help but feel a bit grateful for that.

Beside him stood Abby, Wymack, and Bee. Bee has been around long enough that Neil is able to accept her, and he’s glad that Andrew was able to find someone that he trusted so much. Neil has also been going to a therapist, but something about knowing Bee while he was going through everything made it too uncomfortable for him to talk to her. He found someone in New York instead, and Bee seemed so thrilled that he’s managed to open up to someone other than Andrew that Neil almost liked her a little bit. It’s tough to find someone who is genuinely happy about your healing.

Katelyn is laughing with Thea about something, and Erik and Nicky are in the corner cooing over Sir, who is soaking up the attention.

Neil can’t help but think about all of the trials and tribulations it took to get to this point - the time in the Ravens Nest, the terror of Baltimore, all of the panic attacks and rough nights and foggy days. Neil never thought that he would live through his first year of University so every year after that has felt both like a gift and borrowed time. It took until the past year for Neil to wrap his head around the idea that he might be able to live until old age.

That thought was both a relief and terrifying, just because he wants it so badly. Andrew has helped him pull through multiple panic attacks just thinking about it.

Neil knows that there will be other challenges ahead of them (even though they really deserve a happy 20 years to make up for the bad ones), but he thinks that they’ll be much easier than the crap that’s gone on before this.

He catches Andrews eye across the room. They’re both wearing the suits they got for the occasion and Neils eyes have been tracking Andrew all night. He’s noticed that Andrews have done the same thing for him.

Aaron realizes that Andrews attention has strayed and he turns his conversation to Kevin. Neil and Aaron’s relationship isn’t exactly great, but they’ve managed to get to the point where they can go for coffee without hating each other by the time they get home. Neil knows that Andrew appreciates the effort both of them make, even though he’s never said anything about it.

Neil watches as Andrew gets up and makes his way through their friends, no, their family to get to him.

He watches the crowd impassively beside Neil while Neil watches the small twitch at his lips and the fond look in his eyes.

“Staring.”

Neil grins. “I guess you’ll have to do something about that, won’t you?”

Andrew’s jaw tightens where he tries not to smile. Neil feels the glow of accomplishment. My husband thinks I’m funny. He tries to keep his expression calm, but he can see from Andrews pink ears that he’s watching him with as much love as he feels.

Abruptly Andrew holds out a hand. “Yes or no.”

Neil isn’t quite sure what he’s asking, but he puts his hand in Andrews without hesitation. “Of course.”

Andrew leads him over to a quiet spot near the hallway and places Neils hands on his shoulder. He grabs his waist and starts to sway to the music.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what? Like I love you? Because I do,” Andrews ears go red and Neil smirks, feeling very proud of himself for making Andrew blush.

“You’re a pest,” Andrew says.

“Yeah, but I’m your pest.”

And Andrew laughs. Neil almost trips in surprise. He can feel the eyes of the rest of the party on them, but he can’t tear his eyes off of Andrews smile.

“Yes or no,” Neil says.

Andrew’s still smiling. “Yes, Junkie.”

Neil kisses Andrews forehead, not wanting to get rid of that beautiful, perfect smile. There’s a flash and Neil turns around to see Nicky holding a camera.

“This is going on the wall! I’m framing it,” he announces, and Andrews glare holds barely any heat.

A few weeks later, when the package from Germany comes, Neil can see how pleased Andrew is with the photo. It sits in a simple silver frame, and they hang it above the sofa.

Neil feels very much like he lives a charmed life.

2K notes · View notes

darkblueboxs · 5 years ago

Note

If you're taking requests, maybe the foxes reacting to soft andreil? I love seeing their relationship through outside perspectives

Sorry for the delay! I ended up with two very different ideas for this and wrote both of them. I’ll be posting the other one in the next week or so! [EDIT: Here it is!]This was great fun to write. Thank you for the request. <3

In the Eye of the Beholder

Read here or on AO3

#1 Dan

Dan raps her knuckles against the door to the monster’s flat and waits. Nicky greets her with an impressive mop of bedhair and a baffled expression which smooths over only when Neil darts past, citing brunch with Dan as his excuse for being awake at such a thoroughly reasonable hour on a Sunday morning. He’s in high spirits, from what Dan can tell, rolling on the balls of his feet as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Dan is ready to put it down to excitement over their plans – she has a stack of potential recruits under her arm thicker than Les Misérables for them to discuss, hopefully with a stack of pancakes of equal height on the side. Then she spots the light bruise peeking over the hem of Neil’s collar, and draws a very different conclusion about the source of Neil’s good mood.

She smiles as they step into the elevator, but keeps the observation to herself. While some members of the team love to badger Neil for the slightest insight into his relationship, Dan is willing to push her curiosity aside for the sake of Neil’s privacy. He has plenty other teammates to pester him without her jumping on the bandwagon.

Just before the doors slide shut, an arm bursts through the gap, forcing them open. Andrew is as stoic and terrifying as ever (not that Dan would ever admit it) even while wearing Neil’s foxprint-patterned pyjama bottoms. The quickened rise and fall of his chest is the only hint that he ran to get here.

Neil raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his underdressed partner.

Andrew lobs something at Neil which bounces off his chest and lands on the floor between his feet. Neil stoops to scoop it up, and Dan sees that it’s his wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Idiot,” Andrew huffs. He retracts his arm, and the doors slide shut on the sight of him stalking back to their dorm.

Neil taps the wallet against his hand a couple times before sliding it into the wallet.

“You’re both idiots if you think I’m letting you pay for brunch,” Dan says wryly.

Neil shakes his head. “I said I was going to pick up some stuff at the store afterwards. But thanks. Brunch is on me, though.”

“We’ll see,” Dan says, which means no. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was sweet of him.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches. “Nah. He’s just making sure I come back with the junk food I promised him.”

“Sure.” And, oh, Dan had been trying to be good, but she really can’t help herself any longer. “So, did you guys mean to give each other matching hickeys, or was that just a fun little accident?”

Neil slaps his hand to his neck and groans.

All in all, it’s a great morning.

#2 Kevin

Aaron’s trial is coming up. Kevin wouldn’t care (well, he would, but for different reasons) except that it’s making the cousins snippy and fractious. More so than usual. Andrew isn’t sleeping properly, although he would deny that it had any relation to the trial. Unfortunately, his insomnia is contagious, which ends with Neil losing focus at their night practice, having spent the best part of a week running on fumes and gatorade.

Kevin has been patient – patient by his standards, anyway – but the third fumbled catch in a row snaps his temper like brittle bone.

“Get the fuck off my court, Josten.” Kevin says, smacking the base of his racquet against the floor.

“Fuck you,” Neil answers reflexively. He stops to push his lengthening bangs back from his face.

“I’m not joking. You’re in no state to play. Get the fuck out.” Kevin wishes Neil would take it as the blessing it is, a night to re-focus and re-calibrate, but instead he’s glaring Kevin down like he just asked him to eat sewage.

Neil turns away from him to send another ball barrelling towards the goal. It misses by an entire foot.

“Neil,” Kevin says sharply, readying for a fight that neither of them have the energy nor patience for.

Before he can begin, the doors to the court bang open. Andrew stands in the entrance, arms crossed. It’s the expression that ends an argument before it’s had time to start; Kevin knows it far, far too well.

Andrew leads Neil away to the showers while Kevin continues his drills.

When he’s finished washing up, he finds the pair in the team lounge, collapsed on the wider of the couches. Neil is asleep, slumped into Andrew’s side. Andrew looks up as Kevin enters, but he doesn’t move his hand from its resting place in Neil’s hair. Although Neil was the only one of the pair training that night, Andrew’s hair is plastered against his head as though he, too, is fresh out of the shower. Kevin tries not to consider the implications.

They wait in silence for a few minutes, watching as Neil sleeps, properly sleeps, for the first time in far too long. Neither are willing to disturb him, but the night is late and Kevin has a whole host of classes waiting for him in the morning.

“I’ll walk back,” says Kevin. Andrew meets his gaze for a long moment before nodding briefly. The bags under his eyes betray him.

Kevin darts back into the lockers to pick up Neil’s abandoned kit bag. When he passes them again, Andrew has slouched onto his side, having manoeuvred Neil in front of him so they can both lie comfortably. His arm is slung protectively around Neil’s waist like Andrew is prepared to beat off the world to keep him there.

Kevin knows they spend more nights in each other’s bunks than out of them in the dorm, but somehow they’re always up and away before anyone else is awake enough to give them any hassle over it. Kevin doesn’t care, but Nicky can be overbearing at the best of times, and Aaron is… well, Aaron. But here, in the privacy of an empty stadium, it looks like Neil has finally found enough security to drop off at last, and Andrew looks ready to follow. Kevin shuts the door behind him, not quite smiling, but close. It was strange to some, the idea of Neil and Andrew, but anyone who saw them curled up together would see it plain as day. They just fitted.

The next day, Neil is closer to being himself again, and no more is said on the matter.

#4 Matt

Matt has to admit that press duty with Neil is never boring. The interviewers seem to share his opinion, visibly perking up when Neil follows Matt into the room. They lost to the Bearcats, but it was close enough that Matt doesn’t have to lie when he says that he’s proud of the team’s performance today.

“Some are saying that the failure of the defence line in later stages was due to Minyard’s performance in goal in the second half. How would you respond to that?

Matt doesn’t know why he bothers opening his mouth; the question may be directed to him, but he knows damn well that a boulder in the shape of Neil’s fury is already barrelling in this hapless reporter’s direction. “Well-”

“Last time I checked, this was a team sport,” Neil says loudly. “Was I hallucinating that, or has there been a few rule changes since yesterday?”

Matt isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Coach had told Matt to keep an eye on their resident fire-starter as though anyone was at all capable of controlling Neil when there was a mic in front of him. Matt feels sorry for the poor sucker that will one day be assigned to the role of Neil’s publicist, because he’s sure that Neil will drive them into an early grave alongside Matt’s.

“You have to admit that the number of goals that he let in-”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his entire defence line had already played two full quarters before he even stepped foot on court. People get tired the longer a game goes on, of course defence is going to suffer in the second half. But sure, keep pinning it on the goalie you clearly have it in for.”

Matt claps a hand on Neil’s back. “What he said,” he agrees, staring down the reporter.

They take no further questions.

Matt doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he leaves the showers to see Andrew and Neil alone in the locker room he ducks back out of sight. He walks into at least one dramatic confrontation amongst his teammates per week, and sometimes the best way to deal with the daily bouts of fox drama is to hide and wait for the storm to pass.

“Point me to where I asked you to lead my own personal crusade.” Andrew’s flat tones echo off the tiled floor. Matt regrets leaving his Ipod in his bag. The conversation doesn’t seem too personal to overhear, but Andrew and Neil have never been the easiest reads.

“I’m tired of them talking shit about you just because they have a vendetta against anyone with your…” Neil trails off. Matt imagines him to be making several expressive hand gestures; it’s hard to condense all of Andrew’s history and circumstances into one word. “…everything,” Neil settles on.

“Your principles should not intersect with my business.”

“Even if it could affect your future career?” Neil’s words are met, unsurprisingly, with silence. “Besides, yours do.”

“Explain.”

“When I first came here, you told Nicky to back off. Not out of concern for me. Because of your principles.”

This time, the silence stretches so long that Matt doesn’t think Andrew is going to answer.

“Point,” Andrew concedes.

“Besides, is it so bad that I’m standing up for you?”

“Only when it’s making new enemies for you. How many does one man need?”

“I’ve got room for a few more,” Neil says. There’s a rustle of movement, and, oh, are they kissing? Matt strongly suspects that they are kissing. It’s more than his life is worth to look. He takes a few steps back, rattles his kit loudly and makes as much noise as possible before entering the locker room. The pair are a safe distance apart by the time he enters, and Matt gives them a probably-not-convincingly-casual nod before busying himself with his change of clothes.

The pair spend the journey home holed up together at the back of the bus, and if he suspects that they’re doing a little more than talking, Matt keeps it to himself.

They’ve earned a little privacy, after all.

#5 Aaron

“Well, maybe if you stopped and took the time to, I don’t know, explain literally anything that you do, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

“Aaron,” says Bee, a gentle reprimand. He isn’t in the mood to hear it. His attention remains on his brother, who’s features remain the same stony, impassive blank that they have in almost every joint session to date. It’s an expression that makes Aaron want to tear his hair out, or kick his brother’s face in, or both.

“What would you like me to explain?” says Andrew, more of a challenge than an offer. Aaron snorts, because, where to fucking begin?

“How about we start with your little fuck-buddy, seeing as you’re so keen to start on mine.” Earlier that week, Andrew had returned early from a class to find Aaron and Katelyn together in their dorm room. The result, while not outright violent, had been deeply unpleasant for all involved. And of course, Andrew was being an ass about it.

“Aaron. We’ve talked about this. How can you expect Andrew to talk about Katelyn respectfully if you won’t offer the same respect to his own partner?”

Aaron scoffs. “It’s not the same.”

Andrew’s eyebrow… it doesn’t quirk, but it twitches. “Oh?”

Aaron gestures vaguely. “You know what I mean.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“Me and Katelyn. You and Neil. It isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Andrew’s tone isn’t in the danger zone yet, but it’s edging towards it.

“I’m not talking about the gay thing. I’m talking about…” The hand Aaron was waving clenches into a fist as he drops it into his lap. “Don’t make me say it.”

Andrew and Bee share a look over his head.

“Aaron,” says Bee.

“I just, fucking…” Aaron grapples with words, struggling to find a combination that won’t rip them apart any worse than they already have been. “How the fuck can you expect me to believe that you and him… that you’re real. That you’re normal, that you’re like us, after everything those fuckers did to you. What makes him so different?”

Andrew watches him. Just when Aaron resigns himself to the fact that no answer is coming, Andrew speaks. “If I ask him to stop, he stops.”

Aaron bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he thinks he might have drawn blood. “It can’t be that simple.”

Andrew shrugs.

“How?”

Andrew’s eyes flicker upwards, like he would rather be anywhere else, having any other conversation in the world than this one. “We have a system. We don’t touch each other without asking first. We listen to each other. We talk. What more do you need me to say?”

Aaron falls silent. He doesn’t know what he needs from his brother, still, but it’s something.

“I have a question in return,” Andrew’s eyes flick to Bee. He isn’t looking for permission, but she nods in encouragement nonetheless. “Katelyn. What makes her so different?” Andrew meets his gaze dead-on as he turns Aaron’s own words back on him. “How can you trust her, after everything that bitch Tilda did to you?”

And finally, it all clicks into place.

Aaron forces himself to look his brother in the eyes. So much like his, yet at the same time so different. “Okay,” he concedes at last. “I see.”

Because, at last, he does.

#7 Allison

Neil appears at Allison’s door with a black eye, a bust lip, and the words “don’t freak out,” spilling from his mouth before she can get so much as a word in.

“Great start,” she says, pulling him in. “Who do I need to kill?”

“My shoelace came undone and I ate shit while I was on my run. I just need enough makeup that I can get through class without looking like I’ve been in a fight again. Do you know how many of my lecturers have taken me aside to give me the domestic abuse hotline?”

“You should know how to do this yourself by now.” Allison rolls her eyes as she leads Neil through to the table.

“You’re better at it,” he admits grudgingly, and oh, doesn’t that just warm her heart to hear.

“Nice try. You’re still taking me out for coffee after this.”

Neil pulls a face, and Allison laughs. It doesn’t take long – Allison has treated him in far, far worse shape, as much as she’d rather not think about it – and soon there’s only the faintest smudge around Neil’s eye.

“Can I tempt you to some mascara? Glitter?” Allison asks, waggling her eyebrows as she spreads the contents of her makeup bag out for his inspection.

“Maybe next time,” says Neil, “When I’m not going to a calculus lecture.”

“But that’s the best place for it.” Allison dabs the tip of his nose with her brush, and Neil’s face scrunches up as he tries to hold back a sneeze. His hair flops back down over his forehead as he moves, falling into his eyes.

“Don’t move just yet,” Allison says, yanking a drawer open and fumbling for the kitchen scissors. “I’ve been meaning to deal with that mop for weeks, and right now I have you trapped.”

“Oh, no,” Neil says flatly, but still he surrenders herself to her demands. Wise move.

“Perfect,” says Allison a few minutes later, ruffling Neil’s hair to shake away the last loose strands. “Ready for the red carpet now. I hope there aren’t any cute guys in your maths class, or Andrew is going to go mad with jealousy.”

Neil snorts. “He’s not really the type.”

“Mhmm,” says Allison, because in her experience, everyone is the type.

Speaking of the psychotic little devil himself, Andrew bursts through the door just as Allison is brushing up the last of the trimmings.

“Hey,” Neil says, apparently impervious to Andrew’s thunderous entrance. Andrew ignores the greeting, taking hold of Neil’s chin to turn his face from side to side.

“Kevin said you fell,” he says, relinquishing the grip. Allison half-turns away, pretending to busy herself tidying but really listening, because the monster’s overbearing-boyfriend performances are rarely seen in public yet endlessly entertaining.

“Shoelaces. Who could have seen it coming?”

“I did. And warned you. Twice.”

Neil winces. “My bad.”

Andrew mutters something under his breath that seems to involve the words kill you. The day Allison understands their relationship is the day that she gives up on any and all gossip for the rest of her life.

Then, Andrew pauses, distracted. “Did you trip and fall onto a pair of sheers?”

“Allison gave me a haircut. How does it look?”

Andrew holds his hand in front of Neil’s face. When Neil nods, Andrew runs it quickly through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as he goes. “Awful.”

“Hey,” Allison interrupts, outraged. They both start, and Andrew’s hand drops away, like they had forgotten she was there. Which was the point, really. She holds the scissors in Andrew’s direction. “You’re next, scraggy.”

“When I’m dead,” Andrew replies flatly. It’s clear he isn’t joking. Neil shakes his head at them both.

“Come on, then,” Allison says. “Neil’s taking me for coffee. Give us a ride and I’ll buy you the sugariest, most expensive drink on the menu. I’m hoping the diabetes will finish you off if lung cancer falls through.”

Andrew glances between them. “Fine.”

Sugar and Neil; the keys to Andrew’s stony little heart.

#8 Nicky

Nicky is fully capable of responding to his cousin’s newfound domestic happiness with maturity and decorum.

He just chooses not to.

This has nearly ended in violence no less than eight times. But really, how can he be expected to let it lie when his cousin, who came to him an unruly, violent teen to whom any conversation was like pulling teeth with plastic tweezers, is, for the first time, experiencing the gay teen college romance Nicky could only have dreamed of?

With his fiancée a million miles away, Nicky has to live vicariously when it comes to matters of the heart. There is no better subject for this than his violent baby cousin, who, it seems, isn’t such a baby anymore.

Nicky is beyond late for his class already when he realises that his laptop is dead. He had been skyping with Eric until ass-o-clock in the morning, forgot to plug it in before passing out in his bunk and is paying for it three-fold. He has two options; pencil and paper (what is he, a toddler?) or steal someone’s laptop. The answer is both clear and obvious.

Andrew’s is the first to hand. He most likely won’t surface until noon, by which time Nicky will have returned from class, leaving him none the wiser. The perfect crime.

Or it is the perfect crime until Nicky opens the laptop in the middle of his seminar to a webpage that is filled with very, very unsafe-for-classroom content.

Nicky slams the laptop shut. It wasn’t a video, none of the sites Nicky knew from his own fits of late-night loneliness. Large blocks of text, diagrams that were more analytical than downright pornographic. Nicky slides the laptop open again, just enough for the screen to light up once more, and tabs up. No, not porn. Informative. Educational.

The girl beside him, although unable to see his screen, is giving Nicky some very strange looks. Nicky glances back to the laptop before sliding it shut once more. Pencil and paper will have to do.

The class is drier than dirt, leaving Nicky’s mind with far too much space to think. A dangerous pastime in Nicky’s case, Eric would say teasingly. Nicky had assumed – well, not that he had thought about it, much, but Andrew always seemed so set and sure of himself that it was hard to imagine him googling how-to guides like an acne-riddled teen the night before prom. His apparent innocence is weirdly adorable. Not a word Nicky uses out-loud in his cousin’s presence, but true all the same.

Nicky remembers his first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, and involving entirely the wrong set of genitals. He can only hope Andrew and Neil’s is better.

He shouldn’t get involved. He really, really, shouldn’t.

Nicky slips the laptop back into place mere moments before Andrew slouches into the living space. Nicky watches him as the coffee-maker gurgles away, thinking.

“Andrew.”

Andrew glances up. Nicky isn’t sure what he reads in his face, but it must be setting off alarm bells, because his hands move almost unconsciously to his sleeves. Nicky holds his hands up.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I just…” Oh, this is a lot more awkward than Nicky anticipated. “You know, I’m always here for you. If there’s anything you want to talk about.” He clears his throat. “If you have any questions…”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. They flick in the direction of his desk. Nicky remembers, far too late, Andrew’s impossibly perfect memory. He would remember the exact position he left his laptop in. Nicky is busted.

“Don’t borrow my laptop,” Andrew snarls. The coffee brewer clicks, and it may be the only thing that saves Nicky’s life.

“I’m sorry! I was in a rush!” Nicky says weekly. “If it’s any consolation, the guy who sits behind me now thinks I’m a grade-A pervert.”

Andrew slams a mug down on the counter so hard he almost cracks it. “One more word. One more.”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I’ve been there, okay?”

Andrew takes his coffee and his laptop and leaves without another word. Nicky counts it as a blessing.

The next day, he’s working his way through the mother of all essays when Andrew enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Nicky keeps working until Andrew pulls a chair over to Nicky’s desk and sits in it. He stops typing mid-sentence, fingers hovering over the keys.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

“I want you to take a moment and remember how many knives I have on me right now.”

“A lot, I assume.”

“A lot,” Andrew confirms. “If I had any other choice in the world, I would take it. But I have you. So, I’m going to ask you something, and you are going to be calm and level and mature and everything that you usually are not when you answer.”

“Of course,” Nicky says in a heartbeat. He can’t think of a single time Andrew has ever come to him for help, not even when he was wrapped up in bed and coughing his lungs out the day before his AP Calc exam. Nicky has never been more determined to get something right in his life.

“How,” Andrew says, stops, starts again. Today is full of firsts; Andrew is usually so careful and measured with his words. “How do I do it without hurting him?”

Nicky’s heart is ready to melt or break or explode, maybe all at once. “Oh, Andrew.”

“The knives, Nicky. Remember the knives.”

“Okay,” says Nicky, and he tells Andrew everything he can. He wants, more than anything, for Andrew to be safe and happy, and if it involves going into details that even Nicky is squeamish about discussing with family, then that’s what he’ll do.

He offers to write out a list of reliable books and websites for Andrew to check out, ones he used himself and others Eric recommended to him. Andrew shakes his head.

“Just tell me. I’ll remember them.”

When they’re done, Nicky almost claps Andrew on the shoulder. He thinks better of it, hand hovering mid-air before he withdraws it. “Andrew.”

Andrew is half-way out the door, but he stops, which is more than Nicky expected.

“You’ll be fine.”

Andrew huffs, and abruptly disappears. Nicky smiles to himself as he turns back to his essay.

It took him a long time to piece it all together, but the truth is that Andrew really can be quite sweet, in his own terrifying way.

Nicky wonders how long it will be before he has to give Neil the sex talk too. Maybe he should offer.

Best not to; he has some self-preservation instincts, after all.

#9 Renee

Renne likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. Some of his quirks are more obvious than others, however; it doesn’t take a student of human character to notice that when Andrew wants to spar, it’s usually because he has something on his mind.

Renee is hardly in a position to judge, not when she finds the cut and blow of a vicious fistfight as cathartic as he does. There’s still a piece of Natalie Shields underneath all of Renee’s growth like the pit at the heart of a peach. Sometimes the best way of holding her down is by letting her out in controlled increments. Give her the inch so she won’t take the mile.

As usual, it is only when they have beaten each other to exhaustion and back that Andrew is ready to talk. They sit cross-legged in the centre of the room, slurping down apple-juice cartons like kids in the playground, and finally, Andrew speaks.

“I want you to train Neil.”

Renee sets her carton down. “I thought Matt was teaching him to box.”

“He’s a shit boxer.”

“Neil or Matt?”

“Both.”

Renee shakes her head. She reaches back to pull out her hair tie, letting her bangs tumble back into their usual place. “Is there a reason Neil hasn’t asked me himself?”

Andrew is silent. There it is; the heart of the matter.

Renee sighs. “I’m not going to force Neil to train with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t force Neil to do anything,” Andrew says sharply. Renee winces; it was a poor choice of words on her part.

“Why do you think he needs it?”

“Matt is teaching him how to box. It’s not the same as real fighting.”

Renee hums. “Can’t he do something for fun?”

“That’s not the point. Besides,” Andrew pauses. “Matt only knows how to fight like the fuck-off giant that he is.”

Renee can’t argue with that; Matt never had to learn the same style of combat that she and Andrew did. He may teach Neil how to throw a good punch, but there’s a big difference in stance and strategy when your opponent is a foot taller than you. Renee and Andrew learned that the hard way.

“And who is it that you think Neil is going to be fighting?”

Andrew waves one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you met him?”

“Andrew.”

“Renee,” he shoots back, imitating her tone and inflection.

“What did he say when you suggested that I teach him?”

Andrew scrunches up his features in an imitation of Neil’s ugh face. “He said that he gets enough bruises as it is.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Andrew doesn’t roll his eyes, but his eyebrows twitch as though he’s considering it. “He also said he doesn’t need to get any better. Because he…” Andrew grimaces. Sharing is still tough for him, even after years of therapy and trust. “He has me to protect him.”

“As I said,” Renee says, smiling. “He’s not wrong.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He has his moments.”

They finish their juice boxes in silence.

“Well,” says Renee, getting back to her feet. Her legs may be going stiff, but there’s still some fight left in her. There always is. “I may not be able to train Neil, but at least I can train his bodyguard to the best of my ability.” She holds her hand out to Andrew. After a moment of careful consideration, he takes it, using the pull to swing himself to his feet. “One more round?”

Andrew nods, determination setting in his eyes like concrete. “One more round.”

Renee likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. This time, as they trade hits and kicks, it isn’t anger or frustration powering Andrew’s movements; it’s something far more powerful.

She thinks – hopes – prays – that the worst of Neil’s fights are behind them. All the same, she sleeps a little easier knowing that, should the day come, Andrew will be at his back with a knife in each hand.

That’s love, after all.

Thank you for reading - please let me know what you thought <3

Still open to requests!

#aftg #andreil #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #my fic #asks #anon

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markonasurface · 5 years ago

Text

things you said i wouldn’t understand

things you said but not out loud

Thea stared down at Neil. He looked confused but stepped aside to let her pass.

“He’s sleeping,” Nicky called over his shoulder.

She walked down the short hallway and let herself into their room. Nicky was wrong. Kevin sat precariously on the window, long legs dangling outside. He didn’t turn around.

“You gonna jump?” she asked and she had to grab his arm to make sure he didn’t actually fall out. There was a loud shattering noise that let her know her idiot boyfriend was indeed sitting on the edge of a top story window, drinking.

Kevin turned and slipped back into the room with surprising coordination. His eyes passed over her as he crossed to the dresser on the other side of the room and grabbed a half full bottle of - “Are you drinking vodka? At ten-thirty am on a Monday?”

He raised the bottle to his lips and took in a mouthful. He grimaced slightly, then leaned back against the dresser. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he told her with overcareful pronunciation. “When did you get in?”

“An hour ago. Wymack picked me up.”

Kevin drank again. She waited for him to say something. He drank again.

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning, Kevin.”

“You’ve already said,” he answered and drank yet again, pointedly this time.

This was a mistake, she thought but didn’t say. Instead, she turned and walked out.

Neil leaned against the doorframe ten minutes later and asked, “Is Thea okay?” Before Kevin could ask what he was talking about, he said, “She was pulled from the lineup 30 minutes before her game last night.”

Kevin shrugged and waited for Neil to leave before digging in his pocket for his phone. He had to plug it in and wait for it to get a decent enough charge for him to turn it on. He called his girlfriend but it went straight to voicemail.

He grabbed his computer and pulled up an internet browser, typing in her name. He read a few headlines.

Theodora Muldani Missing From Friday Night Lineup

Why Thea Didn’t Play

Muldani Missing in Siren’s Lineup, Food Poisoning to Blame?

Kevin tried calling her again but was once again sent to voicemail.

“Hey,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “I’m sorry about this morning. I just heard about last night though. Are you okay? Call me back.”

Kevin caught the ball and hurled it toward Jack. Jack missed it and Kevin immediately positioned himself in front of Dan’s path to steal it back. He ignored Jack’s shout of, “I’m open!” and fired at the goal from halfway down the court.

Renee missed it by half a centimeter.

Wymack called for a break.

One of the other freshmen complained about how many balls Jack missed this scrimmage. Jack took off his helmet and said, “We’re only three points down. I’m playing better than you.”

“And yet, Kevin is five shots in this morning and outplaying both of you so that’s not really saying much, is it?”

As he walked off the court, Wymack called his name. Kevin rubbed his forehead on his shirt sleeve and walked toward his father.

“Andrew’s just talking shit,” he said. “I haven’t had anything to drink this morning.” His pounding head was a constant reminder.

Wymack looked a little skeptical but said, “Great. If you’re sober, you can go pick up Thea from the airport.” He held out keys and Kevin stared at them.

“She didn’t tell me she was coming,” he said before he could stop himself.

“Twice in one month?” Nicky raised his eyebrows but kept walking.

“She said she’s texted and called you.”

Kevin went to change. After puking, showering, puking in the shower, dressing, taking a handful of ibuprofen, and downing a bottle of water, he left for the airport. Thea was waiting out front by the time he got there.

“Hey,” she said, leaning across and kissing him.

He held her hand as they drove back toward campus. “How long are you staying?”

“I’m going back in the morning,” she answered, her voice was soft. He shot her a look but she was staring out the window.

Thea was not a soft person.

“Are you just here to check on me or …?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts so I just needed to come see you.”

“Sorry,” he said. “My phone is dead and I just haven’t gotten around to charging -”

“You look like shit.”

He gave her an amused sort of grimace.

They got to Fox Tower a little after three. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn back to her. He closed the space between them and she leaned back into the door.

He looked into her eyes, then she watched as his eyes moved to her lips, then the tip of one of her Dutch braids that he was twisting between his thumb and pointer finger. When he looked into her eyes again, she pulled him in.

His hand moved to her hip, then slowly down her thigh as he quickly deepened their kiss. His body pressed hers into the door. His fingertips trailed under her dress and she lifted her leg so her knee was pressing into his hip.

He opened his mouth, breathing hard, hands still gripping the back of her thighs. He lifted her higher for a brief moment before letting her slide her feet back to the floor.

We need to talk, she meant to say.

"Again,” she told him instead, shoulder throbbing from where he’d just bitten her. She kissed him and guided him backwards until they reached the bedroom.

When he opened his eyes, Thea was staring at him. He closed his eyes again and breathed deeply. He kissed her shoulder where a bruise was forming and asked, “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, sounding distracted.

His arm was over her waist and he pulled her closer so their chests were pressed together. He moved to kiss her jaw and she wanted to say again but she forced herself to say, “We need to talk.”

Kevin pulled away, looking displeased. Talking was his least favorite thing to do these days, mostly because whenever someone talked to him, they wanted to discuss his “drinking problem.”

So he was surprised when the next words out of her mouth were, “I’m pregnant.”

Only then did he realize neither of them had thought to use a condom today, though it was probably deliberate on her part because she already knew they didn’t need one. Kevin had been careless.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he sat up. “Pregnant? We haven’t since -”

“Riko’s funeral,” she reminded him, sitting up, too. “This baby was probably conceived in the same bed you lost your virginity to - what was her name? Lauren? Liv?”

Her tone was cold. Thea was trying to rile him. He didn’t bother correcting her.

“Maybe we should have that bed shipped to us -”

He tuned her out, trying to do the math in his head. Riko had died in April. His funeral was held in May. She was still talking but he asked, “What are you, seven, eight weeks along?”

“Something like that.”

“Have you been to a doctor? Does your team doctor know?”

“Of course not,” she hissed, looking offended.

Kevin considered the information he had. “Are you going to keep it?”

Immediately he knew he had said the wrong thing. Thea turned. “Am I going to keep it?”

“That’s not what I meant -”

“I’m the woman so of course it falls on me, right? I shouldn’t have told you.”

He grabbed her arm to stop her from climbing out of his bed. “Thea, that’s not what I meant. I-I-I -” His head was spinning. He felt himself start to shake. He needed a drink.

Thea pulled her arm out of his grasp and pulled the sheet higher. “I just told you I’m pregnant and you’re thinking about your next drink.”

He wanted to refute it but he didn’t want to be a liar.

“I’ve been patient,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “After everything you’ve been through and not being able to tell anyone for so long. I’ve tried to be supportive even as you destroy yourself and try to push everyone away.

“I thought when I told you I was looking for an answer from you, a-a-a declaration, a promise?” She shook her head. “Now I know I should’ve taken care of this myself and left you out of it completely.”

He offered his hand but she didn’t take it. He shook his head at it. “Thea, I’ll promise you anything you want if you want this baby,” he said. When she looked away he huffed a short laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t know how much harder women have to work. I train twice as much as the men on my team because if I don’t, coaches will think I’m not dedicated enough. I stop 73 percent more attempts at the quarter line than Thompson and he still gets paid twice as much as I do.”

Kevin never dared to interrupt Thea when she was making a point.

“I can’t risk throwing away my career in the hopes that you’ll stop drinking and you’ll be there for us.” A tear fell down her cheek. “Even if it upsets my parents or you, I don’t think I can have this baby.”

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about, but he knew everything she was saying was true. He was a 21 year old alcoholic with so many traumas he hadn’t even tried to start processing. Even without his issues, he would never ask her to give up Exy.

Thea climbed down the ladder and pulled her dress over her head. When she opened the bedroom door voices carried in.

“No one wants you in this apartment,” Nicky said.

“I just wanted to see if Kevin wants to run some drills tonight,” came Jack’s voice. “Oh.”

Kevin opened his mouth but Thea walked out.

“Thea! Nice to see you -”

She pushed past Nicky and snatched her bra from Jack’s outstretched hand. She stooped to pick up her panties and Wymack’s car keys, slipped on her shoes and left.

She sat in the car for awhile, trying to stop crying.

Four weeks later

When she left practice, she was surprised to see Kevin leaning against her car. She heard some of her teammates whispering. Even in the pros Kevin Day was a big deal.

He straightened as she came near. She stopped in from of him, a hand on her hip.

She expected him to ask her if they could talk. Instead, he reached out and took her hand, eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes narrowed slightly but then she realized there was something in the hand he had taken hers with.

Slowly, she opened her hand so she could see what was there. On her palm was a round, red chip. She looked back at him, eyes slightly rounder and wet.

She moved her duffle bag around to her front and opened the side pocket. She removed the envelope and held it out to Kevin.

His eyebrows furrowed and she saw his fingers trembling a little as he opened it. He took out the photo, stared, the crease in his forehead getting deeper. She saw the moment it registered as he glanced back up at her face, a question in his eyes. She nodded.

When he grabbed her hand again, Thea felt the tears falling down her cheeks. He pulled her to him, his other hand coming around to cup the back of her head as he pressed his lips firmly to hers.

She heard some wolf-whistles as she fisted the front of his jacket in her hands, a mixture of relief and nerves fluttering around in her chest.

They pulled apart only for Kevin to pull her back in again. They would have to talk but for now the red chip said everything she need to hear.

#aftg #tfc #kevin x thea #tfc fic #Things You Said

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xlady-saya · 5 years ago

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i’ve had a love of my own [ch 1]

Relationships: andrew/neil

Summary: Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

Tags: interviews, post canon, major character death but not how u think I swear lol, neil is an old man retelling his memories about andrew, cheesy romance, post retirement, see more tags on ao3

Read on ao3!

Neil pricks himself on the old Palmetto pin as he fixes it to his collar, jabbing the same spot on his thumb he hit just a week before.

He hardly winces at the feeling these days, and for a long time, Matt joked about how he really couldn't go a day without attracting some form of violence. Neil smiles at the thought, because it's far from the truth. He stands by the claim he never asked for fights, simply had no problem finishing them.

"You mean letting me finish them," Andrew would quip, and they'd go back and forth all over again in a never-ending argument. It's so never-ending, Neil goes through the motions of it even now, however many decades later.

This pin tends to start it, since it's the only remotely dangerous thing he owns now. The orange is still bright and obnoxious, with criss crossing Exy racquets in a bright white. He's memorized the raised edges, tilted from old age. The once silver backing has rust spots, but no one ever sees that part. It has its reputation intact, and Neil smiles sardonically.

It's not the only thing that's been worn down, but he likes to think he doesn't look as bad as he could too. Laughing at his own joke, he taps the pin lightly. It's apparently vintage now, according to Allison, since the new Palmetto merch has drifted into neon territory.

Neil is glad he kept his own. It's especially important today, he thinks, that he shows as much fondness for the past as possible. Though, it's not for his sake. His room is nothing but littered with the tokens of the past.

Sighing, he stares fondly out across the living room, the walls haphazardly decorated with old, signed jerseys his friends used to wear. He has one from each of their old teams, but picked his favorites to go up on the wall. The rest sit in storage, ready to be auctioned off whenever he decides living is too much of a chore. Above the mantle, Andrew's racquet from his last team hangs in a shadow box. Then below it, framed pictures which Neil tries to rotate as best he can, some of them shitty ones converted from his phone camera. Mostly, they're of his Foxes at various points in their lives. The only two photos which stay the same are the one he took with Andrew and Kevin at the Olympics, and the snapshot of him and Andrew at the airport in his first year at Palmetto.

If he had to catalog the room, that would barely scratch the surface. He's pages away from mentioning Nicky's terribly made mugs, Betsy's first editions, and cookie tins filled with postcards Katelyn and Aaron sent twenty years ago.

Most of the time, the untidy collection of junk surrounding him is a comfort. It makes the small apartment feel like home, or as close as he can get when he's by himself. He swears some of the items still carry the unique scents of grass stains and floor polish, or Allison's perfume and the glitter glue from Dan and Matt's kids.

When that fails him, the candle he has in every room does the trick to fill in the blanks. Andrew used the same scent for over half their life together: breakfast pancakes. It's sickly sweet and stains the furniture, and Neil loves nothing more than to bury his face in the cushions after a day of having them lit.

These are the things that ground him, that keep him in place, but today he feels fidgety for the first time in years. He shouldn't be, he thinks, laughing to himself. He planned this after all, it's just...

Well, he's never been the best at talking to people.

There's a knock at his door, and the cuckoo clock on the wall (shockingly, that one is his fault) tells him it's right on schedule. Neil sighs, slipping his feet into the white slippers beneath him. "Come in, Sydney."

The nurse on his floor opens the door to his apartment with a smile, too fresh faced and early for this time of day. She’s young, and she's always been a bit cheery for his taste, but she reminds him of Katelyn and he allows it. In the last few years, when Andrew's migraines prevented him from reading, she'd bring him audiobook gift cards.

She smiles bright, and he gives her that look for her to cut it out. At this point, she's less put off by it and more amused. He only tells her to save the smiles because if she doesn't she'll have wrinkles like him years from now. He hates how much he sounds like Allison.

Neil hardly looks in the mirror anymore, but this morning he put in some effort. He looks as perpetually tired as he always looked back in the day, except now his eye bags are accompanied by wrinkles that form their own topographical map on his face.

At least he didn't lose all his hair.

The only thing is his blue eyes are as piercing as ever, so coupled with the grandpa look, he's quite intimidating. Not that he needs to be, but it's nice to feel a little capable when he can barely walk by himself anymore.

"Morning, Mr. Josten," Sydney greets, untucking the wheelchair from behind the door and pushing it over to him. He makes sure to grab Andrew's favorite crochet blanket. He hates messing with it, but he thinks the smell of nicotine it carries will help him today. Refresh his memory.

Neil grumbles, but lets her help him into the chair. He has on his good lounge pants, without holes, and his old Palmetto sweater. "I told you years ago I hate being called that."

"Because it makes you feel old," she jabs, teasing lightly. Even still, she's gentle when she places the blanket over his lap and hands him his glasses. "I have to keep you in line somehow."

"Ha-ha."

As she wheels him out of his room, he starts fidgeting again. He's used to exploring the luxury nursing home on his own time, not because he has somewhere to be. He hasn't had somewhere to be since...well, he hates thinking about that, lest he run into a memory that hurts more than helps.

Today isn't the day for that.

Some other, more able-bodied residents pass by him on foot, waving amicably and knowing better than to expect a wave back. Shockingly, he's well liked here, probably because he doesn't have rowdy grandkids who break the peace. Plus, he's pretty sure some of them are old fans.

Sydney leans down as they pass through the common area and into one of the meeting rooms, the spotless linoleum floor throwing him off as usual. He never would've picked a place so expensive and fancy for himself, but Andrew was always someone with classy tastes. "Ready for today?"

At the reminder, Neil wrings his fingers together. Not advised by his doctor, but fuck that guy. "As ready as I'll ever be," he says, glaring at the glass doors ahead. Sydney laughs, placing him at the end of a large table. The meeting room creeps him out, since it's mostly used for family meetings or will planning appointments. Sound proof, silent.

"Oh hush, you're a famous athlete, I'm sure you've faced worse," she chides, pouring him a glass of water without any ice. Because he's a fiend. Neil rolls his eyes; she has no idea. He's threatened countless reporters before for stepping even a toe out of line, but some recent college grads from an indie publication are making him sweat more than an Exy game. Sydney makes a show of whispering behind her hand. "Besides, I heard from Gabe at the front desk they look terrified, so go easy on them, yes? Can't have another cafeteria incident."

Ugh, not that again.

"You have no witnesses," he waves off, leaning back in his seat while Sydney sets the break in place. Only then is he hit with a wave of calm, fondness even. His quivering hands curl as best they can in the blanket, the ghost of a grip, and he smiles out across the room. Ah, he can't be doing this already, but it's hard to help. He itches for the smell of a cigarette, a press on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries his best to feel it. "Besides, once they know why they're really here they won't be nearly so stressed. Hell, they might even be disappointed."

He tries not to grimace at that, but for the time he's giving them and the paperwork he made them sign, they're going to sit and listen to his old man ravings all day or so help him--

He feels a hand brush against his, and when he looks Sydney is there. She squeezes his fingers in hers, smile fond and weighed down with a sadness so foreign, he nearly regrets telling her to cut it out. But no, he understands. He's the one who understands the most. She grazes the fabric of the blanket as she pulls away, breathing in the same smoke he can for just a moment. "No, I don't think that's possible."

She doesn't give Neil time to doubt himself, not that he could. He can never doubt anything when it comes to Andrew, no matter how much the blond secretly doubted about himself. Neil always teased him for that, and his living oxymoron ways.

Neil's biggest goal of the day is to piss off Andrew's ghost as much as humanly possible, and his grin is nearly splitting at the thought. Fine, mission active.

"Good luck!" Sydney calls as she leaves the meeting room, and he watches her gesture to his guests once they arrive through the glass doors.

Oh shit, they really do look terrified.

The two interviewers see him through the door and Neil can only assume they shit a brick. They're young, can't be more than a few years out of university, dressed way too professionally for someone as uncaring as Neil. They could've shown up in clown costumes for all he cared, at least he would've gotten a good laugh.

The young man fumbles with the door and his companion rushes forward a little too fast before correcting herself. Jeez.

Neil does his best to hide his laugh, not that he's ever been polite. It's more...

Their terror is Neil's fault. He started declining interviews soon after he retired, letting his name and lifestyle fade into mystery and speculation with the public. Kevin had not been happy about it, since to this day he and Thea are in the public eye, commentating on Exy games, doing talk shows, helping curate museums, blah, blah, blah...

Neil didn't have time for that.

He never thought he'd be okay with slipping back into unknown status after so many years of being seen, being cheered for, but when the time came it was an easy choice. Andrew made it so. Neil had his time to be free, to do whatever he wanted and play the sport he loved. But ultimately, when he no longer could, fucking off to do whatever he wanted with Andrew sounded way better than dealing with reporters and overzealous fans.

Just because he became an unknown though, doesn't mean he faded into obscurity. According to Allison, his life has been quite a hot button issue in the community for over a decade. People want to know where he's been, what he did during those years, how he looks back on the past, everything. It's been obnoxious.

Popular sports magazines and large publications have practically been clawing for a piece of him for years, and he's never given in no matter how many fruit bouquets they sent or how many checks they tried to write him. Though, one almost got him purely because they kept sending gourmet chocolates, and if Andrew was a glutton before, old age only made it worse.

So, Neil Josten is back to being a subject of interest for some reason, someone people want to know everything about. For him to randomly call up a dying indie magazine and offer them full rights to an interview under his specific terms surely threw the sports world into a fucking whirl.

Whatever.

He's going to share what he wants to share. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Mr. Jo--" The first reporter clears his throat, passing his notepad and phone over to his other hand before outstretching one to Neil. "Mr. Josten. It's such an honor to meet you, um, wow. I'm Blake, and this is Rayah. We're so grateful for being granted the opportunity to interview you. You're a legend!"

Neil stares at the outstretched hand like he doesn't know what to do with it, and as much as he does know what's expected of him, part of his hesitation is equal parts his disinterest and the fact he doesn't talk to anyone but his remaining family these days. Well, and Sydney.

Blake swallows and drops his hand, surely admonishing himself for his own stupidity.

Rayah saves him. "Um, we really are appreciative, sir," she says, laying out some notepads and setting up her recorder. Old school, Neil appreciates it. It's better than cameras and microphones. "We're still in shock honestly. We were theorizing on why you picked us the entire drive up here!"

"Neil is fine, and don't bother with small talk I know it's not why you're here," he says then, smiling at her words. They both flinch, taken aback. He's not sure why they'd be expecting a Kevin Day type. He has a record for being too blunt and argumentative for his own good. He's right though; they're here for answers, not discussions on how he's doing or what he does for fun in his not so humble nursing home. In much the same vein, he promised honesty, so he'll give it from the start. "I picked you precisely because you're unknown and failing."

They freeze, but they're clearly not Foxes. If they were, they'd immediately get indignant and glare, hold themselves back from punching a helpless old man. Oh, those were the good ol' days.

When Rayah fumbles for a response, a logic, Neil simply shrugs. "I like the underdogs."

He doesn't intend it to be, but it's a tension breaker. The stiffness in the reporters' shoulders deflate with a laugh, and they finally get back to organizing themselves without looking like they want to run for the hills and beg ESPN to take over.

"As your history suggests," Blake jokes, and Neil rewards him with a grin, tapping his Foxes pin.

He doesn't mention the fact Andrew would've never spoken to him had he gone to some trashy magazine, and that Andrew was always a bit of a rebel himself, though he hated to admit to any kind of urge that didn't involve Neil, sweets, or fancy cars.

Neil takes the free moment to wrap his blanket around his shoulders, letting the ingrained smell of ash permeate around him. Much better, he can think so much clearer like this.

As they finish setting up and take their seats across from him, Blake taps his pencil against the rim of his notepad. It looks like he almost wants to launch back into small talk, but thinks better of it when he remembers Neil's words. Considerate, a good listener. Just what Neil needs today.

Blake clears his throat, cutting through the bullshit. "Now, we know you have specific terms for how you want to lead this interview, which we're completely fine with. Wherever you want to start, we'll follow."

And with that, they sit back, unsure but ready to catch whatever morsel of information might fall from Neil's lips. Again, he finds himself fighting a smirk.

Of course, he led these people astray a bit, but he doesn't see the problem with having a little fun before revealing his true intentions.

He nods, pushing down the giddy feeling that always comes with talking about Andrew. Not yet, but soon.

"Hm, I assume you prepared some questions just in case," Neil asks, taking a sip of his water.

Rayah blinks, exchanging a look with Blake. She rifles through her notepad to a page in the middle, scribbled and stained with ink. There are so many questions on it, some of them curve over the others in a painful word twister. "Uh yes but, we didn't think you'd want to answer them," she guesses.

She's correct.

Neil loathes interview questions, because they're predictable. But in this case, he'll let the first one lead him down the road.

Neil relents, leaning back in his wheelchair. "Well you're mostly right, but why don't you ask me your first one?" He offers, and they look positively ecstatic. "That'll get me started."

And once he starts, he doubts he'll be able to stop.

"Sure." Blake clears his throat, making sure his recorder is functioning properly. When he's satisfied, he leans back, mirroring Neil's posture, though the rigidity is still there. If he doesn't lighten up, he's going to have back pains for days. "Now, there have been a lot of milestones in your career as a pro athlete. No one would dream of disputing your skill in the sport, or how you earned any of your countless awards--"

"Flattery," Neil warns, raising a single finger. That's not what he's here for either. In fact, as much as this is his interview, it's not about him at all.

"Right," Blake says with a huff of a laugh. "But surely one of your brightest moments was your historic win at the Olympics. It was talked about for months within the community. Of course, any true Exy fan knows the details of the game, it was only covered by every major publication. So, I guess our question is, what do you most remember about that moment? Was it as monumental for you as it was for Exy fans?"

Ah, a predictable question, but also not a bad place to begin. Neil doesn't fight the edge of the smirk that appears, though he does raise his thumb to swipe at it. It's been a while since he's felt so mischievous, it's so difficult to be, well, difficult when you're being wheeled around all day.

It was a monumental moment for him, though maybe not for the reasons everyone else would think.

"You certainly did your research," he comments, humming as he sits back in thought. He already knows his answer, but he's weak, and the feelings the memory evokes barely need to push him to send him careening off balance. Swept up. "Not sure what I was expecting from people so young, but my apologies for making assumptions."

He's glad they didn't ask the question in the stereotypical format, fishing for ways to brag and make it all about him. When he thinks of that time, as proud as he was, it's not his own praise that comes to mind.

With that in mind, Neil sighs.

"I don't think it was an exaggeration to say that was one of the best days of my life," he admits, and it's the truth. He's not here to lie. Come to think of it, he hasn't lied once since Andrew ran on ahead of him. Smiling, Neil lets the words flow.

"It was important to me, but not all because of the Olympics themselves..."

Neil rarely has time to pay attention in Exy games, as horrible and inefficient as that sounds.

His feet move on their own accord like a well-oiled machine, cogs and steam rushing through him to propel him across the court at record speeds. And they are record speeds.

That's why he's here isn't it? To run, to score.

It had been overwhelming when he first arrived, the sheer size of the Exy court at the Olympics. It's surrounded by flags from all over the world, bright neon signs and sponsorships. The lights at the entrance had been so vibrant, he made the mistake of looking up at them.

Blinding.

All aspects about it are, because as much as Neil knows this is his life, it can't possibly be reality.

The crowd makes the one at the Ravens' stadium seem minuscule, out of its league with seats and aisles that almost climb up to the heavens. The crowd roars and Neil feels every cheer and stomp echo against his bones.

He never thought he'd be here, but despite the gravity of it, he no longer has the time nor want to dwell on it. All that matters is his team, and getting them the gold.

Being with Andrew afterwards...getting to see Wymack smile proudly at Kevin.

Letting Kevin be proud of himself.

And Neil is an Olympic-qualified player, so with all that in mind, he delivers the second best game of his life. Even in the final seconds of the second half, even when he's been body checked so many times the nuts and bolts he imagines inside him must surely be worn and off-kilter, he doesn't stop moving. Everything is instinct, from the force of his steps to the last minute shifts he needs to intercept the ball.

It's not Kevin's perfect strategy, it's not a map or an out of body experience where he can see where every player on the court is.

He has no idea what's going on outside of what's in front of him, no awareness of anything but the immediate threats and a certain beacon, standing in the goal.

And that's the hardest part of it all, not being able to look over at Andrew for even a moment after he scores, because the game is fast and ruthless, and he has twice the energy of anyone on this court.

It's a stupid way to play, if he's really supposed to be Kevin's double. But they all long since established he is far from it. He has his own passion, his own drive, and Kevin trusts Neil with his life on the court.

Probably through anything.

So when he sees the perfect opportunity for a final interception, a chance to get them the last winning goal of the game, he's surprised that it's the one moment where it all comes to a stop. He's never had the experience before; normally his body snaps into action. He's not used to comprehending things until they're said and done.

He thinks his body is still following through though, turning in just the right way, making sure he's lined up.

But Neil is aware of so much more, his eyes train like a predator's on the goal, and he understands. He has a choice.

Choices are a weird luxury now, but he's gotten so used to having the freedom of them, he's forgotten the sheer magnitude they can carry.

His eyes snap to the goal, and then to Kevin. Kevin, who is so much closer, and already looking right at Neil.

And Neil never describes himself as fond towards most people, but he can say it proudly in that moment. This is the Kevin Day he likes to see.

Green eyes stare back, blown wide with a fire that can't be matched by anyone, probably not even his own mother, maybe not even Neil. A true, unadulterated love for this violent, freeing sport. Kevin catches Neil's eyes through his face guard, forehead drenched in sweat but his entire being rings with energy, ready and unwilling to quit until the buzzer sounds.

A Fox, at heart. Neil knows Andrew can see from where he's standing in goal, and Neil knows he's just as satisfied, deep down. It might give him some peace of mind too, to know Kevin kept his spine.

Neil puts all of those emotions into his last movement of the game.

He inclines his head just so, and that's it.

Kevin moves.

As Neil's racquet intercepts the ball from the other team's striker, he can't help but be a bit smug as he takes a powerful step forward. He can hear the painful slide of his shoes against the court floor, the heat of being too close, too exposed.

His legs will surely be shot after this, but no matter.

Kevin Day was always meant to be the greatest player in the history of Exy, the reigning queen, despite the arrogance they'll surely have to hear non-stop about. Fine. It's only fair that Neil help him achieve that goal here, at the biggest stadium in the world.

(By no means the best one, but still).

The clock gets down to five seconds, the beats resounding off the walls of his skull. Neil swings his racquet with such force the strings whistle, and the ball moves in a straight line directly into Kevin's. The other striker has zero time to react, the force of Neil's brutal cut off sending him stumbling. The ball hits Kevin's strings hard, Kevin's grip tightening around his racquet to keep it close to him.

Kevin doesn't hesitate longer than that.

He shoots at the goal in one fluid arch, and scores.

As confident as Neil is in Kevin's aim and skill, he'll admit his stomach swoops. It's a feeling that never truly goes away, much like the instincts that keep him moving. He wouldn't trade it for anything, that millisecond exhilaration before it comes together.

Because well, at one point nothing ever fell into place for him.

In the flash where the ball hits the net, Neil feels the ghost of a key in his palm, reminding him when that changed. The buzzer of the countdown blares, and all that anticipation meets a well-deserved end.

The stadium erupts until not even the buzzer can be heard. There's a swish of plexiglass doors, the sounds of their coach yelling in triumph, but Neil's body is too spent to react.

Neil's heart constricts in his chest as he tries to get air in, but it's impossible. Satisfied doesn't even begin to cover it, though he's sure he looks just as breathless as Kevin does, staring at the goal as it lights up. The world moves around him, respecting his moment of privacy when they should be hoisting him up and not allowing him a minute of disbelief. Neil's glad they don't; Kevin deserves to look surprised once in a while.

His teammates pile on each other, clapping him as they pass. A lot of them are still in shock, a few fall to their knees right away, but Neil feels nothing but fulfilled.

He made the right call.

His body sags, stinging, and he feels Andrew's gaze pinning him upright from across the court. It's the only thing that gets him walking, but he wills himself not to look in his boyfriend's direction.

If he does well...nothing else will matter, and there's one thing he has to do.

In a haze, he goes over to Kevin, who turns, sensing him. Neil shakes his head at Kevin's arrogance to this day, because even though Kevin is the one who made this possible for him, who came to him first...

Well, he still lets Neil do all the work. Neil laughs and hugs Kevin fiercely, barely keeping himself upright, and they trade the trembling in their bodies. Kevin drops his racquet, their height difference making them look all the more pathetic. He can hear Andrew's voice already, telling them they're too emotional about a damn sport.

Somehow, that makes Neil even happier, and he leans back as Kevin pries his helmet off, eyes wild and smiling.

Yes, the right choice. Absolutely.

"We did it," Kevin says, but not in disbelief. He had to have known they'd always make it here. "We did it."

Neil squeezes his friend's shoulder and grins, uncaring of what camera catches it. He's too damn happy to care. "Guess we did."

The crowd cheers so loud Neil can't hear more than a faint buzz in his ears, and the sticky scent of gatorade and sweat is an unfortunate addition. The cameras flash and shine obnoxiously through the double plexiglass to bathe them in light and attention.

Yet, with his legs feeling like jelly and his muscles stretched to the limits, there's only one thing he really wants. What he always wants.

Warmth, safety, something to lean on and keep him sheltered from the world before facing it alongside him. Neil hates that before, the only thing he yearned for was to play Exy. He thought that was bad.

This is so much worse.

Biting his lip, Neil turns to where Andrew is standing in the goal, already looking at him from across the court. And Andrew, with all his control, keeps himself planted there. Neil's breathing hiccups loudly, and Kevin's probably the only one who hears it over the cacophony.

Neil doesn't think he can cry anymore, but his eyes tighten up, he has to blink the pain away.

Neil wonders if Andrew's gripping his racquet hard enough to damage it, if he's digging his heels into the ground like Neil is.

Neil swallows down the lump in his throat. Suddenly, he hates the cameras more than usual; he's torn between wanting them to vanish completely, or wishing they paid as much attention to Andrew, because god, he's earned it.

Neil digs his heels in harder.

I want to be with you.

It's such a simple string of thought; it has crossed his mind so many times before, but never has the urge hurt so much. It has nothing to do with all he's worked for, with the fame and recognition this win will bring him. It's just Andrew.

He hasn't had a knife to his skin in years, but this reminds him of the piercing of flesh, lighting his nerves on end and sending him towards the source of his relief, his contentment.

Andrew played so well, so well, not just here. He worked his way through the pros until he got to Neil, worked his ass off for his reputation. He qualified with the rest of them to be here.

And tonight, he blocked almost every shot at his goal.

Neil closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down but he can't. This is one of the best moments of his life. If he can't share it with Andrew to the fullest, what was the point of everything in his past?

They're not out. That's the problem, he knows, as much as he doesn't give a single fuck. No one outside their family and management knows anything about them, apart from some tabloid rumors about their intense dislike of one another. If that doesn't prove how clueless the media is, Neil doesn't know what does.

And as much as they value privacy, as much as their peaceful bubble is enough, it's moments like these where Neil wants to take and show no matter the consequences.

He looks to Kevin, unsure. It's always been him, the one who warned them about the backlash they'd face despite his acceptance of their relationship years ago.

Neil expects the same thing here: the subtle shake of Kevin's head, the concern in his eyes for their careers and future. It used to piss Neil off to no end, but Kevin communicates all emotion through Exy, even concern. Neil's learned to read between those infuriating lines. The importance of career translates to 'without your career, there is no you.' Sometimes he forgets he's not entirely free.

And if he weren't around, then Andrew...

'You can't leave him.'

And so, knowing Kevin's language, Neil stayed in line, and he expects that same advice today. To his surprise though, it never comes. Kevin is looking at him, tired smile firmly in place as he nudges a shoulder in Andrew's direction. Neil's mouth falls open, and yes, he's convinced now. It's a dream, it's all one big dream. Except--

Kevin shakes his head. It's not resigned, or worried. He's just happy for them both. He pushes Neil away, straightening his back in preparation for his fans. Royal snob. "Go on already. You guys are gross."

And despite the laugh that falls from his mouth, Neil's breathing stutters, and he hadn't realized how wound up he truly was until it happens. His lungs fill with air and he throws his racquet to the ground. His self-control is poor, they all know that. Encouragement is all he needs to break him and send him where he belongs.

He takes off in a full sprint towards Andrew as the rest of his teammates crowd Kevin, looking after Neil in confusion.

Huh, so his muscles still work after all. The tendons are on fire, but it's the least of his concerns. He runs like his life depends on it again, faster than he ran during that whole game.

And to Neil's absolute delight, Andrew's body language screams 'finally.'

The blond takes a step forward, throwing his racquet to the side like it's worthless. Oh. Andrew's bracing to catch him, and Neil laughs at the realization as he throws off his helmet. One day he'll actually make Andrew fall over, but for now he enjoys the strength.

He jumps into Andrew's arms effortlessly, feels calloused hands wrap around his waist as Neil reaches for the clips of Andrew's helmet. Despite knowing the barrier is there as he fumbles with it, he leans forward, lips grazing the metal guard. Andrew huffs, and Neil claws until the helmet clatters to the floor. He throws it a bit far, and it hits the goal post with a clang, but he doesn't care in the moment. If all eyes are on them now, he can't feel them. They're in a vacuum, a side effect of being so taken with Andrew at times. Unaware, vulnerable. The rush of sound from before goes dead around them. His fingertips can feel overheated skin, can trace the barely-there freckles on Andrew's face.

Andrew isn't in the mood to let Neil admire today.

Neil barely gets to see the color in Andrew's eyes before the goalie's hand grips in between Neil's shoulder blades, pulling him down.

It reminds him of their first kiss; Neil catches Andrew's lips and, as if not believing they're real, that something could feel so wonderful, he pulls back. His eyes widen, the first hit of a drug. He breaks the kiss only to dive right back in, uncoordinated but so sure of himself. And he doesn't get how, but Andrew smells the same as back then. Less like cigarettes, but the same smell of leather and earthiness. Neil doesn't read nearly as much as Andrew does to have the capability of describing it, but it's refreshing, like soil after the rain. Through the sweat and exhaustion, Neil would know him anywhere.

Andrew opens his mouth for him first, breath hot but movements predictable. Neil will tease him later for that. You're getting old. Because the dance is so familiar, the way Andrew pushes Neil's tongue back first. 'Come and get me.'

Neil obliges every single time, because he can't back down from a challenge, and maybe he's getting old too.

Neil knows the kiss can't last forever, especially not here, but he allows himself to pretend it's not the case. Andrew hums into him, and Neil's hands feel all the vibrations from where his hand slips down to Andrew's throat. It's bared completely for him, and Neil gives a little squeeze.

He sighs into Andrew's mouth when his boyfriend's eyes open to glare at him, pulling back before kissing Neil again, and then one more time, and maybe just once...

One more, Neil thinks, brushing his lips against Andrew's so lightly they stick for a moment, and he licks his own slowly when he pulls back for the final time. His heart beats in his ribcage, or maybe that's the pounding of the reporters' feet as they rush through the stadium, he's not sure.

Again, it's always best for him to not look at Andrew if he's supposed to be doing something else, because in that moment, the blond has all Neil's attention.

They're already pressed chest to chest, but Andrew squeezes tighter, almost painful, keeping Neil there through the flashing of cameras and shocked cheers.

And while Andrew's expression gives nothing away for the public, it speaks volumes to Neil.

Neil didn't know what old meant back then, now that his legs give out after a good walk or his spine aches under the weight of nothing.

But they were predictable, that much was true.

Neil isn't looking at the reporters anymore, too focused on trying to weave the fraying threads of the blanket back into place. From their silence, he can guess they're as shocked as he expected them to be.

Unaffected, Neil reaches over for his water, taking a sip as he confronts their slack jaws and wide eyes.

Now, that might have been a bit unfair of him as well, to jump into such a blatant romantic recollection about Andrew. Again, Neil never took interviews, rarely took questions, but the subject of his relationship with Andrew was especially off limits for decades. What they had was theirs, and only theirs, even after outing themselves that day.

People naturally tried to pry, tried to dig up their past in hopes of justifying what they saw as a nonsensical relationship or gossip fuel.

Neil made them fear for their lives after that.

He eviscerated publications, reporters, top sports officials, talk shows hosts, pretty much whoever he needed to. Anything to keep Andrew's name out of their mouths. A lot of them sealed their place in the land of irrelevancy, media outlets were slammed by a combination of their fans, and Kevin's too, once he stood up in support.

Andrew always hated it, Neil's desperate need to protect him from words that no longer phased him, but Neil didn't care. It was one of the only things they fought about in their adult years.

It worked though; soon, all the major outlets aside from the tabloids stopped talking about it, knowing mentioning it in any way that wasn't positive or neutral would land them in a ton of hot water.

Even those online sources who refused to let up eventually fizzed out from lack of material; they tried their best to be nosy, but pretty much got nothing but some rare paparazzi photos a few times a year of them kissing in the park or on a date.

In short, it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you don't talk to Neil Josten about Andrew Minyard unless you have nothing but good things to say, and a lot of people are too chicken shit to take the risk and potentially insult him. That's the only disappointing thing, none of them have a shred of courage. Neil really would talk all day about Andrew if people just approached it correctly.

Not that Andrew would've allowed it when he was alive.

Take that.

Despite all the fear Neil instilled in the media, it never stopped the other famous Foxes from talking about how gooey and devoted he and Andrew were, but Neil let that slide.

The things he does for family.

So it makes sense that these reporters seemed to have forgotten Andrew's importance at all, another offense. Not just because he was the best goalie in Exy history, but because Neil was first and foremost, Andrew's.

Blake's mouth opens and closes, pen dangling precariously from his hand. "Are...are we allowed to ask about Andrew?"

Blake even flinches after he asks it, afraid that perhaps it's only okay for Neil to bring up.

If you only knew.

Neil laughs, too relaxed to hold back anymore. The reporters stare, exchanging nervous glances with excitement tingling below the surface.

Yes, he supposes details about his relationship with Andrew are more secretive and sought after than even Neil's opinions. The reporters weren't even going to try.

But now, there's morsels of information dangling in front of them, and Neil need only give them permission. It's their lucky day.

Neil's smile fades into something gentler, wistful. It's the closest he gets now, to how he looked at Andrew. But it's still different, because that expression...

Well, Andrew is gone. What more is there to say?

Neil leans back, wringing his hands softly. "I guess it's only fair that I tell you the real reason I accepted this interview."

The reporters lean forward, holding their breath, but Neil doesn't feel like making them wait. It's all about Andrew now, like he wanted it to be. "I want to talk about Andrew, plain and simple."

Except when it's not.

Their relationship was anything but simple but Neil cherished each memory, and he wants to speak them aloud so no one forgets. He wants everyone to know how important this person was to him, so when he's gone and can't defend them, people can't speculate or taint it with their unasked for opinions.

"I've never had the opportunity to really reminisce about Andrew, not even with my family," Neil admits. He and Aaron and Katelyn would sit around the fireplace at their home sometimes, telling stories, or Kevin would send him old pictures or clips of Andrew playing. But never the intimate details, never the raw, and at times complicated feelings. "It never felt right, even after he was gone. I wanted to keep it close still, so I wouldn't betray Andrew's trust."

Neil takes a deep breath, and it shakes his small frame, a cough escaping his lungs. His voice is rough, but no less sure when he continues. "But I know now what he'd say to that. That I couldn't, even if my dumb Exy brain tried really hard."

But he'd never.

He smiles, wiping his eyes when they aren't even wet. That's another thing he misunderstood back then. Neil thought he couldn't cry, but he's sure today he'll prove his younger self wrong.

Rayah and Blake stay silent through all of Neil's pauses, and the respect means more than he can say. Andrew would approve, he'd be okay with Neil's choice. That's what matters most, he thinks.

"For once I just want everyone to know how I felt, I want to tell you everything as I saw and felt it, so you can tell everyone else," Neil says, and hopes they can read between the lines for the rest. Ultimately, when he's dead he'll be nothing but bones in the dirt, his legacy won't mean much in the long run. But...if nothing else, he wants this to remain, for as long as it can.

He never cared before about it, but he guesses age really can put a new perspective on things. Neil sighs, and taps the table with his finger for lack of anything better to do. When he looks back up, he has their undivided attention, Rayah's brown eyes shining with unshed emotion. None of that, not yet. "Anyways, now that you know I misled you, I hope you're still alright with listening to me ramble for the next few hours."

If not, they can kindly fuck off, but Neil has his suspicions at this point that they'll stick around. As much as Neil prides himself on reading people's intentions well, he's quite horrible at reading people's feelings. But maybe he's improved in that arena too.

A price for everything, he thinks ruefully, reminding himself there's a break in between this session for him to take his pain pills.

Eventually, it's Rayah who stutters a response. "Of course it's alright! We're so honored! And not just in the...bullshit way."

She closes her mouth immediately after at the unprofessionalism of it, but it only makes Neil feel more at ease. He smirks, satisfied. "Noted."

"Mr. Jo--Neil, we really are happy to write about you and Andrew but I have to admit," Blake says, flipping through his notepad with a tight look on his face. "The questions we did prepare as backup don't exactly lend themselves to anything about your life with Andrew."

It's precisely why Neil stated he'd mostly be doing the talking initially, but their first test question actually did end up helping move him along, so...

Neil shrugs, gesturing to the notebook with fierce determination.

These people are about to learn...

He can make anything about Andrew.

When he smiles at the two of them again, they must feel it deep down. They return it tenfold, and then Rayah clicks her pen.

And with the pleasantries out of the way, Neil opens up to everything he's been keeping locked away.

"Try me."

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten

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