#andrew should have thought about what happens next after catching neil

[nekojitachan]

Okay, so this is... IDK what this is. I guess this is the bare bones of my take on The Old Guard with the Monsters/AFTG.

Uhm, warning for people dying/violence, not in very nice ways, some of them (Nicky’s is vaguely tied to canon if you think about it).

*******

Somehow, it didn’t come as a big surprise to Anders when he and his twin came back to life after being killed by the raiders who’d stormed their longhouse, along with everyone else. The strangers had sneered at him and Aron, the ‘living’ vessels of their people’s twin gods, then invoked the name of their own unknown god as they shoved their bronze swords repeatedly into their flesh. Anders had a small knife he’d hidden beneath his robes, but he hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight against trained warriors.

(He’d repeatedly asked to be taught to fight, but Tilda had just laughed and ignored him, too busy soaking up the attention she garnished as the mother of a god’s vessels. Too busy drinking fermented berries and milk to care about how Knut, the elder, mistreated them.)

No, unlike Aron, Anders considered being unable to die (well, to remain dead) a curse instead of another sign of the twin gods’ favor, proof that the Fates took great pleasure in tormenting them. They didn’t age and they healed no matter how badly they were hurt, yet they weren’t immune to starvation, cold temperatures or other things which made life difficult.

They had no choice but to constantly move on, with no family to take them in and strangers suspicious of them if they remained in one place too long. Aron soon grew bitter when he realized that no woman would want him anymore once she continued to age and he didn’t, and it was much the same for Anders if he felt an attraction for another man.

It went on that way for almost eighty years, the two of them isolated from the rest of the world by some terrible curse, until they were driven from sleep one night by the image of a teenaged boy with long, dark auburn hair and pale blue eyes, beaten and bloodied, being held down by two men while an older man with similar pale eyes and red hair cut close to his scalp grinned as he slit the boy’s throat.

Only the boy didn’t remain dead, because the next image showed him alive (and covered in blood) as he stood by a pyre with a woman’s body on it, then as he scavenged through the ransacked sheep farm for anything useful he could find before he took off running. Anders stared at his twin as the images faded away, at the shock in hazel eyes the same color as his own, and knew they shared the same thought as well as appearance; it wasn’t just a dream, and they were no longer alone.

They set out to find the redhead, but the young man proved as elusive as a dream. Anders took to calling him the rabbit, because it felt as if they were chasing such a creature through a forest during the night, fumbling along like a bunch of clumsy fools while it vanished with ease into the thick foliage. The occasional dreams were of little help, because as soon as they figured out the redhead’s location in the dream, he always was gone by the time they finally got there.

Anders was going to cut his tendons a few dozen times when they finally caught up to the flighty bastard.

So six hundred years later, when they had another dream of a tall youth with black hair and green eyes being killed in battle, they wasted no time tracking him down to the island of the Celts. Caoimhín wasn’t a runner like the rabbit and refused to leave until he (along with Anders and Aron) almost ended up as a solstice sacrifice.

Funny how almost being set on fire while alive motivated one to see the world.

Anders began to regret the whole ‘let’s save a fellow immortal’ thing after a decade or two, when Caoimhín proved to be an annoying know-it-all. If the tall bastard wasn’t so good at fighting… he did come in handy whenever Anders managed to ‘upset’ the locals for interfering whenever the assholes were selling slaves (especially children) or mistreating servants – which was often. Aron yelled at him for having the subtlety of a raging bull, but the Persians got on his nerves, as did the Romans, and the Huns and the Franks, and… well, any bastards who thought because they had a bit of land and enough people with pointy weapons that they could boss everyone around.

(Caoimhín said he had a problem with authority. Aron said he was an asshole.)

And through it all, the rabbit. Kept. Running. And. Running.

They finally ran into another immortal who’d been ‘reborn’ a couple decades before when in Damascus, of all places, as Salah ad-Din fought Europe’s Crusaders, and learned that perhaps there was a reason why the rabbit kept his distance. Riko was a viper in human form, and after he did his best to dismember Caoimhín, Anders ‘killed’ him in front of some of Salah ad-Din’s men, leaving them to believe that the other immortal was a djinn when he ‘came back’ to life.

The three of them had no problem abandoning Riko in Damascus, wrapped in iron chains and sealed in a cave.

They kept wandering and fighting what seemed to be hopeless battles, especially with the rise of the Catholic Church. There were times when Anders (now Andrew) wanted to retreat from the world, to find an isolated, empty island and never leave it, but there was Aron (Aaron) and Caoimhín (Kevin), who weren’t quite ready to give up, and a damn rabbit with the clearest blue eyes he’d (sort of) seen who haunted his dreams and taunted him by always being just out of reach.

Then in the 1600s, the three of them dreamed of a new immortal born in the New World, one beaten and starved to death by monks. Unhappy about the thought of the long voyage, Andrew and his fellow ‘monsters’, as he’d come to think of three of them, headed across the Atlantic. It took them almost four years to find Nico, the son of a native woman and a conquistador, who’d been killed because of his attraction to men. The young immortal broke into tears to finally be with his ‘own’ kind, to be safe at last, and was a cheerful presence.

He was even more annoying than Kevin.

They spent a few years wandering the New World, but were drawn back to chasing the rabbit once again; he’d gone to ground in China, leading Andrew to hope that for once he’d stand out and be easy to find, but the damn bastard had developed an almost inhuman skill for learning the local language and blending in wherever he went. Kevin grumbled about him being a damn chameleon, while Aaron wondered if perhaps he’d truly died and they were hunting a ghost.

For some reason… that thought bothered Andrew.

Things carried on as they had before, only it seemed that every time Andrew turned around, the world had changed in some manner. A new country had formed, an old government had been overthrown, a new religion had been invented, yet another senseless war broke out, someone created an invention that upended things in a startling way…. He still remembered how for so long everyone had used bronze swords until someone had figured out how to smelt iron, how there’d only been longhouses and small farms until all of a sudden towns and then cities began to appear.

Change was inevitable, as was the fact that humans would twist some of those changes into something bad.

Still, he never thought that those changes would lead to things that would enable him and his monsters to travel the world in days (and then hours) instead of months or weeks, that wars would break out that spanned continents and could destroy entire cities in minutes. The four of them saved what they could, but soon it became impossible to keep up, not just because there were so many lives in danger and so much being destroyed, but because they could no longer fade into the shadows with ease with things like digital records and cameras in existence.

They learned as much as they could about modern technology; Nico (Nicky) and Aaron took to social media without any problems, while Andrew and Kevin picked up some hacking skills. They bought the best fake IDs possible and did everything they could to leave no trace online.

Yet they couldn’t stay in one place very long, not when they kept working, when they used the skills they’d honed over centuries to help people in need. Which was why they were traveling from France to England via the Chunnel; Andrew refused to give up his customized Maserati just yet, so they’d take the car with them on the train.

They didn’t expect any issue with their papers, especially since they’d used them a few days ago, so it was a surprise when a customs official in Calais frowned when he scanned Aaron’s while the machine beeped several times. Then the same thing happened with Nicky’s. Andrew tensed and tugged the cap on his head further down as he prepared to fight while Kevin did the same; their weapons were hidden in the special compartment in the Maserati, but they were good at improvising.

However, before they could react more than that, a familiar voice called out in French to the customs officials, one Andrew recognized with ease from his dreams over the last three millennia; the rabbit, dressed in a customs uniform, his dark auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail that trailed just past his shoulders, tapped the official who held Aaron’s documents and said he’d check it out, that there was an issue with the scanners. He purposely didn’t look at any of them as he did something to the scanner then ran the passport again, which beeped once in an ‘all clear’. Then he went to do the same for Nicky’s as the fool gaped at him.

As soon as Andrew was cleared, he stalked after his quarry, who to be fair didn’t try to run (for once). He grabbed the other immortal by the wrist and spun him around, part of him noticing that the rabbit was only a couple inches taller (which was a welcome change, considering how for the last few centuries, everyone towered over him). About to curse the bastard out for leading him on a merry chase for over three. Fucking. Millennia, he found himself stunned silent when the rabbit smiled.

(Maybe he should have considered what would happen when he finally caught the redhead.)

*******

Yes, Andrew, what does happen next???

I’ve never taken the Chunnel, so sorry if I messed something up there (I wrote what I did to fit the story). It’s a bit vague, but the twins are Scandinavian Bronze age, Neil is England Bronze Age (around Middle Bronze Age), Kevin is Ireland @ 600 BC, and Nicky is Mexico @ 1600′s. I debated having Andrew and Aaron separated, until I saw the twin gods thing. They were together, but per Tilda’s crappy parenting, they had a very rough childhood with Andrew protecting Aaron.

Mary raised Neil (Ram) to be cautious/wary of strangers. I’m thinking Nathan was a sea raider and... well, he came back years later and that time, he wiped out the farm. Neil heeded his mother’s lesson a little too well, but over time he finally came to learn that Andrew and the others weren’t all bad and finally stepped in to help them (and in a way, protected his own hide).

[kevindayscrown]

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 1 The lost bet

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. If you haven’t read the Introductory post, you are adviced to do so or you won’t understand shit. 

It started with a bet.

A lost bet.

Of course, the Foxes of the Exy team are used to placing bets amongst themselves over the smallest and silliest things. It’s when they include others that it gets complicated.

Ask any of them, and they will not be able to tell you how it started, probably to avoid the embarrassment. Ask the ice hockey players, and they will gladly fill you in.

It started in the athlete’s dining hall. The unhealthy featured option for the day was pie. Nicky, of course, had left class early just so he would be able to get a piece for himself and his cousin with the sweet tooth. Pie ran out early if you weren’t from the firsts to wait in line.

It just so happened that a group of hockey players were behind Nicky in line. Nicky, with the remarkable ability of not being able to shut up, started blubbering about how sweets were not allowed in the dorms after Kevin kept bitching about it.

One of the ice hockey players – Bryce Matthews, left defenseman – dared to make the following statement:

“Bet you that Day wouldn’t even dare eat today’s dessert. That guy has his racquet stuck up his ass. Doubt he would ruin that freaky diet of his.”

Of course, that was a challenge, a bet. Nicky wouldn’t dare not accept it. Especially from their ‘sworn enemies’.

“Oh, really? Bet you I can get Kevin to eat the entire thing.”

The two of them agreed to it after also discussing the terms for the winning and the losing side. Nicky knew he had to get Kevin to eat from the pie.

He didn’t.

“Kevin, I’m telling you, we will all regret it.”

Kevin gave him a blank stare and pushed the plate away, thinking that Nicky was messing around, trying to annoy him. He soon realized that wasn’t the case.

“Seems like we are going to have guests at the rink today,” a voice said from behind him. Kevin turned around, finding none other than Jiang Eric, standing there with his two lackeys at his side, grinning.

It was unusual for the Ice Hockey Captain to take pleasure in such stupid bets his own team usually engaged in.

But this involved Kevin.

And if there was anything Eric was more passionate about than Ice Hockey, it was annoying Kevin Day.

“What did you do this time?” Aaron snapped at Nicky.

“I may or may not have placed a bet.”

“See you there after practice!” Eric called and fist bumped his teammates as they exited the dining hall, their laughter echoing around the room.

Turns out, these were the terms that Nicky had agreed to:

The losing side’s team would have to come over to the winning side’s facilities and spend the entire evening after afternoon practice playing the other team’s sport.

Which meant that the Exy team now had to put on skates and spend two whole hours balancing on ice.

“Hemmick, I swear, I’m gonna murder you.” Kevin was furious. Of course, they couldn’t just not go, it was a matter of pride.

They were in the lounge when afternoon practice was over, discussing how they would manage to not make fools out of themselves. Allison was the only one who was having fun with this, seeing as she already knew how to skate.

Andrew was munching on that piece of pie from earlier.

(Neil may or may not have smuggled it for him after it was left untouched.)

“Look, I just think we should all be blaming Kevin for not trusting me,” Nicky said, holding his hands up in defense. The foxes let out exasperated sighs of frustration.

“Why are y’all sitting on your asses?” Heads turned as Wymack spoke. The coach wouldn’t admit it, but perhaps seeing his foxes on skates was the most amusing thought he had had in a while. “Get going. Or they will think you are all a bunch of cowards.”

The Foxhole Rink was as big as the university’s Exy court, though there had been talks of reconstructions, seeing as the team had been climbing up the ranks. The Ice Hockey team – all six players of the starting lineup – were waiting for the Exy players.

Eric’s grin from earlier was still plastered on his face as he held up a pair of skates and threw them at Kevin, who caught them just in time.

“Welcome to my domain, Day.”

The Exy Foxes were led to the locker rooms and were given spare equipment that would fit them best. It was rather similar to their own equipment so they easily slipped into it.

Then the ice hockey players came in with the skates. Spares of all sizes that the Foxes could choose from according to their size. They passed them down one by one and helped the exy players tie them properly.

“Need help Day?”

Kevin had managed to squeeze his one foot in but it was harder than expected to figure out all the laces and the straps. Admitting he needed help, however, would be just another blow to his confidence.

Eric kneeled down nonetheless and picked up Kevin’s foot. He secured the skates and then held the blades up, attaching them as well. Kevin grumbled something under his breath but Eric doubted it was a thanks.

They only exchanged a glance before Kevin tried getting onto his feet.

“Hey, this isn’t that bad,” Matt said. Indeed, balancing on the blades while on a stable floor wasn’t too bad. It was tricky at best, but the foxes knew tricky.

It was when they slid on the ice that they realized exactly how tricky it was.

The first one to fall on his face was Aaron. The Foxes rarely heard him curse so colorfully.

Dan was clinging onto the side of the rink with wobbly legs that threatened to give out at any moment. Matt was easing into it slowly. Allison gracefully skated past them with a small flick of her hair.

Kevin was also holding onto the ledge, deciding there was no chance he would let go.

That was, until he saw Eric glide in, looking surprisingly graceful for a six-foot five guy with all this heavy equipment on him.

Kevin slowly pushed himself off of the ledge and slid across the ice, holding his hands out for balance while also holding onto the hockey stick. He couldn’t understand how Eric could move around, block hockey packs and coordinate his team at the same time.

“It’s not as hard as it looks,” Eric said, which somehow annoyed Kevin more.

“At least it explains why you are all such thickheads,” Kevin snapped back.

Kevin noticed Eric’s eyes narrowing underneath the helmet. The goaltender moved to him in a way that made Kevin try to move backwards. His left foot slipped and he lost his balance.

A hand around his waist stopped him right before he hit the ice. He looked up and saw Eric, his hockey stick dropped as he had moved to catch Kevin from falling.

Eric wasn’t sure why he had done it. The first lesson to ice skating was that you would fall many times before you’d even be able move. It was mostly harmless.

He told himself he had just felt responsible for startling Kevin and immediately pulled him upright.

“Part your legs.”

“Excuse me?” Kevin asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Part your legs. Keep just the right amount of distance between your feet. Lean your body slightly forward and find your balance.” As Eric talked, he pressed one hand on Kevin’s stomach and the other on his back, adjusting his upper body properly.

Kevin was too stunned to push him away.

Thankfully, Andrew had not been in the first six to enter the rink or he would had probably tried to stab Eric with the blade of his skates for touching Kevin.

“Ready to try playing? I promise I’ll be gentle.” Eric said and winked as he picked up his stick. Kevin convinced himself it was a trick of the light as he moved forward.

[the-chicken-or-the-banana]

Hi! There's a headcannon that has been circulating that I never saw fully written, and I love how you characterize the foxes! Basically, Andrew living the setbacks of being short (either privately or publicly), getting frustrated, and Neil comforting him

THIS IS SO FUNNY SKDJFHK also i have always wanted to write a 5+1 so tyvm for this (again, this ended up so goddamn long but. what else is new.)

read "shortcomings (honestly, fuck you tilda)" on ao3 hereeeee

———

1.

Andrew gripped the edges of the counter. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Eye on the prize.

He squinted at the offensively orange mixing bowl that Kevin had placed far too high on the shelf earlier that day. He had planned on baking cookies (for no reason other than that he was bored), and that bowl was his lucky one: every baked good he made using it always rose perfectly.

Andrew had tried everything — stretching as far as he could, trying to move things with his mind, even going as far as going on his toes (after a cursory glance that no one was around).

He eyed the step-stool on the other side of the kitchen. He could always use that and put it back and no one would be the wiser. But no. Andrew was a fully capable adult with a reputation to uphold and he would get that bowl down by himself, dammit.

Andrew had been through hell and back, and then some. He would not be bested by cabinetry.

He rubbed his hands against his shirt before placing them back on the counter and took a running crouch. Andrew bounced lightly on his toes, mentally counted to three, and leapt up, hand reaching forward to grip at the bowl.

For one glorious moment, it really seemed like it would work.

Then the counter whacked Andrew in the gut, he smacked his head against the cabinet, and he slowly slid down to the floor, no bowl in hand.

Hmm. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He jerked his head up to glare at the stupid bowl and promptly felt extremely dizzy, slipping even further until he was collapsed entirely on the floor, limbs splayed.

That wasn't supposed to happen either.

Oh well. If he couldn't ruin his health with cookies, he might as well do it by laying on the most unhygienic piece of property he had ever seen. He supposed this was an acceptable way to go.

Andrew lay there on the dorm floor for a solid 15 minutes, willing the bowl to come down, until he heard the dorm room unlock and the sound of Neil's quiet humming filled the room. He didn't have the energy to get up though, so he flopped his legs around as Neil passed the kitchen to catch his attention.

"Oh, hey Drew," Neil shuffled further into the dorm after giving Andrew a quick glance and smile. A few seconds later, the humming stopped and Andrew saw the outline of Neil's body slowly move back into the kitchen doorway. "Um. Can I ask why you're starfished on the floor?"

Andrew sluggishly pointed upwards. "Bowl. High. Jumped. Fell."

Neil nodded knowingly. Andrew stared at him purposefully. Neil blinked.

Idiot.

"Get it for me," Andrew scowled with a well-aimed kick at Neil's ankles. Neil's eyes widened before filling with mirth. He walked forward and sat down next to Andrew's side, running a hand through his blond hair. Andrew hated himself for leaning into the touch.

"Aww, what's wrong?" Neil cooed. "Can't reach it?"

What a fucking asshole.

Andrew shot Neil a glare — he could admit that it probably wasn't super effective considering that he was on the floor with his not-boyfriend carding his fingers through his hair, but it was the thought that counted, okay! — and Neil gave him an amused look before pushing himself off the ground.

He shuffled around Andrew's limp body before giving an exasperated sigh.

"Andrew."

"Junkie."

"There is a stepstool right here."

"Yes."

"You didn't use it."

"No."

"... Why?"

Andrew shrugged in response.

He heard Neil grumbling under his breath and, a few seconds later, was rewarded with Neil's gross socks in front of his face as he went on the tips of his toes to grab at the bowl. Andrew glanced up and noticed that Neil's shorts were delightfully loose around his thighs.

Nice.

He indulged himself in the view until Neil dropped back down on the balls of his feet, holding the bowl proudly.

"Got it!" he grinned down at Andrew and flopped back down on the floor, pulling Andrew into a sitting position. Neil pressed up against him after a quick 'yes or no?' and handed over the bowl so Andrew.

"That was not fair," Andrew grumbled after a few minutes of calm silence. "You did that so easily. You're barely taller than me."

Neil nudged his shoulder and planted a kiss to the side of his head. "It's okay," he gave an annoyingly soft look. "I'll always be there to help you, whenever you need it."

Andrew huffed. "I did not ask for sentimentality, Josten. Just a bowl."

Irritatingly, this caused Neil to laugh a bit. "Okay, okay, I'll leave you with your precious bowl." He moved to get up and pressed a chaste kiss to Andrew's lips. "But for what it's worth, I think your size is perfect."

He left Andrew missing the warmth of Neil's body beside him before his brain caught up to what Neil just said.

"Josten. Josten! Was that a fucking dick joke?"

2.

There were moments where Andrew desperately wanted to burn Neil's clothing. He understood that they were remnants of past habits that were hard to break, but surely having this many gray and brown shirts had to be criminal.

Andrew refused to be seen kissing such a heathen in public but he really only knew how to put Neil in hot club clothes rather than hot casual clothes. And so, for the sake of humanity (and his dignity), he swallowed his pride and met up with Allison Fucking Reynolds.

Their plan to snatch up Neil from the Exy court to take him shopping at the mall appeared to be going well. So far, they'd bought him some shirts, artfully ripped jeans, denim jackets, and an actually functional pair of shoes. Neil, for all his stamina, looked like he was about to collapse from the weight of the bags, so Allison and Andrew took pity on him and decided to take a lunch break.

The three of them reached the food court and made their way to a noodle shop (after Andrew extracted a promise that he could get some ice cream afterwards). He and Allison sat Neil down on a bench to guard their massive pile of bags before going up to order.

By the time they were at the front of the line, Andrew was fully prepared to stab Reynolds in the middle of the mall. In a span of five minutes, she had managed to ask him about his and Neil's sex life, when they got together, what Neil's exact sexuality was, and had Andrew ever painted his nails?

He resolutely refused to answer any of those questions, on the principle that she didn't need more money from bets than she already had.

They ordered quickly, Andrew eager to get away from Reynolds, when the cashier said something that made him stop in his tracks.

"We actually have a discount right now for kids under 12!" she said smiling. "Is that something you'd be interested in?"

Andrew squinted. Why the hell would they—

Oh. Oh no, no, no.

Allison seemed to come to the same realization that he did, because she smiled wide and tapped her nails against the counter.

"Oh, that's just perfect!" she exclaimed. "Aaron here just turned 11 a few months ago. We'll take the discount."

Aaron?!

Andrew was going to kill her.

He was still planning bloody murder as Reynolds brought their tray of food to the table. He sat down with a scowl, and though Neil shot him a curious glance, he didn't push it.

Stupid considerate junkie.

Andrew muttered a percentage under his breath and proceeded to poke Neil in the cheek with his chopsticks. After a few moments of this, Neil turned to him with a scowl.

"Andrew," he grumbled. "What are you doing?"

Andrew glared at Reynolds.

Neil gave a resigned sigh and turned to her. "Allison. What happened?"

Reynolds smirked. "Oh, nothing much. Just that the cashier thought that your boy was a literal child and gave us a discount for kids 12 and under. I told her that it was great because Aaron over there," she jabbed a finger towards Andrew. "just turned 11."

Neil looked like he was biting back a laugh but then frowned. "Okay, but arms."

"True," Reynolds conceded. "However, consider this: tiny."

The two idiots nodded like they'd figured out some indispensable secret of the universe.

Frustrated, Andrew went back to poking Neil's face; when he finally glanced back, Andrew nudged his arms and shuffled a bit closer. Thankfully, Neil actually got the hint for once and scraped featherlight fingers into Andrew's hair.

"It's okay," Neil tried. "I mean, at the end of the day, all of us are just broke college kids—"

"I'm not," Allison interrupted.

Neil rolled his stupid, pretty eyes. "Okay, most of us are broke college kids—"

"Don't you have a bunch of mafia blood money and stuff?" Reynolds asked.

"Beside the point," Neil huffed. "Fine, Andrew, you are a broke college kid—" "Gee, thanks." "— and so you should be grateful that your height is saving you some money."

"That is dumb."

"You're dumb."

"How creative."

Neil scowled and tugged on Andrew's hair. "Shut up. Drama queen."

Andrew stabbed a piece of stir fry into Neil's mouth to close that damn mouth and resolutely ignored the click of Allison's phone camera.

3.

This was proving to be a problem.

Andrew stared at his $150 jeans, the bottom of the legs frayed and pale. He had just bought these two weeks ago. What a waste of money.

There really was only one thing left to do.

Minutes later, Andrew slammed open the door to his brother's dorm and dragged him out with Aaron demanding to know where they were going. By the time he had wrestled his idiot doppelganger to the car, Andrew was reaching. his. fucking. limit.

"Andrew, if you don't tell me where we're going, I swear I'll bite you. I'll push Neil off a treadmill and dump a bucket of mud on him. I'll throw all your ice cream in the trash. I'll—"

That last one was simply too far. He'd have to give Aaron some ground.

"Get in, loser," Andrew glared. "We're going shopping."

Thankfully, he managed to keep Aaron quiet until they reached the mall by letting him pick the music (it was country! Southern heathen). What a child.

Rich coming from you, a voice told him snidely. You can't even buy clothes for yourself properly.

Shut up, he scolded himself.

"Andrew," Aaron sighed exasperatedly when they reached the parking lot. "Can you finally tell me what we're shopping for?"

They got out of the car and Andrew raised an eyebrow as he faced Aaron. "Sex toys."

"WHAT THE FU— "

Andrew watched his brother's face turn red as he sputtered, before noticing the amusement in his face.

Aaron deflated. "Asshole," he grumped.

"Yeah, that is generally where the dildo goes."

"Shut up. I'm begging you."

Andrew decided to take pity on him and stabbed a finger towards Aaron's legs. "When did you buy those."

Aaron squinted. "My jeans?" At Andrew's nod, he looked confused. "Uh, like three or four months ago maybe. Why?"

Three or four months?! That was simply unacceptable.

"They are still in good quality," Andrew said slowly.

"...Yes?" Aaron looked lost for a few moments before his face brightened with pure, evil glee. Andrew hated the world more in that moment than he ever had before. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Are your jeans too long for you?"

"Be quiet," he snapped. "You just need to show me where you buy yours and never mention this to anyone or I'll stab you."

Aaron didn't seem as concerned as he should have been. "I don't need to do anything, dumbass. Why don't you just cuff them like me?"

"I refuse to look like a bisexual disaster."

"Hey," Aaron looked mildly offended. "That's not a bisexual thing. Right?" At Andrew's blank look, his eyes widened. "No. Oh shit. Is that why guys keep hitting on me at Eden's?"

Andrew actually blinked at that. He had not realized that his brother was really that stupid. "Aaron. Eden's is a gay bar. Obviously men will hit on you."

"Wait, it's a what— "

"Be quiet. You are coming with me now." He dragged his brother to the mall entrance as Aaron bumbled along behind him, swearing incoherently.

They weaved their way through what seemed like a million stores until Andrew walked out hours later, finally satisfied with his new haul of jeans that Aaron had oh-so-considerately helped to pick out, a few hundred dollars poorer, and two churros and an iced coffee fuller.

Andrew trudged up the stairs to his floor (perhaps this was a workout he should regularly implement in his exercise regime) while Aaron split off to find some study group or other.

By the time he reached his dorm, Andrew felt far more exhausted than the situation warranted and he blindly chucked the bags on the sofa, belatedly realizing that Neil was already sitting where the bags would land. Oops.

He sat down by Neil like the throw was entirely intentional as Neil sputtered when the plastic smacked him in the face.

"What's all this?" the junkie questioned. For fuck's sake, why did his eyes have to be so blue?

Andrew just gestured for him to take the clothes out and saw as Neil's face grew confused when he saw what he was holding.

"Jeans? Didn't you literally buy some like a week ago?"

"Two," Andrew corrected, because he was a petty bitch if nothing else. Neil rolled his stupid eyes at that but waited for Andrew to provide an explanation. Andrew heaved a regretful sigh. "The bottom of them are all frayed now"

"Frayed?" the striker's brows furrowed before his face cleared and a shit-eating smirk crossed his face. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you were too short for your jeans?"

Andrew nearly stabbed him right then and there.

"Shut. Up."

"Oh my gosh. Andrew. Andrew."

When Andrew got up (not grumpily. never grumpily. (okay, maybe a little grumpily)), Neil tugged on his shirt sleeve with an apologetic grin. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop making fun," but his eyes were squinted as he tried not to laugh and his face was flushed and his lips were red as he bit on them, and honestly, how was Andrew expected to stay annoyed after seeing that?

"I mean," Neil continued. "You're paying with whatever you have left of Tilda's life insurance, right? And it's technically her fault you're so, uh... vertically challenged because of the drugs and shit. So you buying all these jeans are like a big "fuck you" to her!"

Andrew blinked slowly at his not-boyfriend's not-cute not-endearing hand-waving and decided he could take a hit to his reputation if it kept Neil glowing like this. "Josten. Are you saying that being short is literally in my jeans?"

"Holy shit, yes."

4.

To be fair, he had been warned. This was probably his own fault. Which he would never admit, but whatever.

It had started fine enough.

Andrew had been smoking by the windowsill as he waited for Neil to come back from his class. It was raining heavily and he felt a comfortable laze settle in his bones, so he didn't bother to open the window, despite Kevin's complaints.

"Andrew, stop smoking in here. If you want to destroy your lungs, at least do it away from me."

"Shut up and watch your damn Exy, Day."

He shut up and watched his damn Exy.

Andrew let the sounds of the game wash over him as he let his eyes droop (when did Exy become... relaxing to him? That was moderately concerning), so by the time he realized that there was an incessant beeping sound in the background, everything was too far gone to not have gone to shit.

His body finally jolted into action when he finally registered that the smoke alarm was blaring in their dorm and he heard yells coming from outside in the hallway, which probably meant an RA or some other Foxes were about to burst in and see him smoking where he wasn't supposed to. For the third time this month.

Crap.

"Day. Day! Get off your fucking computer and turn off the alarm," he hissed as he (gracefully) scrambled to the kitchen to find a towel.

"Hmm?" Kevin hummed blearily. "Oh. That. Well, I told you so."

Andrew simply could not believe it. (Well, maybe he could a bit. Kevin was just that kind of asshole frie— person.)

By the time he dampened a towel (wow, they really needed to do the dishes sometime soon), the shouts were right outside the door and he heard keys jingling in the lock. Quickly he scrambled up the table, but in his haste, kicked over a glass of water (vodka? Sprite? whatever).

He tripped over slightly and his foot splashed into the puddle on the table, causing him to cringe internally. His sock felt horribly wet and tingly, and it was nearly enough to distract him from the creaking of the door opening. Quickly, he reached up, flapping the towel near the smoke alarm to turn it off.

It wasn't enough. He couldn't reach the alarm.

In a split-second, he decided to just fuck it and leapt up to see if that would work. However, the uncomfortable feeling in his feet and the stupid smoke alarm and the fucking banging of the door made him severely misjudge his strength.

Andrew jumped a lot further forward than he expected. He flew through the air, one foot catching on the top of a chair, the other stabbed by the edge of the table. In a futile attempt to gain his balance, Andrew flailed his arms around, but that just caused the towel to smack him in the face.

Eventually, gravity took hold of him and he (and the chair) crashed into the floor, the towel mockingly flopping on his hair. Blearily, he raised his head up and saw Neil and their RA staring at him concernedly from the doorway.

Well, this was awkward. At least the beeping had stopped.

Their RA, an unfortunately attractive tennis player named Richard Addams (Nicky found it hilarious that their RA's initials were R.A.. Andrew called him 'Certified Dick™'), stepped in cautiously. "Andrew, everything okay?"

"Just peachy," he grumbled.

Neil ran to Andrew's side at the sound of his voice and pushed his blond hair out of his face. "Why peaches? They're honestly not even that good; I can only stand the really big and thick and juicy ones."

Andrew froze and even Kevin closed his laptop that. "Neil," Certified Dick™ said slowly. "Do you know what peaches are?"

"Duh," he rolled his eyes. "Fruit. That's why Nicky has a peach next to my name in his contacts. Because I like fruits."

Idiot.

"It means 'ass,' " Andrew informed him. Neil gaped.

"It means wha— "

"Okay," Certified Dick™ exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm gonna leave y'all here. Andrew, I'll assume you weren't doing anything against the rules because you are a kind person who always listens to what I say."

"Of course," Andrew said blandly. "I am a wonderful student." He fingered the edges of his armbands.

Certified Dick™ slowly backed out of the room.

Neil let out a breath and blew his hair out of his eyes. "Okay," he started. "We'll talk about the ass thing later. But first, what the hell just happened?"

Andrew pointed up at the smoke alarm.

"Well, yes, I got that, but why were you jumping around like an absolute idiot?"

"Kevin is useless," Andrew announced.

"Not true!" Kevin protested immediately. "You just never listen to me. It's not my fault that I'm always right."

Andrew glared at him and turned back to Neil. "I couldn't reach the stupid smoke alarm," he finally gritted out, bracing for someone to mock him.

It never came.

Instead, Neil gave him a cheeky grin and a wink (at least, Andrew assumed it was a wink) and turned to Kevin with a faux-annoyed stare. "Seriously, Kev? You didn't help him?"

"He got himself into his own mess," Kevin shrugged.

"Okay, and what if someone had caught him? They might have not allowed him to play Exy for a bit! Or maybe while he was trying to shut off the alarm, he could have really hurt himself!" Neil was really laying it heavy on the dramatics, brandishing his arms wildly.

Kevin's eyes widened in horror at his words. "Shit."

"Yeah," Neil nodded graveley. "Us Exy players have got to look out for each other. How else will we live to our potentials?"

Kevin looked like he was going to be sick. Quickly, he whipped open his laptop and began muttering questions on how to secretly disable smoke alarms.

"Junkie," Andrew muttered to Neil. Neil just hummed and pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck.

"Yeah," he whispered a few moments later. "Only for you."

5.

Hmm. This was nice.

Andrew never could have imagined he would be the kind of guy to stumble over furniture while kissing his way through a room, and yet, here he was, crashing into tables and upturning chairs and tripping over bags.

He had Neil's fingers intertwined with his and was dragging him through the dorm, the kisses constantly pausing because Neil kept breaking off into small smiles and laughing into his neck. Every few steps, Andrew would take a look at his flushed junkie and absolutely forget about his plan to reach the bedroom, choosing instead to kiss him ferociously right there.

They were lucky that no one else was in the dorm.

When Andrew realized that it had taken them a solid seven minutes to walk about 15 feet past the door, he realized they would probably never reach an actual bed at the rate they were going. He told Neil as much and was rewarded with a shrug.

"I literally don't care where we end up," Neil said breathlessly before pulling him into another heated kiss. "I just wanna kiss you."

Andrew nearly snorted at that. How predictable. "I got that" he muttered. "But what do you want?"

Neil raised an eyebrow and deepened his voice mockingly. "I want nothing."

"You are actually so insufferable."

"Yeah, yeah," Neil waved him off and latched his mouth on Andrew's neck. Fuck. "Hmm," he said a few moments later. "Carry me?"

Andrew resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ever since the junkie had seen how much he lifted at the gym a few weeks ago, this had become one of his favorite requests (and really, who was Andrew to deny him?).

Nevertheless, he leaned down and grabbed both of Neil's thighs, pushing him up until his legs were secured around Andrew's waist and Andrew could comfortably hold him up, his body flush against Andrew's.

Yeah, he got why Neil liked this so much.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold Neil up for though, considering that they actually had a game tomorrow and he didn't want to put up with Kevin's annoying complaints if he didn't try at least a bit. Andrew glanced around for a second before his eyes caught on the perfect place.

He adjusted his grip on Neil, causing him to let out an oof in surprise and carefully made his way to the kitchen (with only a slight amount of kissing in the middle). Andrew messily deposited Neil on the island counter and was promptly faced with another problem.

Neil was up there. Andrew was down here. How the hell were they supposed to make out now?

Andrew frowned slightly and tugged at Neil's collar. "Lean down," he commanded.

Neil complied and pressed a searing kiss to his lips, tugging at Andrew's hair, but too soon he pulled back.

At Andrew's 'yes or no?' Neil smiled down sheepishly. "It's a yes, but this angle's going to end up destroying my back."

That made no sense — whenever Andrew sat on the counter, he never had to lean down that much. He reasoned that the weight of being an Exy junkie was finally catching up to Neil's spine, though.

"Well," Andrew huffed. "I'm not going up on my toes."

"Why would you need to go on your toes?" Neil looked genuinely confused as Andrew frustratedly gestured at the air between them. "Wait, wait. Can you not reach me if I'm sitting up here?"

Andrew's thoughts came to a halt.

He pulled back (well, as much as he could while still staying in Neil's arms) and squinted suspiciously at his not-boyfriend. "Can you normally reach me when I sit up?"

"Well, yeah," Neil blinked. "I mean, I have to stretch a little bit but it's usually fine."

What.

Unceremoniously, Andrew yanked Neil off the counter and sat himself up (he pretended not to notice the stare that Neil gave when he flexed his arms). He hooked his ankles around Neil and dragged him closer, coming nearly forehead-to-forehead.

Forehead-to-forehead. Neil could reach him.

Andrew let out an uncharacteristic groan and dropped his head on Neil's surprisingly comfy shoulder. Neil snorted quietly and patted his head.

"It's okay, Drew," he said, his voice muffled but teasing as he pressed a kiss to the top of Andrew's head. "Maybe next time we can get you a stool or something. That'll be real attractive."

Andrew scowled and kicked him in the leg.

Neil's voice softened as he lowered his arms to rub soft circles on his back. "But I'm serious Andrew, it's okay." He pressed a soft kiss to Andrew's collarbone, the underside of his jaw, the corner of his lips. "Does this feel good?"

Andrew swallowed. Hiding from Neil was a fight he knew he'd lose, and there was no point prolonging the inevitable. "Yes."

"Then that's all I need. Making you feel good makes me feel good," he whispered. "I really like this, what we do right now. And if you want, we can still find more positions that feel really good. Don't stress, we have time."

"Hmm," Andrew said a few moments later. "That is all fine and well, but actually, we now only have about 20 minutes until Kevin comes back from class, and I would highly appreciate it if you could get me off sometime soon."

"Asshole. We were totally having a moment."

"Next to a bowl of apples."

"Rude. I bet those apples appreciated the conversation."

Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil's idiocy, but kissed him hard to convey everything he felt: you care, you listen, you are okay with me, you are safe for me. Neil seemed to get the message, because his body softened under Andrew's grip as he kissed him back eagerly.

When they finally pulled apart, Andrew felt heavy and sated and secure in the way he only associated with Neil. He looked into Neil's blown-out pupils, the blue peeking brightly at the edges of his eyes as he slowly brought Neil's hand to the waistband of his jeans.

"Right," Andrew tried for a nonchalant tone. The slight voice-crack may have betrayed him, but whatever. "Take off my pants now?"

+1

South Carolina winters were shit.

Growing up in Oakland meant that he was pretty used to cold winters and hot summers, but usually things only got unbearably chilly at night, when he could pile tons of blankets on himself. Unfortunately, winters in the South brought biting wind and snow. All day long.

Andrew hated the cold (sure, he could walk around with a blanket draped over him like a cape in his dorm (he did. occasionally), but alas, he actually had a reputation to uphold)

And yet, when Nicky and Dan enthusiastically told Neil about their stupid plan and Neil had sent a stupid questioning gaze to Andrew's stupid face, he sure as fuck couldn't use "the cold" as an excuse to deny those eyes.

So he bundled up into a turtleneck, a sweater, a thin jacket and a snow one, a beanie, a pair of gloves, leggings and then sweatpants, and his warmest socks (Andrew decidedly ignored Neil's snickers, who was annoying dressed in just a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. how rude.)

The so-called Monsters trampled down to the parking lot outside the Tower, boots sinking deep into the snow. Andrew shivered at the sudden wind and if he walked a little closer to Neil's hot warm body — well, no one needed to know.

Within seconds of their arrival, Andrew was regretting coming out.

A massive snowball soared through the air and slammed into Aaron's face, who promptly fell on his ass from the force of it.

"What the fuck?" he sputtered, wiping snow out of his eyes.

"HA!" Reynolds hollered. "Take that!"

"Oh dear," Neil muttered. "I didn't expect this much violence from the start."

"We are Foxes," Andrew scoffed. "Violence is the whole point."

"Actually, there's this one piece of shit in my Stats class and he tried to tell me I was wrong — I wasn't, by the way — and instead of punching him, I just very mathematically proved how incompetent he was and I told him that his parents' miscalculation when it came to conceiving him evidently got passed on to him in the form of his nonexistent math skills. So. No violence."

Andrew wasn't sure if he should kiss Neil or smack him. "Right. Because verbal annihilation is a very tame response."

"Since when have you been such a peacemaker?"

"Renee."

"You two literally beat the shit out of each other every week."

Andrew shrugged. "Semantics."

"I really don't think— "

Their conversation was rudely interrupted by Matt throwing a snowball mere inches away from Andrew's face. At his glare, Matt promptly ran behind a car.

"Neil," Andrew sighed. "I hate you."

"I didn't force you to be here," Neil pointed out. "Could've said no. What did Nicky call you? 'Whipped.' So ha." With that profound statement, Neil ducked and dumped a handful of snow down the back of Andrew's shirt.

"Ha," Andrew said back smugly. "Layers." Neil looked betrayed.

"Layers. I forgot."

"I didn't."

"Asshole."

"Yup."

Neil scowled and kicked at Andrew's highly sturdy snow boots petulantly. Andrew refrained from rolling his eyes turned towards him. "Yes or no?"

"Oh," Neil perked up. Junkie. "Yes, yes."

Andrew jabbed him in the stomach and when Neil keeled over groaning, he pressed a kiss to his lips and shoved his head under Neil's chin.

"Personal heater," Andrew explained. Then he grabbed Neil's arms and tucked them around his waist. This was good.

"Right," Neil snorted. "Naturally. I can't wait until someone throws a snowball at your face and you get all cold and wet."

Andrew scowled. How rude.

"Oi, Minyard!" Dan called and Andrew sighed before wiggling around until he was facing her, back flush against Neil's front. "This is for drawing mustaches all over the pictures in the Court!"

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "You have no proof— "

His protests were cut off with the sight of a snowball hurtling full speed at him. He made to jump out of the way (maybe Exy was good for something after all), but Neil's arms around him proved to be a real hindrance.

As it was, he got jerked back into place, the snowball inches in front of him. Andrew shut his eyes, hoping he could use this as an excuse to drag Neil into the dorm to warm up, when he heard an "oof" from behind him.

Andrew twisted around to find Neil's face covered in an explosion of snow, water dripping down his shocked expression.

His eyelashes were nice. Hmm.

"Wh- What?" he shivered. "How is there snow on my face? Wasn't it supposed to land on you?"

Oh.

Andrew brushed off some snow that had settled on his cheekbones before stepping back a bit (still in Neil's arms. that was necessary). And Neil was right, it was odd, the snowball was supposed to hit him and instead, it had smashed itself on Neil.

"I believe," Andrew said slowly. "My height has proved to be advantageous."

"Advan— you mean you were so short the snowball literally missed you and hit me?!"

"Yup," Andrew felt extremely self-satisfied. "See, had you been shorter, this wouldn't have happened. Alas, there's just more of you to hit when you're tall."

"That— I— Andrew!"

"That's my name."

"Ugh. I am cold and wet and very much not liking this," Neil grumbled.

"Bet you wish you had as many jackets as me, huh?" Andrew crowed.

"You could always give one of them to me," Neil said as he yanked Andrew back against him.

"I could. Not feeling it, though."

"Bastard."

"Just a little," Andrew agreed. He tilted his head up to look at Neil and oh, that angle was good, his lips were right there, how did Andrew never notice that Neil's eyelashes framed his eyes so nicely?

Hmm. If this was the view, maybe his height had some... unforeseen perks that extended beyond snowball fighting.

"I win," Andrew told Neil seriously. At his confused expression, Andrew was forced to sigh out an explanation. "You are very pretty from down here."

"Oh?"

"Shut up."

"I think you're pretty too."

"198%."

"Kiss me?"

"Ugh, if you insist."

Andrew leaned up to press his lips to Neil, dutifully ignoring the cheers from behind him, as Neil placed a hand under his chin to tilt him up further, which felt very nice.

Yeah, Andrew was living the good life. He had a maybe-boyfriend who was the perfect height and a brother and cousin who might actually stay, and he was content and safe and— really fucking cold because there was a ball of snow sliding down his neck what the fuck what the fuck what the fu— .

"NICKY."

"Shit. Sorry!"

[winterxjxsmine]

This is my birthday present for @allforthestickball. I wish I was a writer so I could write you something better or I wish I could give you something you wanted but this is the only thing I can offer right now so I hope you like it, I love you, happy birthday!

Before you read this keep in mind that English isn't my native language so there are definitely mistakes in this. This is the first time I'm attempting to write Andreil and it was scary af I don't know how you all are doing it,, I really tried,,

Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mention of Nathan torturing Neil in the past

Neil always knew how to read behind Andrew's words but sometimes even he was getting a little confused. Or that one time Neil couldn't see behind Andrew’s words and let his insecurities torture him.

Today was a good day. Neil woke up beside his partner a couple of minutes before his alarm like every day. Dorm beds were very small and definitely not made for two people, but Andrew and Neil soon found out that sleep comes easier when they’re sleeping together, so it didn’t matter.

Today was a good day. “starring” Andrew had said with a hoarse voice from sleep when he woke up and saw Neil looking at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world like every day. It was a part of their routine by now. 

Today was a good day. Andrew and Neil after a small make-out session when Kevin finally left them alone got up, made and ate breakfast together, and like every other day, they got ready and left for early practice with the rest of the monsters. They held hands on the way to the court ignoring Nicky's exciting glaring from the back seat, they shared more private kisses in the locker room when everyone was already in the court who made Wymack later threaten them with marathons because they were late.

Today was a good day until it wasn't. Everything in practice ran smoothly. Kevin complained the whole time about the team’s performance, Nicky about how sleepy he is and why practice is so early, Matt made jokes to make Neil laugh, everything was good. When practice was over everyone went back to the locker rooms to get changed, Neil with Kevin stayed behind to talk about game strategies as always. When Kevin headed to the locker rooms too Neil saw Andrew and Renee not far away from him so he started heading towards them.

Neil didn’t mean to eardrop at Andrew’s and Renee’s conversation but what he heard made every word die in his mouth. “if you feel this way about him maybe you should tell him, he’s your boyfriend after all.” Renee spoke carefully as always. Both friends were oblivious to Neil’s presence. Andrew gave her one of his famous death glares. What Andrew wasn’t telling him? Neil frowned but tried not to jump to conclusions. “He’s not my boyfriend,” Andrew growled almost offended at the accusation. Renee sent him a knowing look and Andrew huffed. “I’ll get bored of him eventually.” they were his next words before he threw his unfinished cigarette in the concrete.

Neil's mouth suddenly went very dry and his stomach was knotted. Andrew's last two phrases echoed in his mind again and again. "Neil hi" Renee's voice brought him back to reality. He just looked at her for a few seconds not trusting his mouth to speak right now."Is everything okay?" He thought he heard her ask when she saw his pale face and his tense figure. That seemed to catch Andrew's attention who almost immediately turned around to look at him as well. "Uh yes yes, I just- I'm just gonna take a shower." He tried to keep his face blank and without waiting any longer he awkwardly turned and disappeared from their view.

"He's not my boyfriend, he's not my boyfriend, he's not my boyfriend." Neil couldn't stop thinking of Andrew's words. They started their 'this' two years ago. They never talked about what exactly they were but Neil was certain that after all of this Andrew had stopped denying that they had something. In his conversation with Renee, he didn't say that they weren't something, he just said that..they weren't boyfriends but if they're not boyfriends then what are they? It's something that they both have to spend their time on? No, for Neil Andrew was so much more than that. He was feeling emotions he never felt before and he was pretty sure he would never feel again for anyone else. For Neil, Andrew was his whole world. He believed from Andrew's actions that he felt the same for him but Andrew denying that there isn't something between them after all this time is ridiculous.

"I'll get bored of him eventually." He hadn't listened to Andrew saying this for so long and he's not even sure why it bothered him so much. The truth is that Neil sometimes feared that he wasn't enough for Andrew. Even though the other boy had his full attention to him that didn't mean that someday Andrew wouldn't get tired and bored of Neil. Who he was anyway? A broken soul beyond fixing with scars all over his body and face. The butcher's son doppelganger. Sometimes he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror, maybe Andrew would feel the same someday.

And what was that Andrew was hiding from him? What if he wanted to tell Neil he doesn't feel the same? What if he wanted to remind him that he's just spending his time with him and nothing more? A wave of fear almost paralyzes Neil. What..what if Andrew is already bored of Neil? What if he wants to break up with him already? But no, this doesn't make sense. Andrew wouldn't act this way if he wanted to leave him. His behavior simply didn't match this theory. Neil sighs forcing himself to relax. He's just being paranoid.

Neil let his insecurities drown him a little more and if he stayed in the shower longer than he used to well nobody had to know. With automatic movements, he started dressing without even noticing Andrew's presence in the room until he spoke. "Everything okay?" He asked looking straight to Neil's blue eyes trying to find in them the right answer. Neil tried to hide a flinch and put his shirt on faster. "Yeah, everything okay." He said pressing a small smile on his lips. He wasn't exactly lying after all. Everything was fine, nothing happened he just had to forget what he heard, this conversation wasn't for his ears anyway. Andrew always had a problem with words. His words never matched his actions so this was another reason to not take it seriously. He just had to puss every feeling in the back of his mind.

"Where are the others?" Neil asked while they were walking to the car and he couldn't see the rest of Andrew's lot. "They got bored waiting for you," Andrew answered with a bored tone and disappeared inside his car. Neil took a deep breath forcing himself to relax before he followed him. They were quiet on the way back as most of the times because they were always communicating better without words so Neil found the fact that he was so bothered by words ironic when Andrew showed him every day with actions. Andrew glanced at Neil curiously many times and at some point, he let his hand hover over Neil's thigh, a silent question. Neil nodded and put his hand over Andrew's offering a small smile at him.

When they arrived at the foxhole tower Neil almost opened the door to get out but Andrew's 'yes or no' stopped him. Neil looked at him and heard himself answer yes and without even realizing it he was already leaning closer until his lips met Andrew's. Without his permission, he felt his body tense and it seemed that Andrew felt it too because he got away from Neil immediately. "Talk," Andrew growled looking at Neil with his usual blank stare. "I don't know what you mean I have nothing to say," Neil answered, crossing his arms over his chest trying to avoid eye contact. Andrew huffed before he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. Neil sighed, again. Andrew was his usual self, everything was perfectly fine so why couldn't he just forget about it? He was getting mad at himself. "Andrew I'm just tired." Neil started following him but Andrew didn't stop until he was in the building waiting for the elevator. Neil always preferred the stairs but he didn't trust his trembling legs right now and he didn't want to leave Andrew.

The two boys entered the elevator standing as far away as they could from each other. Neil couldn't stop glaring at Andrew while they were waiting in tense silence. Suddenly the lights started to tremble, the elevator stopped and the lights went completely off. "What..what happened?" Neil murmured frozen in his place. A sudden light flooded the room and Neil soon found out that it was Andrew's phone. He watched him approach the entrance with a carefully placed blank face that betrays nothing about his feelings. "We're stuck, probably power outage," Andrew answered eventually pushing repeatedly the 'emergency’ button without success. Neil's heart began to rise in his chest but he tried to ignore it. Being trapped here makes him immediately think about some of the old darkest moments of his life. His mind traveled to times when his father locked him in his wardrobe or any other small space in the dark to punish him. This was so familiar it made his skin crawl. 

Soon enough the only thing he could see and hear was his younger self crying and begging for his father to show him mercy. At some point he realized he couldn't breathe, his hands felt numb and his legs were trembling even more than before. "Andrew." He almost choked, panic clear in his voice. Andrew was beside him with a hand in his neck pushing him to sit down in a second.

“Neil” Andrew called his name with a stern voice. “Andr- Andrew I can't-” Neil sobbed grabbing Andrew’s hand with his own trying desperately to ground himself. “You’re Neil Abram Josten, striker for the Palmetto state foxes.” Andrew began to say with a steady voice. “No- no- I can’t-'' Neil was feeling nauseous and dizzy, his throat was dry and his lungs were hurting because of the multiple desperate breaths he tried to take. “Repeat after me Neil'' Andrew demanded, grabbing harder at the back of his neck. “You’re Neil Abram Josten, striker for the Palmetto state foxes, you’re safe, your parents are dead, and I’m here.” Neil started to repeat his words with a trembling voice shutting his eyes while he tried to imagine moments of his foxes, and Andrew, and his life as Neil Josten. “Breath with me” Andrew whispered, grabbing with his other hand one of Neil’s and placing it in his chest to help him match his breathing.

A couple of minutes passed and Neil was finally back to himself, his breaths were steadier and his pounding heart was calmer. None of them dared to move. “I’m a mess” Neil murmured tiredly. Why would Andrew want to be with him?. Always a problem, always a responsibility. “What’s new” Andrew moved his hand from Neil’s neck to his hair. “What happened” his piercing look dared Neil to lie. “My father used to..lock me in small places and leave me in the dark for hours.” He explained avoiding Andrew’s eyes. “I’m sorry it’s stupid” he apologized a few seconds later. “Shut up or I’ll gut you” Andrew answered, flicking him in the forehead.

“Aren’t you bored from all of this yet?” Neil asked quietly, his hesitation clearly in his voice. “Aren’t you bored of me yet?” He added before Andrew could speak. Neil was sure that Andrew would reply with a sarcastic comment or something but Andrew seemed to understand how important this conversation was. “What is this?” he asked instead, forcing Neil to make eye contact with him. “Nothing, just..I’ll understand if you’re bored with this, or me” Neil answered, making Andrew frown.

“Don’t be stupid” he growled giving him a hard stare. “There’s no ‘this’ like you always said anyway'' Neil couldn’t stop himself at this point. No one said anything as Andrew gathered his thoughts. “Where did all this come from?” he avoided to answer and Neil felt disappointment in the pit of his stomach. “Am I lying?” Neil pressed and when Andrew didn’t answer he huffed shaking his head in disbelief. Neil moved away from Andrew’s touch. “I’m not your boyfriend and you’ll get bored of me eventually.” Neil continued and saw the moment that realization hit Andrew. “You eardrop my conversation with Renee.” He stated with a blank look. 

“I didn’t mean to” Neil answered quietly. “I thought you were smarter than this Neil.” Andrew sighed moving closer to him. “I just...I just thought..it doesn’t matter, you were clear to me two years ago about this.” Neil dared to look at him in the eyes and almost choked when his eyes met Andrew’s. Angry hazel eyes looking at him.

“Listen to me clearly because I’m gonna say this only once.” Neil nodded and Andrew leaned closer. “Stop making assumptions about things. Just fucking ask me. You listened to two phrases I said and you think you understood everything. There’s a ‘this’ and we’re not just boyfriends.” Andrew said, his hazel eyes burning Neil hoping that his idiot will understand the things he can’t say. Realization hit Neil and his eyes went wide. “Oh,” he said suddenly feeling very stupid. “Yeah oh.” Andrew mocked him. The thing is that Andrew Minyard never was good with words so he always used his actions to show his family that he cared. Neil has no idea why his insecurities blinded him. Andrew showed Neil every day that there was a ‘this’ with his way. He and Andrew aren’t just boyfriends. They’re so much more than that and now Neil finally gets it. “You like me,” Neil stated with a smile forming on his lips. “Idiot,” Andrew murmured. “Oh you, really, really like me.” he teased and Andrew rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill you,” he threatens with no heat behind his words.

“It’s okay because I, really, really like you too.” Neil’s smile got wider, Andrew huffed again but Neil could tell that he wasn’t so unaffected as he wanted to show. “And what's the thing you are hiding from me?” Neil asked suddenly and Andrew took his eyes away from him. “What I already told you.” He answered through his teeth and Neil couldn’t hide his smile. “Yes or no?” he asked him and after Andrew’s consent, together they leaned closer to each other and Neil let Andrew show him how much he cared about him with long heated kisses until the power came back and their foxes came looking for them.

[senstia]

~That one time when Andrew called Neil nothing and it hit a little too close to home~

(i wrote this like 6 months ago idek here u go (: don't worry theres fluff at the end hehe )

"But mom please I don't want to be nothing anym-" Nathaniel's cheeks burned before he even registered the slap, his neck cracking at the force of the hit.

"You are nothing. Survival is all that matters. We will run. We will keep running and never stop."

"You hear me? Don't fucking cry."

"You are nothing, you always will be."

"Get up Nathaniel. We've stayed here too long. Time to go. Time to run."

The forgotten memory streamed into Neil's conciousness. So deep and forgotten that at first he thought it wasn't real. But then Andrew was echoing those same words to Neil, shoving his face away, not even an ounce of remorse on his face. And yeah, normally Neil would ignore that, because deep down he knew Andrew didn't mean it. But for some reason today the words hit their target like a knife in his gut. For some reason he couldn't get his mind to catch up with the truth. His heart was aching with the old wound that had somehow decided to reappear, and Andrew had unknowingly caused it, unknowingly ripped that old wound clean open again until Neil felt like he was bleeding out onto the roof. He was surprised when he looked down to his chest to see it unharmed, when it felt like it was shredded.

"No," Neil almost growled, getting up and darting to the far end of the roof, as far away from Andrew as he could get. His body was shaking, he panicked as he struggled to get oxygen in his system. Panic attack. Hyperventilation. His mind supplied him with the useless information of what was happening to him. He didn't care. He needed to get out. He needed to run. He needed to get as far away from Andrew as he could. He needed the ringing in his ears to stop, all he could hear was nothing nothing nothing. Nathan's voice. His mother's voice. Lola's voice. Andrew's voice. Nothing. He was nothing. He needed to stop forgetting that. Before Andrew could cross the roof's distance to get to Neil, Neil was sprinting, already halfway down the staircase and out of the dorms in under a minute.

Before Neil could make it out of the parking lot he was slamming into Matt.

"Woah Neil what are you-" Matt paused as he saw Neil shaking, as he saw the tears threatening to slip down his face. Before Matt could say another word Neil was falling to the ground, his entire body shaking. his breathing fast and short.

Matt kneeled down, "Neil. Breath. Just breath okay? In and out."

Neil barely registered Matt's words, clinging to his shirt like a lifeline. Matt scooted closer to Neil, holding him close. Matt took one of Neil's hands gingerly and pressed it to his chest, right over his heart.

"Just focus on my heart okay?" After long minutes Neil's breathing finally slowed. His body was still shaking, his face wet with tears.

"Neil?" Matt asked tentatively.

"I-i'm nothing."

"What Neil? No you're not you're-"

"Nathan said I was. My mom said I was. Andrew says I am. He says that we are nothing. Our relationship is nothing. I can't- I can't..." Neil's breathing becomes sporadic again, sobs racking his body as Matt tries and fails to hold him together.

"You can stay with me yeah? Lets go up to the dorm..." Matt murmured.

Matt helped pull Neil to his feet and they both trudged up to Matt's dorm, staying quiet the whole way up.

~

Neil blinked his eyes open to an unfamiliar but familiar room. Oh. Matt. He was staying with Matt. The memories from the day before flooded his mind and his heart ached. The heaviness was too much. The nothingness he felt was too much. He didn't want to get up, didn't want to face Matt's undeserved kindness, his pity. Neil went back to sleep.

~

Neil awoke to darkness and murmured voices through the bedroom door.

"I don't know. He hasn't come out yet. I don't want to push him.." Neil heard Matt say.

"Where's Andrew?" Dan asked.

"He-he um... he went to Eden's. Kevin texted me, said Andrew went to Eden's by himself about an hour ago."

Neil felt ice in his veins. He didn't want to hear it. Couldn't stomach hearing anything about Andrew right now. Neil couldn't bare the feeling of being so unwanted, such a burden. And that's what it boiled down to wasn't it? He was a burden. Always had been. A burden to Nathan, a burden to his mother, a burden to the foxes. Even Andrew could barely stand to keep him around. Even Andrew thought he was nothing. Didn't even bother to look for him.

Deep down Neil knew he was being unreasonable. That his mind was telling him lies. But he couldn't get a hold of his thoughts. He was falling and there was no end in sight.

~

Hours later Neil somehow managed to pull himself out of bed, drag himself into the kitchen for food. It tasted like ash.

The logical part of his brain knew that Andrew didn't mean it. He spewed the same shit all the time. It was just that Neil's past had caught up to him this time. Grabed him by the ankle and pulled him down until he was bruised and bleeding. He tried to tell himself that he was overreacting, Andrew didn't mean it. But his stupid head wouldn't listen. His stupid heart wouldn't listen. He figured he just needed a few more hours. Maybe a few more days. Without Andrew. Then maybe he would manage to get his head back on straight.

"Hey Neil. How are you feeling?" Matt asked as he slid into the seat across Neil at the dining table. Shit. Neil glanced up, realizing he had been aimlessly staring at the table for minutes now.

"I'm fine."

Matt sighed, "Andrew came by this morning."

Neil's heart constricted. "Oh."

"I told him you were asleep, to come by later. I can tell him you need another day or two if you'd like?"

"I don't know..." Neil mumbled. He didn't know anything right now. Maybe seeing Andrew would help. Neil was more afraid that seeing Andrew would make it worse.

"I love him." Neil blurted out before Matt could reply.

Matt smiled softly, "Yeah, I know."

"He would never tell me that. I don't expect him to. Andrew is... different. And I love him. Drew. Exactly the way he is. I don't want to ever make him feel like he has to feel things he doesn't or say things he isn't comfortable saying. But I... My head. It won't stop. It's my stupid past and my stupid family and I can't make it stop. And sometimes Drew just says things and I know he doesn't mean them but sometimes he sounds just like them and its... its too much. It was too much. I- It triggered something. A memory. I don't know... I just panicked. I can't tell him that. Because then he'll feel pressured and worried and he really didn't do anything wrong. It's just my stupid brain and I can't. I can't-"

"It's okay Neil. It's okay. Hey? I know that you know Andrew in a different way than I do. But I do know that he cares about you. So much. I don't think he would feel pressured by this. I'm sure he cares about how his words make you feel and how they relate to your past. I know he cares. I understand your fear of pressuring him, but Neil, as someone who loves you, I promise that none of us would ever feel that way. I know your head is telling you all sorts of things right now and I know i'm shit at advice but I promise we all care, and love you. And whether you're ready to talk to Andrew about it or not, i'm here." Matt said grabbing Neil's hand and squeezing.

"Thank you," Neil said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should... I want-I want to talk to Drew. I-I don't have my phone..."

"I'll let him know," Matt said, giving Neil's had one last squeeze and taking their dishes into the kitchen.

~

Neil had been sitting in bed for a few hours now. Matt had helped sort out his head. Talking about it helped. Now he just needed to see Drew. And then the bedroom door was opening and Andrew was walking in, sitting next to Neil on the bed. Neil let out a breath. Relief. He hated having distance with Andrew. Even when he was the one who had caused it.

"Hey," Neil murmured. Andrew just looked at him, his golden eyes piercing.

Neil didn't know how to sort out his thoughts, "How was Eden's?" was all that came out.

Andrew huffed out a breath. Stared at Neil. Sighed. "Fine."

"Yeah," Neil laughed softly, rubbing his neck.

Andrew twisted to look at Neil more fully, "Neil."

Neil looked up at Andrew, got caught in his unflinching gaze. "Yeah?"

"This. Us. It's not like your past. Do you understand?" Andrew said seriously.

"I- Yes. I just... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. This is not your past. I am not here because I have to be, because you're something to be dealt with. I am not here to protect you anymore. I am here because I want to be here. With you. I chose you. I choose you every day. Got it?"

"Drew..." Neil said breathlessly. Somehow those words dissolved that memory. Dissolved the pain. Dissolved all the useless thoughts in his head. He knew that he would have trouble with his past, with how he was treated, for a long time. But Andrew was here and he understood and he chose him. It was more than Neil thought he deserved.

"Can I hug you?" Neil murmured. Andrew's eyes widened slightly in surprise but he nodded all the same.

Neil sighed as he was wrapped in Andrew's arms. The warmth and smell of Andrew seeping into him. "Thank you Drew," Neil whispered against Andrew's chest. Andrew just squeezed Neil tighter.

After a few minutes Andrew pulled back, took Neil's chin in his hand, "Yes or no?"

Neil smiled and nodded, leaning in to brush his lips against Andrew's. They kissed slowly for a while. Putting all the words they wouldn't say into that kiss. Putting all of their love for eachother into that kiss. Andrew pulled back to look at Neil after a while, stroked his cheek, Traced the shape of Neil's face with a fingertip.

"Everything..." Andrew whispered as he looked at Neil, as he traced the shape of him with his hands.

And yeah. Neil would be replaying that whispered confession in his head for a while.

[willowbird]

For the prompt thing, could you do 2 for au, 4 for trope and 5 for prompt with andreil?

Hogwarts au, meet messy, "you have the emotional capacity of a brick"

Dearest anon, how did you know that I have been literally aching for an excuse to do something with a hogwarts au?

For context, because idk if I'll be able to explain it in the ficlet, Andrew and Aaron have been raised by their real father, Joseph Minyard, and his wife, Betsy Dobson, since the twins were seven. Andrew instinctively retaliated against an abuser with magic when he was in foster care, bringing him to the attention of whatever the US's ministry of magic is called (I forgot). They found his dad, who is a British wizard, and also discovered Aaron's existence. The twins, upon meeting each other and finding out they were wizards, chose to stay together and go with their dad rather than risk potentially being separated in whatever system the US magic people has for orphaned magic kids.

(look, I've been thinking about this A LOT okay?)

The following scene would take place the summer before the twins' fifth year. They are fifteen, Kevin is sixteen, Neil is fourteen.

Please be aware that all these characters are a lot younger and significantly less traumatized. I mean, shit still happened to them, but they all get rescued from their abusive home lives a lot earlier than in canon.

---

Andrew Minyard had lost a bet.

It was a really shitty bet, and Andrew should have known at the time that he was being fucking set up. But, well - what was it that broody fucker always said? Oh. C'est la vie. Or something. Whatever.

Point being, Andrew made a stupid bet and then he lost and it was really his own damn fault. Now he was stuck going to stupid Kevin Day's stupid house to play stupid broom-ball over summer break when he could have been basking in the wonders of muggle efficiency like television and air conditioning. What made it worse was that his mom had been so damn delighted that he was going over to a friend's house, too, and Andrew didn't usually have it in him to smash her hopes and dreams when she was so genuinely happy for him.

So. Here he was, broom in hand (because if he had to do this he was at least going to suffer with the familiarity of his own fucking broom), staring up at obviously haunted creaky old manor house that Day apparently lived in.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "Just.. great." Andrew did not like ghosts, did not like them one fucking bit. They always wanted to chat you up and had absolutely no respect for personal space.

The longer he delayed, though, the longer Day was probably going to force him to participate in his bullshit "training camp", so Andrew straightened his shoulders and trudged up the cracked stone staircase that lead up the hill to the front door of the house. The very second Andrew had both feet on the dilapidated front porch, one hand reaching for the knocker, the front door began to swing slowly open. You know, as they were wont to do in creepy old ghost-infested houses owned by wizards.

Without waiting for a welcome (because the door fucking opened for him, that was invitation enough), Andrew strolled inside. He didn't even flinch when the door slammed shut behind him.

(Okay, maybe he jumped a little bit. Just a little.)

No one was waiting for him in the foyer, because of course that would be too easy. At least the inside of the house didn't look as abandoned as the outside did. On the contrary, the foyer was well-lit and free dust and cobwebs. It opened up into a round sitting room that looked lived-in rather than haunted, personal affects strewn about here and there in vaguely organized chaos and family pictures on the mantle above the fireplace.

This, Andrew had learned quickly upon his introduction to the magical world about seven or so years ago now, was fairly common when it came to magical families living in and around muggle neighborhoods. Sure, there were wholly wizarding villages, but not a ton of them. Most of the magical community had to coexist or at least peripherally exist with the muggle one. With the work of a couple of charms and a heavy dose of aesthetic, a magical family could live comfortably without the muggles looking too closely - and even if they did look closely, it was the haunted old house at the end of the street so strange things were bound to happen around it, right?

Homey as it may be on the inside, it was still actually haunted, though. Andrew had a good sense about ghostly lairs and this was definitely one of them.

Heaving a sigh, Andrew moved through the sitting room and ventured deeper into the house. The sooner he found Kevin, the sooner he could leave.

The rest of the house, Andrew swiftly found, was an uncanny combination of the haunted image it presented to outsiders and the cozy haven of the front sitting room. The hall leading off the sitting room was normal when you looked down it heading away from the sitting room, but when Andrew looked back over his shoulder it was like looking into something out of a cheap horror film (of which Andrew had viewed many, much to his father and brother's chagrin, but his mother liked to critique them with him).

Andrew checked each door he came across. Some of them were locked. Some opened into perfectly normal coat closets and bathrooms. At least one of them opened onto an actual cemetery where a bunch of ghosts were playing croquet. Andrew quickly shut that door before any of them tried to talk to him.

It was when he came to the staircase, however, that he finally started to get somewhere. Voices could be heard when he hit the first landing, but they completely vanished when tried to move beyond it - either further up the stairs or out into the hall. Turning to inspect the walls, Andrew realized that one of them wasn't actually a wall at all, but an illusion -- his hand right through!

"This is getting ridiculous," Andrew grumbled to himself as he stepped through the goddamn fucking wall.

He found himself in a wide, clean hallway bathed in the bright sunlight that was streaming in from the skylights placed every few feet. From one of the open doors a bit down the hall, Andrew could finally make out the words of what was obviously an argument.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to your bloody school, Day?!"

"You can't just not go to school, Neil! The Ministry will have your wand, and then where will you be?"

"Oh come off it, do you really still buy into all that regulatory shit? They can't track me if I'm not a student unless they have an open warrant out on me. I could turn the corner store into a giant anthropomorphic pig that pisses coffee and they wouldn't know it happened until the story hit the local news, and even then they'd have a hard time tracking me down, considering those lazy twats barely even know how to read let alone track a rogue wizard."

"Galloping Gargoyles, Neil. Where in Merlin's name do you come up with this shit."

"It's called an imagination, Day. I was able to foster one while not being indoctrinated into the sheep-brain miasma that is Ministry-approved wizarding society."

This 'Neil' was getting more worked up as he spoke, spitting out his words like he was crafting a very pointed hex. There was the scuff of footsteps and a shadow fell across the hall as someone stepped toward the hall. "I'll be leaving now, thanks. Have fun being institutionally programed to fit the conservative mediocrity."

A larger shadow blotted out most of Neil's. "You can't just go, Neil!"

There was a scuffle, then a short kid wearing oversized robes stumbled into the hall. "Try and bloody catch me then, you lumbering infant of a Bandersnatch!" And then the kid turned and bolted down the hall -- right toward where Andrew had paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Now, Andrew was all ready to step aside. This was none of his business, after all. If this mouthy kid wanted to run away and join the circus or something, more power to him. He, also, thought school was a nightmare. But then Kevin stumbled out into the hall and shouted, "Andrew! Block him!"

And, well. Look. This was all fucking Kevin's fault. Kevin and his stupid cross-House quidditch club and his obsession with running drills. It was also Nicky's fault, for forcing them all to go so they could bond or what the fuck ever the purpose was. But Kevin shouted 'block!' and Andrew had spent two years as a beater and one year as a keeper and, well, reflexes kicked in.

He blocked.

Except, he had spent two years as a beater, and he was holding a broom. So.

His arms moved on their own, and it was a mighty, vicious swing. The next second the kid was flat on his back, gasping to try and catch his breath. Kevin loped over on legs too long, shooting Andrew an appreciative grin that Andrew kind of wanted to punch off of him.

"What.. the.. actual... fuck..." the kid - Neil - wheezed from the floor.

Now that he was officially drawn into this mess, Andrew allowed himself to indulge his curiosity and slung his broom up against one shoulder to approach the fallen boy. He felt a little bad (okay, more than a little), so he figured he'd offer him a hand up at least. Except, when he got to the kid and looked down he was shocked to find just about the prettiest boy in the whole Nimue-cursed universe.

(Andrew's gay awakening had happened when he was twelve years old. The keeper of the Gryffindor quidditch team smiled at him and told him he'd make a pretty good beater. Andrew had tried out for his own House team the very next week, and it had all been downhill from there.)

Andrew cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something cool and unbothered, because that's what you did when you met someone pretty and wanted to impress them. Instead, like the utter dork that he was, he said, "Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

"What the fuck is a Weasley?" the sharp, pretty boy on the floor shot back through gritted teeth, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Kevin's obnoxious shadow fell across the both of him and he sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Don't mind Andrew, he remembers everything he hears and has a tendency to regurgitate random lines from other things when he feels awkward or anxious."

"Don't mind Kevin," Andrew followed up conversationally, "he's an insufferable know-it-all with a tendency to overshare and force people to play stupid broom-ball when they should be having a perfectly air-conditioned summer break."

"You emotionally wound me."

"You have the emotional capacity of a brick, don't try me Day."

Kevin rolled his eyes. Neil honed in on Andrew with eerie intensity. "You have an air-conditioner?"

Aha! Mission accomplished: cute boy impressed.

Andrew smirked. "Yup." He popped the 'p', feeling quite good about himself, his earlier bumble placed in the back of his head where he could obsess about it later.

Neil's narrowed eyes scanned him up and down, then relaxed, the blue of them bright and intelligent. He looked like he was figuring something out about Andrew but Andrew had no idea what or why. It took some effort, but instead of squirming he met Neil's gaze full-on. After a long moment, Neil seemed to have made a decision. He pushed himself up to his feet and nodded. "Alright then. You play quidditch?" He gestured to Andrew's broom with the jerk of his chin.

He hadn't noticed it earlier because he'd been so fascinated with the argument itself, but now that he could focus on Neil's voice, Andrew realized that there was something of about his accent. It wasn't that it seemed fake but more that it... it reminded him of his own, back when he'd been younger and had only been in England for a couple of years. He remembered being teased for it, and getting into a lot of fights because of that. Well, he remembered getting into fights because Aaron was also teased, and no one picked on his brother but him.

"I thought you were going to run off and join the circus." Andrew arched a brow.

Neil wrinkled his nose. "No. I'm still not going to your stupid castle school." He paused and looked from Andrew to the broom back over to Kevin and sighed. "But... one or two games of quidditch before I go can't hurt."

Kevin looked overjoyed. He grinned at Andrew and Andrew supposed that they really must be friends now, because he felt quite pleased about that.

"Great!" said Kevin. "Let's go! We should be able to get in some warm-up rounds before the others get here!"

"Others?" Andrew and Neil said with identical inflections of disdain. The sound of an echo startled the both of them and the looked at each other. Then, Neil smiled.

Andrew supposed a day without AC playing stupid broom-ball wasn't so bad after all.

Fun little prompt things

[abraxos-is-toothless]

healing and feeling

My @aftgexchange gift for @bayta-darell !!! I’m so sorry that this is late, I went to post at the beginning of the posting week but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I’ve spent the week doing a rewrite. There was more of it (Kevin and Neil having a discussion) but I just wanted you to get something rather than nothing. I really hope you like it. A general foxes type fic where they do some healing.  Canon warnings apply- mentioned not detailed.

---------

Twenty minutes. Twenty whole minutes it took of the foxes remaining silent for Betsy Dobson to realise she’d have to make the first move if she wanted to make any progress at all here today.

“David first suggested this for you all once before and you refused, which I respected. I will not force anyone to talk until they are ready. But you’re all here today and I feel I should ask the nine of you, why now?”

Aaron watched as everyone not-so-subtly shifted their eyes to look at Josten who opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it again. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them from where he sat on the floor by Andrew’s chair. There was a space next to Boyd on the plush yellow couch but well...

“This is the second time this week Neil has almost stabbed one of us.” Ah, Reynolds. Always making sure she got straight to the point. Matt glared at her, muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“I said it was fine, I startled him-”

“It damn well isn’t fine, Matt! Were you not a boxer with some good reflexes, he could have done some serious damage.”

Aaron watched them argue back and forth until Betsy politely cleared her throat, her calm, soothing smile never once leaving her face.  He admired the woman, he truly did; he couldn’t imagine dealing with people’s shit all day and managing to still look sane and collected. His own mind was enough of an asshole as it was. “I’m glad that we’ve gotten to why you’re all here, but I’d like for us to remain civil in these sessions. Talking about such things can be straining and I want you to remember you’re a team, that you’re friends.” Matt nodded and threw Neil a small smile and Allison simply flicked her hand, bright red nails catching in the sunlight streaming through the window. Aaron caught Neil bringing a hand up to rub at the scarring on his face but then Andrew’s hand came down to hold the back of his neck, thumb rubbing back and forth carefully and the tension Neil was holding in his shoulders eased up. His twin met his stare without faltering and simply raised a pale brow at him, as if daring him to comment. Aaron kept his mouth shut and turned back to Betsy. “Now Neil, would you be able to tell us what might have brought on these outbursts of violence?”

“I’ve always been this way, thanks to my mother.” Aaron saw Andrew’s jaw clench at the mention of Mary Wesninski; he knew well enough how his brother felt about abusive mothers. “But this is different. We lost our most recent game. We’re falling behind a little and if we don’t win the next game, we don’t get to progress any further.” Aaron couldn’t stop his mouth from moving, even if he had tried to.

“You’re telling me that Boyd almost got stabbed because we lost a game? Are you serious right now? It’s not the end of the fucking world!”

“It is for me!” He stopped and said nothing more, turning his face away from them all, ignoring their looks of confusion. He knew Josten loved Exy as much as Kevin, but he didn’t think such a thing was enough to stab someone over. Kevin sighed, eyes closing before he put his head in his hands. Neil’s jaw clenched and he stood abruptly, walking towards the door, Andrew following just a few seconds after. Betsy, bless her heart, she tried to reason with two of the most stubborn beings on the planet.

“Neil, maybe you’re not quite ready to talk, but we’ve only just-”

“I apologise, Dr. Dobson, but I can’t talk with you in the room. Anything regarding that part of my life cannot be discussed outside of the people who already know. I do not wish to implicate you.” The woman wrote a few things down; the scratch of the pen was loud to Aaron’s ears.

“Very well, then. Let David know when you’re all ready to come back, and we’ll schedule something between classes and practice.” Neil and Andrew disappeared out of the door and Aaron and the rest were quick to follow, but not before Renee, ever the peacekeeper, gave the woman a gentle smile and told her they’d see her next week. As if she alone could wrangle them all into another session. He made his way over to the mas with Nicky and Kevin, where Neil and Andrew waited, sharing a cigarette between them, and the upperclassmen left ahead of them in Matt’s truck. No one spoke until they were all in the car and on the move, and of course, it was Kevin.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Nicky leaned across the seats and over Aaron to bat at Kevin with one hand, all the while texting Erik on his phone in the other.

“Shut up. You don’t think that anything is ever a good idea unless it’s one of your ideas.”

“Neil I really don’t-”

“Enough, Kevin. I’m telling them and that’s final. I should have told them all anyway.” Kevin sat back with a huff and Aaron rolled his eyes at the idiot’s dramatics, staring out the window for the rest of the unusually quiet drive back to fox tower, except for the clicking of Nicky’s phone and the quiet giggles he would let out at whatever he and his fiancé were talking about. When they got there, Andrew found the closest parking spot to the building that he could, because his brother preferred not to do any more exercise than being an Exy player forced him to. The others hadn’t waited for them, not that Aaron thought they would have, but he thought at least Allison would have been standing at the doors so Neil couldn’t slip away and get out of telling them anything. 

They hadn’t, however, stopped themselves from taking over Aaron’s old dorm room he shared with the rest of the ‘monsters’ before he moved to Matt’s. Dan and Matt were sitting together on the couch, the former tucked into the latter’s side, Allison was lounging in a beanbag while she inspected her nails and Renee was sitting on the floor in front of the small and worn table, sorting Nicky’s nail polishes into some sort of order. “Now that you’re here,” Allison said without even bothering to glance in their direction, “let’s get to this secret you’ve been keeping from us, shall we?” Aaron watched Andrew move over to the window to sit on the sill, lighting up another cigarette. He knew there was no need to worry about the smoke alarm because Andrew had taken it out from the first day they moved into the room. It was clear he wasn’t bothered by any of this, at least Aaron didn’t think he was, which means either he knew what Neil was going to tell them all, or he had guessed early on and hadn’t pushed for a definite answer just yet. 

Kevin sat down in the other bean bag, although with how tall he was, he seemed to dwarf the bag. The sight was odd, considering that caused him to slouch more than a chair or the couch would have, something he would moan at the rest of them for when they did it. Nicky sat himself next to Renee, gushing over how she’d organised all of his colours, nodding so enthusiastically that his messy brown curls bobbed with the movement. Aaron went to lean against the wall closest to Andrew, who didn’t acknowledge him other than glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. They were better than they were before, Aaron actually managed to have whole conversations with his brother now and he was no longer hostile towards Katelyn, letting her come along sometimes when they went to Sweeties and Eden’s. He knew it would take time to have some sort of a stable relationship with Andrew but they were trying, and that was okay for now. 

Neil stood in front of them all, hands in the PSU foxes hoodie he wore, barely any emotion on his face, as he always was. No wonder he and Andrew worked so well together, Aaron thought, internally rolling his eyes. He got straight to it. “After Nathan was killed, all his debts with the Moriyamas fell onto me. The money my mother took when she decided that we should run belonged to them. In Ichirou’s eyes, they still own Kevin and Jean too.”

“What does this have to do with you turning into a murderous little rage machine?” Matt rolled his eyes at Allison. 

“I made a deal with Ichirou.” Dan dropped her head into her hands while Nicky made a choked off sound. Aaron was tired of Josten making dumb decisions and not telling them. This is what happened when the fucking idiot ended up at Baltimore. “I wanted something and to get him to give in to that, I said he could have the majority of our earnings when we went pro.”

“Wait.” Neil turned his head towards Kevin, who was outwardly confused now. “You said he wanted a take of what we earned, that I knew. But you didn’t say it was in exchange for something, what did he give you?”

“I wanted Riko dealt with and he was.” Aaron’s eyes widened at that, as did the others in the room. Kevin went deathly pale and he stood slowly, looking at Neil as if he didn’t even know him. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he gave up and disappeared to his room without a word. Aaron had a feeling there was a bottle of vodka waiting for him to drown his sorrows in. Allison looked mildly impressed. 

“We all knew the suicide story was suspicious, but I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I wanted him to pay for what he did. I walked out of that room and I laughed. But that’s why the nightmares have kicked in and I’ve picked up old habits, like sleeping with a weapon under my pillow. If Ichirou notices any slack, he will kill me.” Aaron looked to Andrew again, and his brother was staring back at Neil, as if waiting for him to fall apart. Dan stood, determination on her face and a fire in her eyes. 

“Then we help you stay on top of the game. We’ll fit in an extra practice a week and on the free period you share with Matt, he can discuss drills with you.” Aaron saw Matt smile and nod, receiving a dip of Neil’s head in return. “We’ll tell Coach that we’ll have an evening a week at the court, watching old games and seeing what we can take from them. No one gets to ruin this for you, they don’t get to take anything else.”

Nicky whooped and got up to hug Neil quickly, after he got the consent for one. Aaron wasn’t too happy about all this extra work for a sport he wasn’t even that bothered by, but he supposed he owed Neil this. After all, he was the one, no matter how stupidly he went about it, that finally managed their rag tag group work as a team and to become friends. He brought them together, and so Aaron would do this

So that they could stay together. 

~~~~~

They did get better over the weeks, and they won their next game, letting them progress further into this season. 

The session with Betsy continued, though progress on that front was slow going to begin with. Neil’s confession had broken the ice, and each of them would discuss assignments they were struggling with or the odd everyday problems life gave you. Betsy never pushed them, allowing them to get used to talking first before she tried diving for issues hidden deeper down. 

After a few weeks, Allison discussed her parents when she had gotten a phone call from her mother out of the blue. Apparently, they had started to notice how the foxes were on the up and up, and how much more media attention they were getting. Allison’s mother wanted to use her daughter for her own gain, to get their businesses promoted through the foxes and for Allison to start building their incomes through Exy. Aaron didn’t understand a lot of it, other than that his teammate’s parents were some of the most self centred assholes on the planet. After all this time, they hadn’t gotten in contact with Allison to see how she was or to ask about working on their own family issues, but just to see how they could make life better for them. The blonde had said in the one session that she finally told them where they could stick it, and if they wanted to cut her off from the money they could. If they didn’t want to love her as parents should, then she wanted nothing to do with them. 

When Allison ended her rant with the words ‘fuck them’, the foxes repeated them- even Andrew, to everyone’s surprise -loud and clear. Betsy tried to be reprimanding, but Aaron could see she was proud and trying valiantly to not smile with them. 

~~~~~

Some months or so after that, Aaron was attending one of his sessions where it was just him and Andrew. It was coming up to a year now since they’d first started these double sessions with Betsy, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he liked coming to them. Yes, sometimes it was bad and they’d end then arguing heatedly, or sometimes, it would leave them exhausted but content that they were managing to get on to the same page with each other. And other times, well, those times managed to bring their walls crashing down. 

Today was one of those times. 

“Aaron, you don't look as if you’re well. Is everything alright? If you’re unable to sit through this one, you may go back and rest if you like.” He knew he must look like shit, after the night he’d had with his mind torturing him, but he felt as if this is why he’d been so plagued by nightmares the last few nights. Like Andrew had to know about them. 

“Nightmares.” His throat felt raw and scratchy, but he supposed that was normal when you wake yourself up by screaming yourself hoarse. 

“Are you able to tell us what they were or about?” He nodded, turning on the couch so he was angled to the left, making it easier for him to look directly at Andrew. His brother seemed unfazed as he usually did, but Aaron thought there was something different about him today, though he didn’t quite know exactly what was different. Maybe he felt like today was going to be better for them, too. 

“I thought I was already awake, because I was walking around the house in Columbia. It was too quiet, and the house was dark, and it was almost as if I could feel the shadows closing in around my shoulders.” He breathing became ragged and clenched a fist where his hand rested on his thigh. “I thought I heard glass smash and the sound of a thud, like something had hit the hardwood floor. It was muffled, coming from upstairs so I followed the sounds.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard; it was like he was back in the nightmare and he couldn’t get out. 

“Aaron? Aaron, you can stop if you want to.” He shook his head, feeling part of his hair fall onto his forehead. 

“The noise was louder up there, coming from your room.” He opened his eyes again, catching his brother’s gaze, hazel eyes that matched his own. And they knew, they knew where Aaron’s nightmare was leading them, yet he didn’t flinch away. “I opened the door and it was back to that day, and Drake…” Andrew did not outwardly show any reaction to the name of his abuser, though Aaron saw his fingers stray to the edge of his armband. As if it soothed him to know he had a way to keep himself safe. “When I tried to get in there, it was like there was an invisible barrier in front of me. No matter how hard I kept hitting it, it never went away. I kept screaming at you, to look at me, so you’d know I was right there but there was nothing.” His cheeks felt wet and brought a hand up to find that those were tears running down his cheeks. 

Andrew’s eyes had widened, and the hand that was holding his armband started to drift towards Aaron, but stopped just shy of making contact. He took a few deep breaths before he felt like he could go on. “I closed my eyes after a while but I didn’t stop trying to get to you. Then all of a sudden I could hear laughing, and when I opened my eyes, I was back in that shitty apartment, before you came and Tilda had locked me in the closet. She had her Junkie friends over doing all sorts of shit, music on as high as possible.” He felt like he could breathe, as though someone kept on piling invisible weights on his chest, one after the other. “I had one toy, a couple of granola bars and a bottle of Gatorade, of all things. No matter how loud I shouted for her, she never came to let me out. I woke up screaming after that, scared Katelyn half to death.”  He’d kept his gaze on the floor when talking about his mother, knowing she was a touchy subject between them. 

There was a quick tap to his knee and, a bit reluctantly, he lifted his head to look at Andrew again. His brother was breathing a little heavier, and Aaron could see the way his chest moved. There was more emotion on his face than he’d ever seen. When he was on the meds it was different, it was just a constant sort of forced excitement. This was real and this was Andrew. His twin. “I’m going to hug you, yes or no?” Aaron almost choked on air at the words. Words he’d never expected to leave Andrew’s mouth. He saw Betsy falter just a little out of the corner of his eye, her own stalling from where she was writing things down. 

“Yes.” Then slowly, carefully, Andrew shifted forward so he could pull Aaron into him. His arms went around Aaron’s back, and he hesitated just a little before doing the same. Their cheeks rested against each other and when Andrew spoke next, Aaron could feel the words against his ear. 

“We’re okay, you hear me? Both of us. We’re a little bit broken, but we’re doing okay.” Aaron nodded, taking a stuttered breath. And if the two of them, the same yet not the same, held onto each other for just a little longer then that was just fine. 

They were just okay.

---------

Again, I’m sorry about the lateness! Hope you liked it:)) I’m also sorry it’s not as long as it was, but trying to remember everything to rewrite was so difficult.

[simonsrosebud]

kevin & dalton tell their families about an engagement...

kevin walks into the stadium, ignoring the two foxes that freeze at his presence, and continues right to his fathers office.  he leans in the open door and knocks on the wall.

“practice ended less than two seconds ago, what do you want?”

“to talk to my father?”

wymack looks up from his papers.  “did we have plans that i forgot about?”

kevin ignores it in favor of taking the seat across from him.  wymack frowns, but waits for kevin to get up the courage to continue.

“i’m gonna propose to dalton.”

wymack’s eyebrows pop up, and he leans back in his chair.  “really.”  kevin nods.  “about damn time.”

and kevin huffs out a lough.  his shoulders relax.  “yeah?”

“everyone’s been waiting for it since you graduated.  nicky loses a bet about it each summer, dan’s about to lose a bet that you’re doing it before he does.”

and kevin doesn’t really care for the bets, but it makes him feel a little better that they want him to get engaged, at least.

“i just… i wanted your opinion before i did it.”  

“what, think i’d tell you not to?”

“no, just… you’re my father.”

don’t get soft, david.  don’t get soft, david.  don’t-

“you get a ring, yet?”

kevin grins.  he’s got it in his pocket and pulls it out.  wymack whistles.  “this looks more expensive than my car, damnit.”

and when kevin goes to leave, wymack catches his shoulder.  “hey.  i’m proud of you.”

kevin calls george the next week.  they don’t have the time to fly out, especially with keeping dalton unsuspecting.

“hey, kevin!  what’s up?”

“hey, um, are you with the girls or anyone?”

“no, i’m in the office today.  is everything okay?”

“yes!  no, yes, everything’s fine, um, i…”  deep breath.  “i want to propose to dalton, and i thought i should get your blessing.”  he cringes at himself as he says it. 

but george is delighted.  he gasps right away, and laughs.  “of course, shit!  when-when is this happening?  did you already get a ring?  does he know?  sorry, i’m spitting at you right now, just, wow.”

kevin smiles and drops his head.  “we got a cabin in colorado for after the olympics, so i’m doing it then.”

george sighs, a happy one, and tsks.  “i’m glad it’s you, kevin.”

“thank you, george.”

and the evening after he proposes, kevin sends them george and his father a picture of dalton grinning ear to ear with his left hand up.

george miller:  welcome to the family, officially!!

dad:  love it, proud of you

they come home from their colorado getaway in time for their yearly fox dinner at abby’s.  they’re the last ones there, and when they walk in kevin spots the proud look on his father’s face.  and his wandering eyes to dalton’s hand.

dalton sits beside abby.  “i jammed my pointer finger yesterday and i can’t tell if it’s swollen or not but it’s really been bothering me,” he holds his left left out to her.  she frowns and takes it in her hand, smooths her thumb over his finger, then gasps.

“oh my god!  what?!”  she whips around to look at kevin behind her.  “are you serious?!”  he nods.  she hops out of her seat and hugs him.  “oh, kevin!”

and everyone else is looking over confused.  dan looks alarmed, matt is smiling but he doesn’t know what at, and neil speaks up.  “what, did he get married or something?”

he’s joking, but then dalton holds his left hand up and neil’s face falls.  he looks at andrew, who looks unimpressed with his idiot.  he shrugs.  “i didn’t think i was right.”

they visit maryland the next weekend, and the girls make it a point to visit as well.  when they step into the kitchen george claps kevin on the back.

dalton has always known that he’d have his sisters as bridesmaids, which is why he has two little gift bags with them.  “so these are for you two.”  he has his left hand in his pocket and holds the bags out to them.

bella gets hers open first, little things inside, and at the bottom a water bottle.  she coos and turns it around in her hands.  she freezes when she reads what it says.  “what?”  she looks up.  carmen leans over to look at it.

“oh my god?!  are you getting married?!”  dalton grins and nods.  he gets tackled by both of them.

“i’m gonna freak the fuck out, oh my god!  who has a ring?!”  dalton holds his hand out, and she squeals.

anne has tears in her eyes, and hugs kevin.  “these are happy tears, i promise,” she laughs and sniffles.  “i’m so happy for you two.”  she kisses kevin’s cheek.

[scribbleb-red]

i like your face - a morning au

“I’ll get the drinks,” Neil says as soon as they walk into Eden’s.

Andrew raises an eyebrow.

“No one needs to get stabbed tonight,” Neil says. “It’s Hapless Sam on the bar.”

“Spoilsport,” Andrew mutters, but doesn’t move with Neil when he heads to the bar.

Hapless Sam is the new barman helping Roland, stepping in for a few months whilst Ebony, the usual yin to Roland’s yang, is off to have surgery.

Hapless Sam is also the bane of Andrew’s life. He never gets a drinks order right. He constantly peppers them with bad one liners. He also once tried to pick up both Neil and Nicky and Aaron in one night - only stopping when Aaron suddenly duplicated and Andrew stuck a blade under his chin. After that, Roland stepped in.

But the bar was overrun tonight and if Andrew had to so much as look at Hapless Sam - well, someone is going to prison and someone is leaving in a body bag. And you don't need to be a genius to figure out which.

So Neil goes to the bar and Andrew keeps an eye on him - on the red of his hair, the sway of his hips, a new quirk that he had to know drove Andrew crazy. It should be illegal for someone like Neil to have any kind of rhythm - but Neil wasn’t a bad dancer. He was sinuous and unreal, if a little self conscious, and Andrew really really needed a drink before that happened again.

Because it will, promised the voice in his head. Nicky will never rest until Neil dances again. Even if it killed Andrew. He suspected it was partly because Nicky wanted him to dance too.

Neil came back an achingly long time later. There was something odd about the way he looked at Andrew, half a question hovering right beneath his skin.

He set down the tray and Nicky chitters, Aaron glowers, Kevin reaches forward expectantly.

But there’s a yell from the bar and Andrew looks up to see Roland’s furious face, Hapless Sam’s horror.

He catches Roland’s eye and the frantic look there - the way he's turned to stare at Andrew tells him everything.

“Don’t fucking drink anything,” he says to his table.

Aaron puts his glass down. Kevin looks torn but relents under Andrew's stare. Nicky frowns and leans back.

Neil however sways on the spot. His eyes are blown wide, two black pools ringed with the finest circle of ice blue. Andrew reaches for him and Neil reaches back. He looks sad and confused.

"N'drew..." he slurs, "Did I do su'thin bad?" There's a tinge of British in there, a twirl of French.

Andrew tugs Neil down beside him, stomach hollowing because he doesn't know what Neil's taken but it's clear he's taken something. Rage pools in the empty cavern of his chest. He goes to push Neil at Nicky - Roland clearly knows something and he wants answers - but Neil makes a noise in his throat and catches hold of Andrew's sleeve. Even high he's not crossing lines. Andrew aches with that knowledge.

"What did I do?" Neil asks again. "I don' have none secrets."

It takes a moment for Andrew to realise Neil thinks this was his fault. That in some part of this idiot's head, he believes Andrew would drug him again.

"It wasn't me," Andrew says, voice low. "You're okay Neil."

"Stay with Nicky, I'll talk to Roland." And probably gut Hapless Sam, whose fault it inevitably is.

Neil makes that whining noise again and Andrew wishes they didn't have an audience. "Don't wanna kiss Nicky."

"Who said anything about kissing?"

"Not Nicky. Only you."

Nicky's guilty look sets Andrew's teeth on edge.

Andrew needs to talk to Roland but can't leave Neil with the Monsters. Fortunately, Roland comes to them bearing a new tray of drinks and a harried expression.

"Fucking hell guys, I'm sorry. None of you drank those, right?"

"Don't worry Sammy's been banished to the kitchen, he's not doing anything like this again and--"

Andrew is up and in his face within seconds - pinioning Roland against the wall, arm across his throat, knife pricking his side.

"What has he taken?"

Roland notices Neil, gulps.

"It's a new syrup - they call it Goblin Juice and it looks just like lime cordial - Sam thought it was lime for the soda. Fuck Andrew do you need the knife? Ow fuck fuck fuck okay stop, it's made using shrooms. Non addictive. Just meant to make you happy - kinda soft."

But of course Neil was the one who drank it. If it had been any of the others, perhaps no one would have even noticed - maybe even celebrated the free high.

But Neil...

Kevin and Aaron are helping themselves to the new drinks when he lets Roland go. Nicky looks pale and nervous and is holding a shot but not drinking. Neil has flopped back on their sofa and is staring at Andrew, a wide smile on his face that Andrew immediately hates.

"I really like your face," Neil says when his brain catches up and realises Andrew is paying attention again. "You have a good face."

Andrew shoots daggers with his eyes at Roland and the barman flees, promising free drinks for the night and the next, forever, whenever.

Neil smiles and reaches for Andrew again as he comes back.

Andrew is not drunk enough for this shit, especially when Nicky coos. "Oh he's so cute. He should have gotten high sooner."

Andrew wants to warn his cousin to back off but Neil has wriggled around and nuzzled his face against Andrew's shoulder. It's heedlessly distracting. It's dangerously adorable.

"Do yous like my face Nyandrew?" Neil says. "I really really like yours. Look at your face. Hey is my head still attached?"

Andrew sees the way Neil is teetering, wraps his hand across the back of Neil's neck and tugs him close. It's not a hug. It's for the idiot's own safety that's all. However, apparently for sky-high-Neil, silence and gestures isn't an answer.

"You don't like my face?"

The slight tremble in Neil's voice is what makes Andrew swallow his frustration and reply. He can't stand that tremble. "I like your fucking face." "I like yours too." And then Neil's finger boops Andrew's cheek.

"Nose," he says. "Good nose."

For. Fucks. Sake.

But it's kind of hilarious (and ruinously cute) as Neil - gentle as a moth wing - strokes over Andrew's cheek and along his temple, finds the bridge of his nose and the swell of his lips.

"Good face."

Andrew contains himself by a miracle. He's fairly sure Aaron is filming this.

"If that footage goes anywhere but the trash, I'll fucking stab you."

"If you were going to stab me, you would have done it a long time ago brother."

"No stabbing," Neil says. "Too many witnesses. Oh hey, look at the fireflies."

Neil lifts one hand to the empty ceiling. There are no fireflies. This is Eden's. Andrew wants to take Neil home but doesn't think putting him in a car is going to do much good right about now.

"You like my face," Neil sighs and sits back. "Even all of this."

"Yes," Andrew says. "Because of all of this."

It's not the scars, it's because Neil survived. That he should have broken and yet still held himself together by tooth and claw.

"I didn't drug you," Andrew says, close to the shell of Neil's ear. "I promise."

"Okay," Neil says. "Good. I don't wanna kiss Nicky."

And there it is again, the second time Neil has mentioned this. Andrew looks at his cousin, who has escaped with Kevin onto the dancefloor.

They'll have a little chat later, when Neil isn't on another planet.

"You're the best," Neil says. "I'll kiss you."

"Not tonight."

Because even if Neil is warm and flush against him. Even if Neil is soft and pliant and willing. This is a man who has been drugged and cannot give consent. Hell, he's watching fireflies that don't exist and stroking Andrew's chin, like he's forgotten Andrew has teeth. Neil is not okay.

Aaron leans back in his chair. "If it's molly, he could be flying for hours."

"It's some kind of shroom shit."

"So even longer then."

Andrew's fingers tighten on Neil's shoulder. "So we can't wait this out?" He should have asked Roland that.

"Probably not, no. Take him home. I'll bring the others."

And for once Andrew decides to trust his brother. He gathers Neil and his loose limbs and leaves Aaron to manage Kevin and Nicky. It’s a one of the hardest things he’s ever done but Bee’s buzzing voice tells him it's time to let Aaron prove himself, standalone.

Neil is awful as they leave - smiling at everyone and everything, even things that aren’t there. His eyes shine and every time he looks at Andrew, there’s a draw of breathe like he’s never seen him before.

“You are,” Neil says, “the best thing. The abs’lute best thing. Hold me up and keep me sage, no safe. Mean safe. You me safe.”

And Neil cannot sing but his voice is sing song and full of wonder.

Andrew is going to gut Hapless Sam like a fish from chin to pelvis.

They drive home - slowly because Neil keeps getting distracted by things Andrew is doing, like blinking (your eyelashes are so white, like snow flakes Andrew) and breathing (but look how you move, so amazing). But Neil is so soft and happy and obsessed, it’s hard to be angry.

Columbia is dark, their house musty with absence. They’ve not visited for a while and Andrew had been hoping for something slightly different tonight.

Neil apparently had too. “Yes? Andrew? Yes?” He says.

“No,” Andrew says. And he never thought he’d hate seeing Neil obey - not with this - but there’s hurt and confusion and concern and a thousand layers of emotion on Neil’s face when he hears it this time. All the feelings Neil must usually keep tucked away when it isn’t always yes for Andrew.

Andrew relents, “Just this,” he says as he settles onto the sofa, guiding Neil down with him. Neil’s reaction is instant - dopey smile and arms that snake around Andrew in a loose but escapable hold.

“Warm,” he says. “Strong.”

The hours tick by in highs and lows - Neil is happy in phases, then almost crying in others. He tells Andrew things that cross his mind, about Andrew, about the Foxes and exy. He hides in Andrew’s hoody when he sees shadows crawling and is convinced they’re from his father.

Andrew does his best to soothe and protect - it’s all in Neil’s head and Andrew isn’t a soft man, but he keeps Neil close and lets him talk. A few years ago he couldn’t have done this. But a few years ago he and Neil were new and still cutting each other on their sharp edges.

Aaron herds an unhappy Nicky and an almost paralytic Kevin inside. Aaron seems sober but that could just be in comparison.

“Our cousin,” Aaron tells Andrew, “is a fool. But you care about him and shouldn’t kill him for doing what you asked.”

“What did he do?”

Aaron shrugs. “Just a kiss I believe. But might explain a bit more why your nut-job boyfriend knocked himself out that time.”

“That was cos imma liar,” Neil chimes with all the confidence of the truly seshed. “Liar liar liar.”

“Not anymore.”

“Yeah. Not with you.”

There's water and toast and Neil naps at one point but Andrew doesn't because he knows what's next - and he's right. Neil is sick for what feels like hours but isn't. Aaron brings more water. A small part of Andrew wonders if his twin actually likes seeing Neil so ridiculous.

Turns out he's right about that too.

Aaron tells him when Neil is hurling up his guts that seeing Neil like this, seeing Andrew with him like this, makes more sense than anything he's seen prior.

"You're everything to him." Aaron doesn't say that Neil is everything to Andrew but the implication is there.

And when Neil is finally in their bed, safe and asleep, Andrew calls Roland and leaves a warning. Hapless Sam had better be fired or there wouldn't be an Eden's Twilight.

He stays awake and stays awake. He falls asleep around 6am.

Neither of them stir until well into the afternoon and when Neil does, he buries his face in the pillows and groans.

"Oh my god. Andrew I'm so --"

"Shut up." Andrew doesn't want apologies for this. He sees the embarrassed pink of Neil's ears, the flush on his neck. "Stop."

Neil groans again and Andrew knows he must feel like shit right about now. That he's mortified. That he's worried. That Andrew has the power to make it right.

Something wicked flickers in his gut.

"Hey junkie," he says. "I like your face."

-The End-

Notes:

[wulfrann]

A wingman winged (Palmetto by the Sea part 1)

All for the game

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationship: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Allison Reynolds, Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (side)

Additional Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - No Exy, First Meeting, Eden’s Twilight, Neil ‘Best Wingman’ Josten

[Part 1 of the Palmetto by the Sea series - Chapter 1/1 - 3k words - Published 2020-12-10]

Summary :

It's a Saturday night at Eden's, and Allison needs Neil's help to approach the object of her long-suffering crush - that is to say, she needs him to distract the girl's intimidating friend long enough that she's able to approach in the first place.

(TW: alcohol, sexual harassment (short-lived), brief display of violence, smoking)

[Read on Ao3]

*

A wingman winged

The music thumps the ground in rhythm, low and deep like a pulse as it throbs through the club and reverberates into the bodies twisting as one on the dance floor. Eden’s Twilight isn’t really Neil’s scene, but the dark aesthetic and ever-shifting neon lighting make it easy to blend in. The shadows bend and stretch over his scars, reducing them to odd tattoos at first glance - and he makes sure he never gets a second. The clothes he’s wearing are nice enough and all black, but neither form-fitting nor revealing. Standing next to Allison’s brand of tastefully flashy clubwear, he’s no more than a foil. Seduction is her domain, and she thrives on it.

Which is what makes the fact that she’s asking him for help absolutely baffling.

“I’ve seen you wrap more than half this crowd around your little finger like it was nothing. Why can’t you just do the same with her?”

“You don’t understand,” Allison repeats for the third time that night. She has her chin in her hand and is leaning over her drink, swirling the expensive cocktail around with her straw. “I’ve tried everything, and the most I’ve gotten is for her to look at me. She hasn’t even tried to buy me a drink.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

Allison scoffs. “I don’t set myself up for failure. She’s given me no sign that she’s interested. Besides, that little troll of a man she keeps around would probably bite me if I tried.”

Neil snorts at that. He’s seen the man in question glare people away, from both himself and his friend, all evening - on one occasion, he’s almost certain that the man even pulled out a knife. There’s no mistaking the way that the light glinted off of the blade, not even from across a crowded nightclub. Neil would recognise that brief flash anywhere.

His friend though, she looks friendly enough. White hair dyed rainbow at the tips, a silver cross, a few piercings. She’s wearing a black dress that wouldn’t look out of place in daylight and a soft smile that Neil is tempted to believe is fake just because of how earnest it looks. She’s also got the muscle structure of an athlete, a fact which Allison has reminded him of enough times that he’ll probably never be able to forget.

“Couldn’t you just accept your defeat and move on?” Neil tries, but he’s known Allison long enough that his heart isn’t in it. She’s never been one to give up.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Have you seen the arms on her? I’m getting her in my bed whether her little bodyguard likes it or not.”

“What if she’s straight?”

Allison shakes her head at him in that way that means he’s failed at some kind of social task and starts to count her points off her fingers. “Neil, the woman is ripped, has an undercut, rainbow hair, and armpit hair.”

“How do you know-”

“I have eyes. Besides, that blond troll she always comes here with is definitely gay, and everyone knows queer people travel in group.”

Neil throws a skeptical glance towards the unlikely duo, but doesn’t argue. None of what Allison listed strikes him as particularly telling, but he’s been told that his ‘gaydar’ is ‘absolutely abysmal’ on numerous occasions by about everyone he knows except Kevin, who's just as bad as him if Allison can be trusted.

Neil might as well accept his fate. “What do you want me to do?”

Allison grins at him. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

*

Locating the two of them isn’t as easy when he’s not sitting on the upper level but standing right here in the crowd, surrounded by people and blinded by the rapidly changing lights. Years of hyper-vigilance end up paying off once he’s gotten his bearings right, however, and he starts making his roundabout way towards the section of wall they’re leaning on. The man is sipping on some kind of drink and staring blankly into the distance while the woman does most of the talking, though she does glance in Allison’s general direction more than once in the amount of time it takes Neil to reach them. He doesn’t blame her - even he has to admit that Allison’s dancing is a thing of beauty.

Neil, on the other hand, only ever pretends to dance. He’s gone out with his friends often enough that he’s picked up a few generic moves and can blend in, but it just - doesn’t appeal to him. Still, what little grasp he has on it is enough to get to his target unnoticed.

One falsely awkward step later and he’s got a glassful of whiskey and coke soaking into the man’s black tank top and dripping down his pants.

The hand wrapped around his arm, steadying him, is an unexpected addition. Neil’s previous drink messed his balance at the last minute and he’s pretty sure he’d have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t been caught. The man’s grip is undeniable strong, but it’s the eyes that really hold Neil down to his spot. He can’t quite tell the color because of the many strobing lights and colored neons flashing around, but he thinks they might be brown.

“Oops,” Neil says, straightening himself up with exaggerated movements. The man’s eyes flicker down his drenched top before sliding back up to Neil’s eyes without so much as a frown. “Sorry for your muscle shirt,” Neil adds as an after-thought, digging the word out of an afternoon spent (unwillingly) shopping with Allison.

The man arcs a single eyebrow. “You’re drunk,” he says, with one of the flattest voices Neil has ever heard.

Neil smiles widely, swaying a little on his feet. He still has the man’s hand wrapped around his bicep. “No,” he retorts, slurring the words a bit, “I’m Neil.”

The eyebrow arcs up even higher. Neil’s smile widens. He’s about to say something else, whatever sentence he can think of that would maintain the man’s attention on him, when someone else’s voice cuts in.

“Andrew, you’re soaked!”

Neil turns towards the woman, spying Allison making her way over from behind her, and raises his now empty glass. “My fault. I wasn’t looking.”

She smiles. From close up, it looks even softer than Neil thought. “That’s okay, it happens,” she says, then glances down where the man’s hands - Andrew’s? - is still holding on to him. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I just tripped,” Neil reassures her, then looks over at Andrew, whose eyes haven’t left his face. He’s… staring, with an intensity that catches Neil off-guard. And then he’s not, because Allison is coming over and calling his name. The hand drops from his arm like it was burned.

“Neil! There you are.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, then turns, falsely confused, towards Andrew and his friend. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” the woman says, looking a little stunned.

“Your friend spilled his drink on me,” Andrew states, throwing a look at his own friend.

“I was just going to ask the barman for paper towels,” the object of Allison's scheming adds, already half-turning away.

Allison doesn’t hesitate one second before following suit, offering her help. When the woman starts to protest, she takes hold of her arm and all but drags her to the bar. Neil watches the interaction without holding back his smile.

When he turns back towards Andrew, the man is staring at him with a frown.

“Sorry again for your shirt,” Neil offers, though he forgets to make himself sound like he means it. “You should probably take it off.”

The arched eyebrow comes back, and Neil realizes what he just said with a choked laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that. But it would dry faster,” he adds, feeling stupid. Andrew doesn’t look convinced, though, so he feels compelled to add, “I don’t swing.”

“I don’t watch baseball,” Andrew deadpans.

“I’m not talking about baseball,” Neil says, grimacing in disgust. “It’s not even a real sport.”

The look Andrew gives him is the blankest one yet. Neil looks down into his empty glass, then at Andrew’s tank top.

“You really should rinse it down, at least,” he ends up saying. “Otherwise it’s going to stick.”

Andrew stares at him a little longer, then downs his glass and starts to move in the direction of the bathroom. For some reason, Neil follows.

The bathroom is painted mostly black, like just about everything in Eden’s. Only the large sink is white. Neil leans back against it and watches as Andrew grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser and soaks them with water, then starts to wipe at his shirt. He thinks about helping, but remembers the way Andrew avoided touching anyone on his way to the bathroom and figures that there’s not much he could do, anyway.

“You’re not drunk,” Andrew states after a while.

Neil debates lying as Andrew throws the wet ball of paper away and walks to the dispenser to get more, but decides against it. “No, I’m not. I don’t like it.”

Andrew barely glances at him. “You play drunk well for someone who doesn’t like it.”

“S’not hard,” Neil says, shrugging, then figures he might as well come clean and adds: “Allison needed an excuse to talk to your friend.”

Andrew meets his eyes then, eyebrow arched up. “Did she try buying her a drink?”

“That’s what I said.” Neil smiles, then shrugs again. “Apparently she’s been trying to get your friend’s attention for weeks, but nothing’s worked.”

Andrew lets a sharp breath out of his nose, which Neil guesses is the equivalent of a laugh, if the lack of facial expression he's shown so far is anything to go by. “If that’s what she thinks, then your friend’s blind.”

Neil grins. “I’m glad. I thought I’d caught her staring a few times, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Renee likes to think she’s subtle.”

“Well, at least they’re talking now. I don’t think you’re getting those paper towels though,” Neil adds, watching Andrew wash his hands with a distracted kind of fascination. Somehow, the dark armbands encasing both of Andrew’s forearms make his hands stand out. Broad, and worn, with an odd elegance in the way they move. Neil would bet a lot of money on Andrew having some kind of manual career, at the very least a hobby. Something meticulous.

It’s only after Andrew’s wiped his hands and thrown away one last paper towel that Neil realizes he’s been staring, and he moves his eyes to Andrew’s face instead. He finds him with his head tipped slightly to the side, looking at him with the faintest hint of curiosity on his face.

Neil is about to say something - he's not sure what - when some guy he’d barely registered on his radar suddenly steps into his space.

"Hey there, pretty face,” the guy slurs, exhaling cheap booze right into Neil’s face. “Were you waiting for me?"

Neil looks up at the guy's face and begrudgingly resists the urge to bash an elbow into his nose. "Obviously not," he spits.

Hoping that it's enough for the guy to take his hint and leave, Neil starts to turn back towards Andrew. He is immediately jostled back towards the guy as a large hand grabs his chin and twists. "Hey, I was talking to you, Scarface."

"Wow, I've never heard that one before," Neil retorts, rolling his eyes. "You know, you should really make up your mind, asshole. Either I'm pretty or I'm not. Now get lost," Neil says, and is about to jam his knee into the guy's crotch when something tears the asshole away from him. Neil's balance is shaken by the movement, but he manages to stay upright by gripping the sink.

"You don't touch people without their permission. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" Andrew says, pressing down upon the hold he has on the guy's arm, which he's twisted behind his back with one hand. He has a knife pressed to the guy's throat with the other. His voice is flat enough to cut. "If I see you again, I'll gut you. Understood?"

The guy nods and Andrew sends him sprawling onto the floor. He scrambles quickly to his feet and promptly runs out the door. Light glints off the small knife’s blade, clutched so tightly Andrew’s knuckles look white.

"Thanks," Neil says in the silence. "But I could have handled it."

"I don't care," Andrew snarls back.

Neil looks at the tension oozing out of Andrew's every cell and decides to keep silent. It's the right decision, judging by the way Andrew closes his eyes and starts packing up the tension, folding it back inside little by little. Neil knows the feeling.

The knife vanishes from his hand (and into one of the sheaths Neil suspects are sewn into the armbands), and Neil follows Andrew out of the bathroom. They stand by the door for a bit while Neil watches Andrew scanning the crowd with a clenched jaw. The tension is still there, even packed up, even pressed down tight under the surface of his skin. It needs more space than that to leave.

"Let's get out of here," Neil offers.

Andrew glances at him, then nods. Neil takes a hold of the hem of Andrew's shirt and leads the way out of the club.

*

The night's chill is a welcome change of pace after the density of the packed club's air. Neil inhales a gallon of it as soon as they've stepped outside, and hears Andrew do the same. It smells of cigarette butts and wet asphalt. He had no idea it'd rained.

A faint click on his right - Andrew lights a cigarette and offers him another one. Neil takes it and watches the smoke spill out of Andrew’s mouth like magic, grabbing hold of the lighter only as an afterthought. The metal is smooth under his touch and slightly warm over the imprint of Andrew’s hand. Neil brings the cigarette to his lips and takes a drag, closing his eyes to focus on the burning air flow rushing down his windpipe. He blows it out smiling, eyes trailing after the faint grey cloud. Andrew’s eyes are on him.

“Thanks,” he tells him, raising his cigarette in the air.

They smoke in silence. Neil lets the little circle of fire eat away at his cigarette without taking another drag, content just to breathe and to watch as the tension coiled so tight in Andrew’s chest unwinds, seeping out, one exhalation at a time, into the quiet night.

The quiet can’t last forever, however, especially not on a Saturday night at Eden’s doorsteps, and so the peace is brutally broken a few minutes later as a group of inebriated twenty-somethings spill out over the sidewalk laughing loudly and singing songs. Andrew adroitly sidesteps one of them as he staggers to the side before getting dragged back by his friend, brushing shoulders with Neil. They got their stuff back from the cloakroom when they stepped out and Andrew’s wearing a leather jacket over his muscle shirt, black as the rest of his clothes.

Andrew looks at the group staggering its way down the street until they’re far enough they can barely hear them. “Are you hungry?”

Neil shrugs. “Kinda. Why? Are you asking me to dinner?” Neil asks, smile tugging at his lips. “I doubt we’ll find anything open.”

Andrew smothers the butt of his cigarette on the wall and tosses it into the trashcan Eden’s staff left by the door, then gestures at Neil to follow. It goes against about every instinct Neil has cultivated along the years, but he does.

He doesn’t know why. Andrew’s back is broad and he walks at a steady pace, with an assurance that doesn’t look learned and yet still probably is. Neil remembers the way Andrew looked when he bent the asshole’s arm behind his back, like what he really wanted was to break it in half but knew that he had to hold back. His voice hadn’t faltered then, either. Neil wonders if it ever does.

They stop in front of a motor bike parked some way off of the club, street lights glinting off of the metal and black bodywork. Andrew gets a helmet from some kind of locked compartment and hands it over to Neil, who takes it by reflex.

“Where are we going?” he asks, turning the helmet around in his hands. He’s starting to wonder whether Andrew’s even aware that there are other colors outside of black.

Andrew grabs a pair of gloves out of the compartment and slips them on. “A kebab joint,” he says without looking at Neil. “It’s open until 3.”

 Neil considers the bike, then the helmet in his hands. “I’ve never ridden on a bike before.”

“Don’t get on before I tell you to. Don’t make me lose my balance. When the bike leans into turns, lean with it,” he drones out. “If you do that and hold on, you’ll be fine.”

Neil considers Andrew. The solid stance of him. Once he climbs on the bike, he’ll have no control until they stop.

“Okay.”

There’s a buzzing beneath his kin.

*

The kebab joint is a tiny square of neon light squeezed in-between two higher-end shops, and the only open place to sell food for miles around. There are no tables and no interior, just a counter with a window display that reminds Neil of ice-cream shops, filled with meat fillings, some kind of fried rolls, and a handful of sad-looking pastries. The items are listed above and to the sides - hamburgers, kebabs, paninis, all with various meats and side dishes and an array of sauces Neil’s never heard of before. He has no idea where to start, and so asks for the same thing Andrew ordered.

They pack the smell of cheap food and fat in plastic bags and leave the shop front to sit by the pier. The kebab is greasy and would have made Kevin scream, but the meat is tasty and the sauce is good, and it’s somehow the perfect thing to eat right now.

Through the cloud of their food wafts the sharp smell of iodine. They claimed a spot of the pier to sit, legs dangling through the railing, and the wood too smells of salt, is so ingrained with it that it sticks slightly to the skin and leaves imprints of tiny crystals on their clothes.

They eat in silence; the wash and backwash of the sea beneath the pier is a rolling whisper, swishing quietly past the piles and back again, a dark rippling sky in movement. There is no agitation around them, yet still it seems as though the sea swallows all sounds, pillows the silence with its mass, shaping a quietude with depth. It’s a quality of peace Neil has never felt before.

He’s just about finished with his food when his phone buzzes.

[From: Allison] where r u??

Neil snorts. Andrew raises a quizzical eyebrow at him, but he just shakes his head.

[To: Allison] I left 30 minutes ago, but thank you for noticing.

[From: Allison] was busy :-*

[From: Allison] u haven’t been kidnapped right? did u go home?

[To: Allison] No and no. I’m at the pier with Andrew.

[From: Allison] ?????

[From: Allison] was that a joke???

Neil huffs out a laugh, enjoying the confusion, and puts his phone on silent as more texts keep coming in. Andrew’s phone buzzes once, but he doesn’t check it - just grabs a cigarette and his lighter, replacing the smell of their meal with another. The smoke drifts up and disperses, yielding to the handful of stars valiantly fighting against the electrical constellations of city lights. The moon is gibbous amongst them and fractal upon the sea; Neil distractedly notices that it’s waning, as the curve makes a d and Jean’s trick somehow never left his mind, despite his lack of interest in the conversation at the time.

It makes Andrew look even paler, this lighting. His hair is made of silver and the volumes of his face either stand out or cave, stark and almost unreal.

Andrew’s eyes flick to his.

“Staring.”

Neil smiles. He takes the cigarette from Andrew’s hand and takes a drag, blowing memories up, up, up until they’re gone.

“What do you do?” he asks when he hands the cigarette back. “For a living, I mean.”

Andrew doesn't answer. He just looks at Neil and pulls on his cigarette. A bit of wind blows the smoke sideways, across his cheek and back to land.

"If you won't tell me, I'll guess," Neil says when it's clear he's not getting an answer, and pretends to study Andrew's appearance for clues. "You could be an artist. You look like one." He grins at the unimpressed look on Andrew's face. "Bit of a cursed poet vibe, with the piercings and all that black. Strong aesthetic. I guess you could be a musician, too."

The corner of Andrew's mouth twitches. "Shallow."

Neil shrugs. Appearances tell a lot more than people think, but he's pretty sure he got it wrong. He doesn't actually know how artists are supposed to look like - that's not really the kind of things he learned to watch out for - but it's as good a guess as anything. "It's either that or undertaker."

Andrew blows smoke out through his nose. "Sorry to disappoint, but I just serve drinks."

Neil hums. "Full time?"

"No. I also cook."

"You're a chef, and you still eat food like this?" Neil asks, waving at the plastic bag sitting between them.

"Aide," Andrew corrects. "Anas' is the only decent place still open. I don't see you complaining."

"It was pretty good," Neil grants, then adds, because it's only fair: "I'm a student."

"Late calling?"

Neil smiles. "Something like it."

An eyebrow shaped like a question. Neil ignores it in favor of the sea, but the weight of Andrew's gaze stays fixed on him like an anchor. He wonders if Andrew's trying to guess what something like it may hide; wonders how far away from reality he's wandering, trying to find something reasonable; wonders, even, how he'd react if Neil told him the truth. Whether he'd balk at the scars that prove it or stare at them the same way he's staring at the ones across his face now, blank and unwavering, on the upside of bored.

*

Riding on Andrew's bike the second time is just as exhilarating as the first. The city flies by in a blur - the docks, the bars, the empty streets, they blend together and melt together until there's nothing really left but them, passing. Alone. A figment caught between two worlds.

When Andrew drops him off, the ground still moves beneath his feet. Neil shoves his hand into his pockets and grins, feeling absurdly carefree.

"Thank you. For the ride and for the food - it was amazing."

He means it. Andrew is looking at him like he's trying to figure out if he does. He holds out his hand, and Neil frowns.

He looks to the sky and sighs. "Your phone."

"Oh," Neil says. He puts his phone in Andrew's palm.

Andrew takes one glove off and puts his number in quickly. He tosses his phone back to Neil and brings two fingers up to his temple in salute.

The bike roars to life, the noise filling the street until it's gone. Neil looks down at the brand new contact in his phone, carefully prodding at the little bit of warmth beneath his sternum.

Matt, Dan, Wymack, Allison, Abby, Kevin, his therapist, his dentist and his doctor. Andrew's number brings the staggering total amount of contacts into his phone to a very satisfying 10.

[littlespoonevan]

me??? writing andreil in 2020???? it’s more likely than you think!

okay this has literally been in my inbox for like, two years probably?????? i don’t even know if the person who sent me this still follows me or is even on tumblr anymore but i refused to delete it bc i knew one day i’d come up with the right circumstance for andrew to reach 1000% sakdjfha i hope this one lives up to the significance of that number <3

*

Andrew hates surprises. Neil knows Andrew hates surprises. But…he really wants to surprise him.

The thing is, as fun as it is to rile up the press with the Minyard-Josten rivalry, being on different pro-teams sucks.

The thing is, long-distance is fucking killing them.

The thing is, Neil misses Andrew. And he thinks Andrew misses him too.

So he’s been talking to his manager, had told him that he wants to change teams when the season is over. If he were any other player Neil wouldn’t have the luxury of being able to approach another team, especially so early on in his career, but his skill combined with the amount of press he brings in – good or otherwise – makes him an intriguing asset.

And apparently Andrew’s coach is a secret romantic who feels bad about how much effort he and Andrew put into trying to see each other despite their schedules.

Or at least that’s what Neil’s manager sardonically informs him when he gets off the court after his last game of the season. Between coming down from the high of the game and the news that he finally, finally, gets to stay with Andrew, Neil almost collapses in relief.

He showers and gets changed on autopilot, absently thinking that he should spare himself a moment of sentimentality to say goodbye to his teammates and the year they’ve spent together. But Andrew is waiting in the parking lot and Neil hasn’t touched him in over two weeks and really, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything else right now. So he hikes his gear bag higher over his shoulder and slips out one of the side entrances before anyone can waylay him.

Andrew is leaning against the hood of his car smoking a cigarette when Neil steps into the parking lot and Neil clamps down on a cheek-splitting grin when he catches sight of him. Fuck, he missed him. He feels a thrill run up his spine just at the possibility of being in his orbit once again.

“Hey,” he calls out when he’s close enough.

Andrew takes one last drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt aside and standing up straight. His face doesn’t betray much but Neil can see anticipation in the tight line of his shoulders.

“Hi,” Andrew replies when they’re almost toe to toe. His fingers reach out to curl in the front of Neil’s hoodie and Neil releases a quiet breath, letting their foreheads ghost against one another.

Andrew flicks his gaze up to meet his for a moment – a brief pause to silently say yes or no? Because it’s been five and a half years and they don’t really need to ask anymore but sometimes it’s still nice to check.

Neil nods and feels his lips curve up into a smile even as Andrew leans in to slot their mouths together. It’s a chaste kiss because they’re still in the middle of the parking lot even though the place has mostly emptied out by now but still- it’s enough to make excitement at the thought of more bubble underneath Neil’s skin.

Tonight’s game had been a home one so they’re staying in Neil’s apartment and Neil mentally reminds himself to contact his manager tomorrow about not renewing his lease. But the thought leaves him almost as quickly as it comes because Andrew leans back with a look that Neil can’t help chasing and he can’t help stealing one last kiss. And then Andrew’s huffing his version of a laugh and pushing Neil’s face away before deftly stepping out of the space Neil had inadvertently crowded him into to round the car to the driver’s side.

Neil blinks for a second, feeling dazed, before he quickly follows suit and climbs into the passenger seat. He can’t wait to tell Andrew the truth but he wants the moment to be right.

He wants it to be one they can allow themselves to get lost in together and that won’t happen in the car so instead he opens his window a crack, lets Andrew mess with the radio stations until he’s found something soft and mellow and leans back against his seat with his head rolled to the side to watch Andrew drive.

Andrew casts a glance at him when he’s been driving for about five minutes and scoffs, muttering out, “Junkie,” under his breath before he takes one hand off the steering wheel and reaches over to lace it with Neil’s.

Neil smiles to himself and closes his eyes.

*

Later on, when they’ve thoroughly made up for the past two weeks apart, they’re lying in bed – Neil on his stomach, half-leaning up on his elbows while Andrew lies on his back, idly running his fingers down the line of Neil’s spine as he gazes up at him.

And it’s such a quietly peaceful moment that Neil knows now is the time to tell him.

“So, I have some news,” he starts cautiously and Andrew lifts a lazy eyebrow, looking mildly interested but otherwise not reacting.

“I’m not renewing my contract for next season,” he says and that does surprise Andrew, even if his only reaction is the tiniest widening of his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve given up on stickball already,” Andrew drawls, but his hand his flat against Neil’s back now, lightly pressing.

“Not exactly,” Neil hedges with a nervous laugh. He glances down at Andrew’s chest for a beat, at his own knuckles gently pressed against Andrew’s ribs, and he takes a breath. “Your coach agreed to sign me.”

Andrew’s body goes impossibly, impossibly still and Neil tries his very best not to panic.

“What.” Andrew’s voice is flat with no inflection but Neil pays more attention to his eyes, at the flicker of emotion hidden there. Something that looks a little bit like barely-concealed hope.

“I’m fucking sick of commuting,” Neil says. “And I’m sick of missing you. I don’t want to do it anymore. My lease on this place is up soon and when it is…” He leaves the rest hanging in the air between them.

I’m coming back to you. I’m staying with you. Please tell me you want me to stay with you.

Andrew doesn’t speak right away but he doesn’t extricate himself from Neil’s body either so Neil is counting it as a good thing. His gaze sticks on Neil’s shoulder for a moment, the bad one mottled with the iron scar, and his hand leaves his back to reach up and close over it. Neil swallows at the contact but doesn’t say anything, knows well enough to wait him out.

“We’re going to be on the same team,” Andrew says slowly and Neil nods.

“I wanna stay with you,” he whispers and part of him thinks back to the early days all those years ago when Andrew had offered his tenuous protection in order to let Neil find a home. Neil had found a home alright but it hadn’t been a dorm room in Palmetto.

“Andrew, say something,” he requests softly, keeping his voice low in attempt not to show how anxious he truly feels.

Andrew’s throat bobs – the only thing giving him away – and then he looks Neil in the eye and says, “1000%.”

Neil breathes out a wet laugh, head dropping down in relief, and Andrew’s other hand snakes its way into his hair, twisting through the curls at the back of his head. He tugs lightly until Neil raises his head again and then Andrew’s there with his hooded eyes and his calm expression and his barely-there smile that only Neil ever recognises as a smile and he’s murmuring, “C’mere,” right against Neil’s lips.

Neil kisses back with a hum, following Andrew down until Andrew’s head is back on the pillow and Neil is leaning over him.

They kiss until Neil’s lungs are burning, until one of his legs has overlapped with Andrew’s under the sheets, until Andrew’s hands are inextricably tangled in Neil’s hair and eventually, when they pull away, they only get far enough for Neil to press his temple against Andrew’s forehead, still sharing each other’s breaths.

“So I’m guessing you think this is good news?” Neil comments causally, letting out a breathy laugh when Andrew shoves him away. He lands on his back, a stupid kind of happy as Andrew leans up and over him.

“Just this once,” Andrew says seriously, “one of your dumb ideas actually has merit.”

Neil beams at him. “Just tell me you’re fucking happy and be done with it,” he teases, grin widening when Andrew rolls his eyes.

Andrew kisses him again, lips smudging against the corner of Neil’s mouth before connecting with his chin and then his jaw and then, hardly loud enough to hear, he says, “I thought I already did,” against Neil’s neck.

And Neil’s heart contracts because he did. That stupid fucking percentage has never meant what Andrew always claimed it did and Neil understands that. Understands it’s just another of their own little rituals that allows them to freely say “I love you” when those words feel too heavy for them.

“I know,” Neil replies quietly, letting his own hand settle on the base of Andrew’s neck before sliding up to thread through his hair. Andrew pushes back up on his hands to meet Neil’s eyes and he balances on one arm so he can fit the palm of his free hand to Neil’s cheek, thumb brushing over his scar.

And Neil reminds himself once again that they beat all the fucking odds.

“I’m happy too,” Neil tells him with a lightness he hasn’t felt since they were both still at Palmetto together and the thought of separation was only a looming mirage in the future.

Andrew nods – an acknowledgment or an agreement – and then dips down until he’s covering Neil with his entire body and his cheek is resting on top of Neil’s chest.

Neil holds him and thinks he’ll never have to miss him again.

*

[nekojitachan]

Hi, I love your fic'❤️ and I wanted to know if you could write even a short one about what would happened if Riko didnt find Andrew and Neil in WDWG

Thank you! 💖 Okay, so I did my best to keep this as short as possible, just a glimpse of the boys’ life if Riko had never found them/if they were able to live on undisturbed, just the two of them.

Uhm, I think it’s pretty safe? Just the ongoing burying bodies joke....

*******

Neil had just sold the two tourists from New York a (very ugly) tea set and couple rare blends of tea (Jodi would be pleased) when Massey’s recommendation returned. Neil gave him a stern look to convey ‘not now’ while he waited on a regular, Mrs. Huang, taking the time to let her sniff the lu’an tea they had in stock to ensure that it was up to her high standards before he bagged the requested amount, chatting with her in Mandarin the entire time. It was only after she left (and he was certain that the store was empty) that Neil motioned the anxious man forward while he reached beneath the counter for the wrapped bundle he and Jodi had worked on earlier.

“It’s ready?”

“Yes.” Neil answered in French as he set the bundle on the counter, just out of reach, then slid his phone into view. “New passport, bank account, driver’s license, birth certificate, the works.”

The man, face haggard from stress and freshly bleached hair falling onto his forehead, gazed at the package as if it a holy grail of sorts. “Let me see the passport. Please,” he added, his voice hoarse with need.

Used to being asked such a question, Neil shrugged and unfolded the brown wrapping paper enough to slip free the passport (French) and flipped it open to prove to the man (no names had been exchanged, which he much preferred) that it would pass for authentic (he did excellent work). Some of the tension left the man’s stocky body upon seeing it, as did a quick glance at the other items in the wrapping paper; he pulled out his phone to transfer the agreed upon amount of money to the account number Jodi had given him last night.

Neil checked his phone to ensure the money had been deposited then slid the items across the counter. “Good luck,” he told the man, who snatched up his new life, nodded in acknowledgement, then fled the Jade Leaves tea store.

Neil dealt with a few more tourists (not his favorite thing) and a handful of regulars (which he much preferred, especially when they brought him snacks) by the time Jodi returned. “Bah, it’s raining,” she complained as she pushed back the hood of her jacket; fall in Montreal could be unpredictable, could be an extension of summer or an early taste of winter, and now it looked as if the warm spell was giving way to colder temperatures and rain.

“Be thankful it’s not snow,” he told his boss as he handed over a cup filled with oolong, which he brewed throughout the day for customers and staff (well, him and Jodi) alike.

“Hush, you,” she chided before she took a cautious sip. “Hmm, how was business?”

He held up his phone, and huffed when she gave a pleased smile in return; she’d noticed the money deposited in the account earlier, an account which would soon disappear after she transferred the funds elsewhere (some to Neil). “Steady. I managed to get rid of the awful tea set.”

“The one with the gibberish on it?” Jodi’s pale brown eyes went wide and she laughed with joy as she reached to pat Neil on the shoulder. “Ah, sending you here was the best favor Gabe ever did for me.”

“Hmm.” Neil had to agree; as Aidan’s senior year of high school had drawn to an end, they’d been uncertain as to what to do next. Stick around until Neil graduated? Have Aidan apply to university? Move on to a new set of identities? They’d made a home of sorts in Racine, but Neil worried about his father’s people catching up to them at some point and Aidan was tired of them pretending to be siblings.

It was during a check-in with Durand that the forger had brought up that his cousin in Montreal was looking for help: an assistant who could speak French and if not take part in forging documents, at least keep their mouth shut. Neil and Aidan had debated it for a few days, but in the end they trusted Durand (as much as they did anyone else), Montreal put them farther away from the remnants of Nathan’s gang, and they could start anew.

Instead of half-brothers, they were newlyweds.

(Neil barely managed to not freak out when Aidan told Durand to create a marriage license for them, saving it until they were alone in the car. Only to be stopped mid-rant when Aidan held up a ring and asked him ‘yes or no’.)

Neil kept his first name (he didn’t want to let go of it after keeping it for so long), while Aidan became Andrew once more. Neil and Andrew Keenan, two young fools in love who struck out on their own rather than be apart (or so most people assumed). Neil spent the last couple months before they left Racine learning Mandarin, and was now picking up Arabic as well. He sold tea in a small store in Chinatown, gossiped with the locals, learned from one of the best forgers in North America (Jodi Liu was every bit as good as her cousin), and very rarely had to use the gun hidden beneath the counter.

“I haven’t heard from Gabe or Massey, so we should be good for the night,” Jodi said as she checked her phone for messages. “Go home.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He ran back to the small breakroom in the back to fetch the container of pork dumplings Mrs. Dai had given him (she kept telling him he was too skinny) then was out the door after wishing Jodi ‘good night’. Despite the rain, he stopped at Tony’s food truck to get a couple cartons of noodles to complete dinner, laughing at the older man’s retelling of a small group of Americans trying to order with appalling French.

“I guess it was better than them trying in Mandarin,” Tony said as he handed Neil his takeaway.

“Andrew complains about the French thing all the time.”

“Yeah, I imagine he’d get it a lot, working in a pastry shop.”

Neil waved goodbye and, after making sure the food was safe in his waterproof messenger bag, jogged down the mostly deserted streets to where Andrew worked, right outside of Chinatown. The bakery was empty of customers, probably because of the rain and the time of day, but the mostly empty display cases indicated that they’d done a good business earlier.

Andrew arched an eyebrow at Neil’s arrival and popped the petit four he held in his hand into his mouth. Once it was chewed and swallowed, he stepped toward the doorway leading back into the kitchen area, covered with a cloth divider. “Naseem, some riffraff just blew into the shop. I’m going to take it home.”

“What?” Andrew’s coworker, a young man with a closely trimmed black beard and a white scarf tied over his short, curly black hair, poked his head through the curtains and smiled when he saw Neil. “Why do you put up with him?” he asked, just like he always did, while he brushed at the flour which dusted his face; he probably was working on some of the pastries for the next day.

Neil gave the same answer, as always. “He knows where the bodies are buried.”

“Ha, you kids and your jokes.” Naseem shook his head as he glanced around the empty shop. “Just lock up before you go.”

Andrew gave him a two-fingered salute then quickly set about clearing out the register and turning off the lights (it looked as if he’d already done a lot of the closing duties already), then grabbed a small box before he ushered Neil out the door, which he locked behind them.

He gave Neil a pointed look as he pulled an umbrella big enough for the both of them out of his own bag and opened it. “You trying to catch pneumonia?”

“I’m open to new experiences?” Neil smiled when he was given the ‘you’re an idiot’ look. “I got dinner.”

“I know, I can smell it.”

“Are you going to share dessert with me?”

“No.”

Neil smiled the entire way home, especially when Andrew hooked their pinkies together; they didn’t have far to go since they rented an apartment in a building which Jodi’s family owned. It had a balcony where they could sit together as they smoked cigarettes or drank something hot, a bathtub big enough for them both to soak in together, and a gas fireplace in the living room which Andrew spent half the winter in front of, along with the cats.

Aibee greeted them at the door, certain to make the deplorable state of her empty belly known, while Elbee sauntered in from their bedroom and flopped down at Andrew’s feet after he kicked off his boots. He sighed and bent down to give the orange tabby a gentle pet before he prodded him to stand up, while Aibee was quick to run into the kitchen once she realized that Neil was headed that way, her fluffy black tail straight up in the air.

Andrew caught the strap of Neil’s messenger bag, which brought him to a halt. “Go change into something dry,” he chided as he maneuvered the bag from Neil’s shoulder.

“Okay.” Neil leaned in for a lingering kiss then did as he’d been told, pulling his damp sweatshirt over his head along the way. It and his jeans were draped over the hamper, swapped out for a soft sweater (that was Andrew’s) and sweatpants. Once dressed, he went into the kitchen to find that his husband had divvied up the food onto two plates, which had been placed on the table, and was feeding the cats.

“Shut up and eat, you ingrates,” Andrew said as he set down their bowls, his deep voice mild and expression almost tender.

“I thought I was the ingrate,” Neil commented as he picked up his chopsticks.

“You’re the idiot ingrate,” Andrew clarified as he sat down, and sighed when Neil stuck out his tongue.

They concentrated on eating for a couple minutes before they (well, Neil) started talking about their day; Andrew nodded along as he went on about the tourists and the documents he’d created. As expected, Andrew complained a bit about the tourists who just had to try out their lousy French on him.

“Jodi send you your part of the job yet?”

Neil frowned as he pulled out his phone and checked the special account where the money from the forgeries went. “Yes, another twenty-five thousand.” He gave Andrew a curious look. “Do I need to route it somewhere?” They were careful with the remaining money his mother had stolen from his father, most of it still tied up in investments for another couple years but a nice amount available for use – especially after Neil had started working for Jodi.

Their biggest expense to date was Andrew’s brother Aaron; when he’d learned about his long-lost mother dying from an overdose and how she’d allowed his twin to become an addict, he and Neil had arranged it so that Aaron’s cousin, Nicky, was able to win custody of Aaron and that Tilda’s ‘life insurance’ was more than enough to support the two until Aaron graduated high school. A little bit more money, a few more pulled strings had gotten Aaron into a university in South Carolina, and Neil had thought that was that.

Or so he had thought.

Andrew got up to fetch the pastry box (along with two forks) and set it on the table, the top open to reveal that inside was some horrendous chocolate thing and a small fruit tart. “We both have vacation time leftover, I thought we could go somewhere warm toward the end of the year.”

Neil gazed at his husband for a moment before he narrowed his eyes. “You just want to get away from the snow for a while.”

Andrew shrugged as he set the tart on Neil’s plate. “You won’t have to listen to me complain about the cold for a couple weeks.”

“Hmm.” That had possibilities, Neil thought as he picked a blackberry from the tart and popped it into his mouth. “You didn’t happen to research ‘the top ten ice cream places in Bora Bora’ or something like that, did you?”

He was given a blank look in return.

“We never had a honeymoon,” or a real wedding, for that matter, “so I get some say in this.”

“No Exy,” Andrew declared as he stabbed his fork in the chocolate monstrosity.

No, no Exy, Neil thought with a wince. He’d soured a bit on the sport after the whole Edgar Allan scandal. “No burying bodies.”

“Again with that? It happened twice.”

“And twice is more than enough, considering the second time, someone was all ‘oh look, I’m bleeding sooo much, you have to do all the digging this time,” Neil said in a mocking voice.

For a moment, he thought he’d be the one bleeding (Andrew had only grown more impressive with those flat stares of his), until his husband clicked his tongue. “Fine, we’ll go somewhere with plenty of water so we can sink the bodies.”

“Huh.” Neil considered that as he had a bite of the fruit tart. “That’ll work.” Not that he wanted to have to sink bodies into the ocean, but… well, it was him and Andrew. Things just happened.

There was a very slight curl to Andrew’s full lips, which meant he was smug as hell at the moment. Neil narrowed his eyes, uncertain about what he’d just agreed to, then figured ‘what the hell’. It would work out in the end, it always did with Andrew.

*******

Forgive me for any liberties taken with Montreal.

The cats’ full names are Anklebiter and Lazybones. If you can’t guess, Andrew named them, and Neil shortened them.

I figured this is set a year or two after Andrew would have graduated. He may be taking online university classes (more as something to do), but Neil’s happy with being a forger (and damn good at it).

It’s like... trying to figure out what to write next. I’ve one or two prompts I want to get done, the next chapter of Casts a Shadow, wrap up the soulmate fic, and another part of Not in the Stars. Decisions, decisions....

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

PLEASE write about Andrew & Jean being chaotic and bitter bffs on the same team the power they would have the intimidation level the fashionable goth energy,,, w ow also I want Andrew to learn French so badly which we all know he would if Jean started insulting him in French

IT WON’T BE UP ANY TIME SOON but I’m writing a fic about Andrew visiting Renee’s for winter break in his final year of college in which he’s forced to spend the week sharing a space with Jean. 

Over the course of said week, they form a tentative alliance that’s essentially that We’re Not So Different You And I bit by John Mulaney 

Anyway, that’s like mid-way through Andrew’s fourth year. They don’t speak again until a little before Andrew’s graduation. The Foxes have just won the Championships they made it to finals last year and lost the last  game :’( and so they’re having a party. Andrew needed some air so he stepped outside and, a little while later, he hears footsteps on the porch behind him. Jean sits down, leaving some space between the two of them so as not to crowd Andrew, and just sort of slides a piece of paper over. Andrew keeps up his cool guy facade for a while, assuming Jean will break first. He does. 

“Would you just look at it?” Jean snarled. Andrew flicked him a cool look before, picking up the paper painstakingly slowly. He held it up to his own face, not bothering to actually read it. “Illiterate too, I see.” Andrew could barely keep the scowl off his face. He squinted at the stack of papers he picked up. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Our goalkeep is, how you say? A piece of shit.”  

“You’re giving him more credit than he deserves,” Andrew cut in, his lips curling in a sneer. 

“I’m getting tired of being the last line of defense. It’s hard not having anyone to watch your back,” Jean said, shooting a meaningful look at Andrew. He elected to ignore it in favor of taking another drag of his cigarette. Jean muttered something that sounded like a curse before standing up and disappearing back into Abby’s house.

A month later, Jean stepped out of his apartment wondering which horrid little monsters the Cardinals had signed now. Turning towards the stairs, he found his answer waiting for him. 

“There’s no point in both of us driving down there. You make breakfast and I’ll drive,” the gremlin said. It wasn’t an offer or even a demand. He said it as though he were stating a fact. 

“The arrogance of Americans never fails to amaze me,” Jean shot back. 

“You’ve got dual citizenship, Frenchie. I’m sorry to say it, but that makes you one of us.” With that, the little monster turned on his heel and headed down the stairs. Jean muttered a steady stream of curses as he followed Andrew out to the Maserati

Having Andrew on his team is literally the worst. All he ever does is laze around. Sometimes, he’ll just lay down in the middle of the goal and stare at the ceiling. Jean gets a lot of shit for it bc he’s the one that recommended him for the line. It’s the day of their first game and tensions are high at practice when Jean loses his temper. He picks up an exy ball and hurls it at Andrew. Without even looking up, Andrew catches it with one hand. He stands slowly and throws it back so fast that Jean doesn’t have time to react. The ball wedges itself into the grate of his helmet, the force of it knocking him off his feet. Everyone assumes that Andrew isn’t going to play that night or will just be his asshole self but, when Jean finds himself struggling to hold the line, Andrew gets sent out and he’s an absolute monster in the goal. Every shot that comes his way gets deflected all the way down the court. The last goal of the night is made in the final seven seconds when Andrew slams a shot all the way down the court into the opposing goal. It lights up red and the crowd loses their shit. Exhausted, Jean collapses on the floor. 

“It’s hard not having anyone to have your back,” Andrew said as he passed by. By the time Jean found his voice, Andrew was already gone. Catching a ride home with one of the strikers, Jean felt a tightness in his chest. Andrew was an annoyingly lazy little bastard but Jean should have trusted him.

Jean doesn’t know how to apologize. Words are wasted on the likes of Andrew so he says nothing. He wakes early to make breakfast the next morning and says a silent prayer. Andrew is never late to anything but, when 6:30 rolls around and he isn’t there Jean’s heart plummets. He leaves the plate out on the counter while he eats. The ticking of the clock is deafeningly loud. At 6:47 there’s a knock at the door and Jean nearly faceplants in his hurry to answer it. 

“Your food’s gone cold,” Jean blurted out. Andrew turned a glare on him but said nothing as he shouldered his way into the apartment. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. His shoulders sagged, weighed down by exhaustion. There was no way he’d gotten a wink of sleep last night. 

“Moreau,” a voice said from the door. Jean whipped around to see Matt Boyd standing at the door. How he’d missed such a tall person standing in his doorway, Jean didn’t know. “Mind if I come in?” Jean stepped aside and Matt moved in. 

“Are you hungry?” Jean asked, haltingly. Boyd was the starting backliner for the Virginia Cavaliers, a whole state over. What the hell was he doing here? 

“I could eat,” Matt said brightly. He grabbed hold of a chair and dragged it over to where Andrew sat. 

“Not out of my plate,” Andrew snapped when Matt made to steal his eggs. Jean made his way to the kitchen to fix a third plate. From the dining room he could hear Andrew’s voice and Boyd’s laughter. Handing the plate over to him, Jean took his seat at the far end of the table. For the next quarter of an hour, Boyd rambled on about something or the other. If you asked Jean what he’d talked about, he wouldn’t have been able to say. He was far too absorbed in watching Andrew. 

The usual tension that pervaded his form had fallen away. Despite the obvious lack of sleep, Andrew seemed far more relaxed than usual. Every now and again, Jean saw his lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile. From what he’d heard, Andrew had never had a good relationship with any of his teammates save Josten. But that made sense. Neil was his lover. What was it about Boyd that softened him so much? 

As soon as breakfast was finished and the plates cleaned, Jean disappeared back into his room to grab his phone. By the time he’d returned, both Andrew and Boyd were gone from the dining room. Jean found the pair blocking the open door. He stopped short when he heard Boyd’s voice. 

“I’ve missed you so much, Andy.” His words shook Jean to his core. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked quietly. Jean watched in stunned silence as Matt leaned down, mumbling yes a hair’s breadth away from Andrew’s lips. The second the word left his mouth, Andrew closed the distance between them. A soft moan slipped from Boyd’s lips and Jean watched in horror as he tangled his hands in Andrew’s hair. “Stop staring, Moreau,” Andrew said as he broke the kiss. 

“I thought that you and Josten-”

“We are,” Andrew cut in dismissively. “Matt is too.”

“Oh,” was all Jean could think to say. Back at the Nest, there had been no exclusive relationships. While most relationships in the real world weren’t like that, Jean had heard there were still a few. Boyd said his goodbyes before heading down the hall to the back stairwell. Andrew started off in the other direction. Jean had to run after him once he’d locked the door. Neither of them spoke in the car. They never did but there was a weight to the silence now that Jean didn’t know what to do about. A thousand small talk topics flitted through his head but he knew Andrew wouldn’t appreciate any of it so he kept his mouth shut, contenting himself to stare out the window. 

Jean is ready to run by the time that they pull up at the court but he doesn't. He needs to prove that he’s going to have Andrew’s back so he stays with him. 

It’s kind of awkward for a while. Andrew doesn’t like having Jean towering over him from behind bc it makes him feel vulnerable so he’s always really tense. 

The turning point in their relationship is when a striker from another team tries to start a twitter feud with Andrew. He gets asked about it in an interview and the interviewer pulls a Kathy Ferdinand and reveals that the striker is backstage. Jean is sitting with Andrew for the interview and when they try to start shit live on air, Jean snaps. He cuts the striker a new one, roasting them within an inch of their life and the interview is forced to end bc the striker throws a punch. Andrew steps in front of Jean, catching the punch with ease and judo flipping them. 

Neither of them really acknowledge that it happened but, when Andrew comes to breakfast the following Monday, he brings a loaf of sweet bread that he baked over the weekend. 

Things kind of settle after that. Sometimes Andrew leaves recipes for foods he wants and Jean starts filling their silences with something other than the news. He complains about Americans and moons over Jeremy and starts teaching Andrew French too. 

Jean has his own tiktok and most of his vids are of himself cooking and have Andrew reacting at the end but there’s a few subsections tho. One of them is Andrew and Jean and their baking escapades. It’s always super messy. Another is their ‘date nights’. On the weekends, the two of them get a little extra dressed up and go out to sample new restaurants.  They’re both massive foodies so they like to try new restaurants together. Andrew is a surprisingly picky eater and listening to him critic food is the most Jean has ever heard him speak. Platonic dates are actually incredibly nice n more ppl need to indulge in them. 

The final subsection is fashion/makeup. Jean likes to do makeup bc… why not? Sometimes, he manages to convince Andrew to let him be his model and does some really interesting looks on Andrew. Those videos never see the light of day but it’s something they do and it’s very important to Andrew. There’s something very intimate about letting Jean touch his face for hours on end but it also kind of feels nice. Also he loves the way Neil and Matt fawn over him when he skypes them with his makeup done. The fashion videos,  however, do go up. The two of them go to the mall p often and take turns styling each other. They do style challenges too where they’re both given the same horrible item (something like crocs or a really ugly sweater) and they have to make the other person look good in them. 

They do little nice things for each other. When Neil has a game against Bluefield, Jean gets Andrew front row tickets for him and manages to convince Matt to come down too. Andrew learns how to make french pastries that he leaves on Jean’s counter pretty often bc it reminds him of home. He also gets Allison to help him pull some strings and arrange for Jean to spend Christmas break in France with Jeremy. Jean doesn’t cry but he does tear up a little bit. 

Andrew is still a menace and you see that on his tiktok. He rigs ridiculous pranks like setting up a tripwire to dump glue and feather on him or wrapping all his stuff in plastic wrap.

[psych0midget]

Secret Stan Account AU Part 2

Part 1

It doesn’t take long for people to figure out that A. Minyard’s book is dedicated to Neil Josten. NEIL FREAKING JOSTEN. Like Neil Josten, the one and only exy player who can play every position? He’s a formidable backliner, a precise dealer (though he hates the position, fiercely) and one of the most promising strikers of the exy panorama? That Neil Josten? Oh. My. God.

Neil has thousands, millions of fans out there. But he had seriously underestimated it. It doesn’t take long for his fans to put two and two together, realise that he has a secret stan account and start looking for it.

It also doesn’t take them long to find it, not when Neil didn’t have the foresight of using a fake name on twitter. There are only so many book twt accounts run by someone called Neil.

Most of his fans are excited about it. Some are not. Especially when they realise that his account is also a Kevin Day stan account.

It’s a pr nightmare, that’s what Allison tells him as soon as he picks up the phone. She tries to keep everything under control, but by the time Neil’s done with the meetings, the interviews and all the unnecessary drama, he opens up Twitter only to find out that his stan account has been deleted.

And so has Drew’s.

Neil curses. He hadn’t had time to text Drew and tell him that he’d seen the dedication. And Drew, or rather A. Minyard has no official social medias. He’s fucked, he’s well and truly fucked.

The only source of info is the website of Drew’s publisher. But there’s a just a short bio saying that A. Minyard is a 27 year old author from Columbia. Has three cats and knows how to use knives, he swears the fight scenes in his books are all real. There’s also a photo and it’s the portrait of a blond man with eyes the color of honey staring impassively at the camera. And It’s the only thing Neil has left of Drew.

Jean Moreau gets back home only to find his roommate looking at his laptop, tabs and tabs and tabs open on his desktop. There’s a cup of coffee on the ground, a half-eaten sandwich on the rug (!!!) and a phone book (he had no idea those things still existed in 2019) on the sofa.

Jean ushers Jeremy inside the apartment, closes the door behind them and sighs. “Have you tried calling your uncle yet?” he asks. “I tried, but it’s 3am in the UK, he’s not picking up.”

Jean had meant it as a joke. A joke. Jean will kill Neil if the FBI doesn’t kill him first. “You tried calling the British mafia just to find your internet boyfriend? Are you nuts?”

Neil, the bastard, doesn’t even look sorry.

Jean almost starts shaking as he tries NOT to throw a chair at Neil’s, but Jeremy wraps his arm around his waist and rubs slow circles on his hip till he calms down. God bless Jeremy, god bless Jeremy especially when he says “You know Minyard’s doing a book tour right? He should be in Chicago next week, you could always show up there?”.

And Neil, Neil who’s lost his fucking mind for a guy he became friends with on twitter, finally relaxes his shoulders and looks at Jeremy like he’s hung the moon. (Jean is going to murder Neil if he keeps staring at his boyfriend like that.)

Neil goes to the M&G with Minyard in Chicago. He pretends he’s not nervous, but he is. If the endless queue in front of the book shop is any indication, this won’t go down well.

And in fact it doesn’t.

It doesn’t because the fans recognize him, they start asking for selfies and autographs and all hell breaks loose. When Minyard finally appears he just glares at him, at the caos around him and tells him to fuck off. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jean welcomes him home with a bottle of vodka and Neil doesn’t drink, but he’s with Jean and Jean knows everything about him. He downs more than half a bottle before he finally passes out on the sofa.

Neil wakes up to the sound of his phone pinging and pinging and pinging. There’s phone calls, texts, more phone calls and hundreds, probably thousands of twitter notifications. Apparently, drunk Neil had tweeted “a mynyard s a douche” from his official account. Neil groans. Allison is gonna kill him.

Turns out that it’s Kevin Day who tries to kill him.

It goes like this.

When Neil had said that Kevin Day could punch him in the face and he’d thank him, he hadn’t meant it l i t e r a l l y.

And yet he’s at the Christmas gala with his team in South Carolina. He’d thought the 12-hour drive drom Chicago to Columbia would be the worst part of it. But apparently Kevin Day is set on changing his mind.

Neil doesn’t even get to say “Hi” to him before Kevin grabs the collar of his shirt and hoists him up against the wall. He almost chokes him. But it’s the words he utters that really do the thing. “Don’t you ever insult my brother again.”

It’s Nicky Hemmick, the Seakings’ physio, who picks him up off the floor as soon as Kevin leaves. “What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Neil asks while Nicky’s busy checking Kevin hasn’t seriously hurt him. “He’s just a protective asshole.” “But I don’t even know who’s his brother.” “Ever heard of A Minyard?”

And that fucker winks at him, he winks at him.

Neil tells himself that Nicky deserves it when he pushes him away and makes a run for Kevin. If he runs fast enough, he should be able to get to him before Kevin leaves the building. The problem is that, when he catches up to Kevin, he doesn’t even think twice before shouting “I didn’t know he was your brother, but in my defence he really is a douche.”

This time there’s nobody who can help him when Kevin punches him in the face and knocks him out. Sometimes Neil wishes he was born mute.

Things only escalate from that moment on.

Neil wakes up on a hospital bed, Minyard staring down at him. Maybe it’s the painkillers. It must be the painkillers. But he’s pretty sure he hears Minyard saying “if it wasn’t for Andrew, I would’ve left you to die and blamed Kevin,” before he blacks out again.

The second time he wakes up, he just thinks he’s still hallucinating (or maybe he’s dead?) because he sees double. There’s two Minyards staring down at him. He doesn’t even try to make sense of what he’s seeing, he just closes his eyes.

The third time he wakes up, he sees Kevin on his bedside and Neil tries to fake his own death. The ECG beating next to his bed betrays him, though. “I’ve been told I have to apologise if I don’t want a knife between my ribs.”

Kevin begins telling him that he is the adoptive brother of Drew, also known as Andrew Minyard. Who also happens to have a twin brother, Aaron Minyard, neurologist by day and fake-Andrew by night. Who didn’t really like the idea of anyone lying to his twin. That’s why he’d been rude to him in Chicago.

And would he please, please, talk with Andrew because he’s become insufferable since Neil had stopped texting him? He’s been threatening to kill Aaron at least twice as much as he used to.

“He even said that he’s miscalculated everything, you had a crush on me and didn’t like him at all -“ “Fuck’s sake NO, I wouldn’t touch your pompous ass with ten feet pole.”

And it’s at that point that Andrew barges into the hospital room telling Kevin to shut up. Looks Neil in the eyes, says “you just because of what you said to Kevin” and then he kisses him. He kisses him.

Years and years later, after some more pining, thousands of kisses and a key to an apartment in Chicago, Andrew would say that he had not done such a thing. But he had, oh he had.

Years and years later Andrew would also admit that the main character of the Tragic Waste of Skin saga was actually inspired by Neil. Apparently, he’d seen Neil’s face on one of Kevin’s sports mags, he’d read the transcript of the interview that had made a goalkeeper cry on tv and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

Years and years later Andrew would write the final book of his saga. The dedication would say: “To Neil, Marry me? Yes or no? Drew”

Years and years later Neil would tweet from his official account “a minyard’s still a douche”. Attached to the tweet a photo of Andrew glaring at the camera with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, a wedding ring on his finger.

[kar3npage]

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!

1.

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.

2.

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.

3.

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.

4.

“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. 

5.

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.

+1

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.

[senstia]

Any more andreil headcanons or fics you’re writing??

So i just wrote this and it makes my heart happy. Maybe you guys will enjoy it too?❤️

*please excuse any incorrect, grammar, punctuation, writing mistakes, ect.

Your Heart is Safe Now

Movie nights for the foxes had become a regular occurrence. Lately it had become harder to get them all in one room because of varying schedules and plans but they always made an effort to see each other.

Today everyone was gathered around the TV at the Columbia house, fighting over what movie to watch.

Neil and Andrew were sitting on the floor, thigh to thigh in front of the couch. Allison sat on the couch behind Neil, casually playing with his hair every once in a while. Renee was on her left and Aaron on her right. Kevin was on a loveseat with Nicky, looking thoroughly annoyed that he was forced to sit with him. Matt and Dan were cuddled up on another couch on their left.

“Disney movies are the best movies in the history of filmaking guys! We are required to watch Frozen 2,” Nicky exclaimed to the group.

Kevin groaned. “I already said we should watch Night at the Museum.”

“No offense Kev but none of us want to watch one of your boring history documentaries,” Aaron muttered.

“It’s a comedy!” Kevin shouted, exasperated.

“Neil what should we watch?” Allison asked, thumping on Neil’s head lightly.

“Why do you guys always ask Neil what to watch?” Aaron said, sounding disgusted.

“Because he’s everyone’s favorite fox, obviously!” Matt said.

Aaron just sighed and rolled his eyes. Neil’s cheeks flushed at the compliment and he wrung his hands in his lap. Andrew noticed this and untangled Neil’s hands and kissed his knuckles lightly. Neil looked at Andrew with such deep adoration in his eyes that Andrew felt himself shudder. He pulled his eyes from Neil’s to find equilibrium again and kept his gaze glued to the blank TV screen.

“I think we should watch Fight Club,” Renee said before Neil could reply. Renee rarely chose the movie so everyone went along with this and Nicky began to set up the TV.

Neil never really cared for watching movies, he just saw them as an excuse to stare at Andrew for an extended period of time. Sometimes Andrew commented on Neil’s staring and sometimes he didn’t. It seemed today he was too tired to care. About 10 minutes into the movie Andrew nudged at Neil’s shoulder. Neil looked at him and cocked his head to the side in question.

“Sleep,” Andrew said.

“You want to go up to bed?” Neil asked.

Andrew rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You can sleep on me if you want. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I hate you,” Andrew said. Then contradicted himself by stretching his body out and resting his head on Neil’s lap.

Neil adjusted Andrew’s blanket so that it still covered Andrew’s legs in his new position and then rested his head on the back of the couch to watch the movie. After a few minutes Andrew twisted to look at Neil and poked his hands, which were currently resting on the carpet on either side of his hips. Neil raised his brows at Andrew.

“Hair,” Andrew muttered.

Neil grinned and began sliding his hands through Andrew’s hair, giving him a scalp massage. Andrew sighed softly and before long Neil felt his breathing even out and he knew Andrew had fallen asleep.

Neil could revel in Andrew’s beauty forever. Even now, in a room surrounded by all the people he loved, perfectly safe, all he really wanted to do was drink in every detail of Andrew’s form. Andrew’s hair was perfectly mussed from Neil’s hands, his skin perfectly golden from the dying sunlight filtering in through the nearby window. Andrew’s eyelashes rested against his soft cheeks, fluttering every once in a while in sleep. Neil thought they looked like spun gold. He could feel the heat of Andrew’s skin seeping into him like honey, dragging him into a warm and sweet embrace. Neil could smell the scent that was so undeniably Andrew cocooning him in this moment. Andrew. Andrew. Andrew. Mind. Body. Soul. Neil wondered every day if his heartstrings would burst from it, the intensity of his love for Andrew. All these thoughts filtered in and out of Neil’s tired mind as he gazed at Andrew sleeping beneath him.

The foxes were now very used to watching Neil gush over Andrew. It never stopped surprising them though. Because sometimes Matt would catch Neil’s eyes soften as Andrew said something particularly grumpy, or Dan would see how Neil’s face flushed bright red whenever Andrew touched him even in the slightest. Renee saw more than the others. Not because she witnessed them more often but because she understood. Because Neil and Andrew had the most pure, undiluted form of love, born from trust, understanding and soul deep connection. Allison began to see it too, when she started looking deeper. Allison hadn’t known love like that even existed until she started to see the small glimpses of it that Andrew and Neil shared with the public. And right now she was seeing it again. And she thought that that, right there, is what every human craves. Why romance has been written about since the beginning of time; for the way Neil looked at Andrew. His eyes were shining, on the edge of tears. His face was soft and vulnerable as he looked at Andrew. Looked at Andrew like Andrew held the universe inside him. Like Neil was looking at every beautiful thing all at once and he was so overwhelmed by it he could barely breath; from the sunset after a thunderstorm, to a fresh field of flowers, to mountains and deserts and prairies and stars and planets. Neil looked at Andrew like all of that, all the unrestrained beauty of the universe, was nothing in comparison to the beauty that Neil saw in Andrew.

As the credits to the movie began to roll, Nicky flipped on the overhead light and the room was once again brightened. It seemed that none of the foxes were anywhere near being out of energy because they began chattering away and drinking and eating once the movie ended.

It was rare for Andrew to sleep through any type of noise but he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in a while and practice had hit him extra hard today. And maybe, just maybe, Neil’s promise of safety rang a little deeper than it usually did. Neil shushed the foxes as they talked, trying to get them to lower their volume so as not to wake Andrew.

And then something happened.

It was barely audible at first, a mixture between a moan and a groan escaped Andrew’s lips as he slept. Neil tensed. Andrew did it again, louder this time. Neil checked but Andrew was still deep in sleep. He glanced up, noticing the room had gone extra quiet. All the foxes looked to Andrew’s sleeping form.

“Neil,” Andrew said, the word sounding like a prayer.

“Neil,” he pleaded in his sleep again.

All of the foxes looked shellshocked, all transfixed to Andrew, curious about what would happen next. Andrew groaned again and nuzzled his head against Neil’s inner thigh, still fast asleep. Neil’s heart was racing. Andrew was saying his name. The thought of it made his skin goosebump and his pulse race. What was Andrew dreaming about?

“Neil,” he pleaded again. “I love you,” this came out as a whisper.

Neil’s jaw dropped. Andrew had only said that to him once before, and he had thought Neil was asleep at the time. They both knew they loved each other, saying it was never necessary, but hearing Andrew say it while in his most vulnerable state sent a shock through Neil’s system.

The foxes all knew that Neil was happy and knew there was a different gravity to his relationship with Andrew that none of them would ever understand, but hearing those words come from Andrew was like an epiphany. Andrew was never soft, none of the foxes understood the lens that Neil saw Andrew through, but in this moment they could all see it clearly. The love. Because Neil had a tear streaming down his cheek. And Andrew was whispering “I love you Neil, don’t leave me” in his sleep, over and over, like a prayer, a confession.

Andrew stopped talking and began to stir. All the foxes were still frozen, staring at him. Neil had tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked down at Andrew. Andrew nuzzled against Neil’s thigh again, still half asleep. Then he sighed deeply and blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the light. Andrew twisted to look at Neil. Andrew frowned at the sight.

“You’re crying,” Andrew said. Neil just shook his head, smiling.

Andrew remembered his dream suddenly. Neil was there. Neil was always there. In the dream, Neil was vowing to Andrew, promising he’d never leave. Dream Andrew was scared, what if Neil left someday? Neil promised over and over in the dream. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I will never leave you. Ever. Ever. Not even in death.” Andrew hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear those words until he heard them in his dream. Until he realized that he wanted to say them to Neil, over and over, until they both forgot about their pasts, until the only things they could remember anymore were thoughts of each other. Until everything but the feel of Neil’s skin and the sound of Neil’s voice, faded away. He knew Neil loved him, and would never leave him. He knew he felt the same way. He had never felt any need for a verbal confirmation until now.

“Neil?” Andrew said, sitting up so that he could face Neil fully.

“Yeah?” Neil asked softly.

“I-I love you,” Andrew said, barely a whisper. Neil had never heard Andrew stutter before. Not once. Andrew’s hazel eyes were wide and vulnerable as they looked up at Neil.

Neil stroked Andrew’s hair, cupped Andrew’s cheek in his hand. “I love you. Always.”

Andrew’s entire body relaxed at the words. His hands shook as he lifted them to Neil’s face. Neil had never seen Andrew shake from anything but anger before.

“I had a dream,” Andrew said as he softly stroked his fingertips against Neil’s scars.

“What did you dream of?” Neil asked, knowing Andrew wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t comfortable talking about it openly.

Andrew knew they had an audience. He knew all the foxes were frozen, watching this scene unfold. He didn’t care. His brain was flooded with thoughts of Neil. There wasn’t room to care about anything else.

“You. Always you.”

Neil smiled. Andrew’s sleeping words told Neil what he needed to know, gave him an idea of what Andrew wanted to hear. So Neil said the words he knew deep in his bones were true. The words that Andrew had whispered in sleep. The truth, blinding and clear between them.

“I will never leave you, even in death. I love you, forever,” Neil said, his eyes locked on Andrew’s. Making sure Andrew heard the raw truth in his words.

Andrew wasn’t surprised Neil had known exactly what was in his soul. Neil had always been able to see through every defense Andrew had ever had. The thought now comforted Andrew, somehow.

Andrew no longer wanted an audience. He wanted to have Neil all to himself, skin to skin, soul to soul. Neil saw these thoughts spark in Andrew’s eyes.

“Yes or no?” Neil asked, splaying his arms to Andrew. Andrew just nodded and let Neil wrap him in his arms and lift him from the ground. Neil didn’t spare a glance at any of the foxes as he walked past them and carried Andrew up to their bedroom. Andrew kept his eyes glued on Neil the whole way upstairs.

The foxes all stared at the now empty staircase for a moment. All of them shocked into silence. That level of undiluted, raw emotion was something they were never likely to see again from Neil or Andrew. The intensity of it struck them all stupid.

Aaron snapped out of it first of course. He just groaned, rolled his eyes and said, “They’re gay, woohoo,” and then padded out of the living room and up to bed.

Aaron tried to ignore the feeling of his heart ballooning in his chest. Happiness. Andrew was loved, in a deeper way than Aaron could ever understand. Andrew would never be alone, never be hurt again, not with Neil by his side. The thought settled something deep in Aaron’s soul. He decided he’d have to stop hating Neil now.

Renee coughed softly and this snapped the rest of the foxes out of their silence. Kevin, Matt and Dan all muttered their goodnights and went up to their beds, leaving only Renee, Allison and Nicky in the living room.

“That was...” Nicky said, sounding breathless and uncertain.

“Yeah,” Allison sighed, a hint of longing in her voice.

Renee smiled softly, took Allison’s hand and squeezed. The three of them then quietly made their way to their separate beds.

Neil and Andrew stayed intertwined long into the night. Conveying their love through soft touches and shuddered breaths. When sleep finally took them both, they stayed wrapped in each other and slept dreamlessly all through the night.