#exie’s teeth of god experience

[excelsior9173]

posting this one separate because i think it turned out really cool accidentally!

[imperfectcourt]

Just closed eyes with nothing behind

4.4k Andreil

Neil has a bad day

[AO3]

“There you are.”

He didn’t know he wanted to be found until Nicky peaked into the court lounge. He didn’t know he wanted Nicky to the the one to find him until his jaw started to tremble with relief.

“Hey,” was all Nicky said as he lowered himself to sit next to Neil on the floor behind the couch. “Renee told me what Allison said.”

Ah, so that explained why he’d been looking for Neil in the first place. Neil’s hands tightened around the tube of paper in his hands. It was soft and pliable, almost cloth-like from how many times it had been rolled and folded and flattened. “It’s fine,” he said. “You didn’t have to come look for me.”

“Yes, I did,” Nicky countered.

Neil let out a shaky sigh and wished that Allison’s words were all that had gotten to him. That it wasn’t issue upon issue on a bad day. That Andrew hadn’t been a part of it. That there hadn’t been a one-two punch and a sickening realization.

“That’s not a real word, sweety.” One. “It explains how I feel. My feelings- my relationship with Andrew…” “What relationship.” Two

Issues on issues on a bad day. Neil didn’t cry with tears anymore but the rest of his body remembered the motions of wringing him like a towel- chest squeezing, jaw shaking, arms stiff. He twisted his hands around the rolled paper. It was so mangled it no longer even crinkled.

After a few moments of silence, Nicky slowly, slowly reached over and took the paper. Neil let him and didn’t understand why. It was a private, personal thing.

Maybe that was why.

1. Neil Abram Josten 2. Fox 3. Exy player 4. Aubor Aubar Aborn Brown Red Reddish brown hair 5. Boyfriend 6. Math major 7. Demisexual

Nicky looked at the paper for a long time and Neil looked up at the pictures tacked to the wall. Time and growth stopped Nicky from smothering Neil but it was still Nicky and his face betrayed every emotion. His brows wrinkled, his eyes squinted and then widened. His face went slack and then smoothed over and that was a new one to see.

“There’s a lot to unpack here,” he finally said, voice quiet and soothing. Neil felt his face go hot.

“Alright, Bee,” he said, aiming for biting and failing. Nicky didn’t look offended, just blank. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“The first thing I want you to know is that your sexuality is real and nobody gets to tell you that it’s not or that you’re not or that it’s wrong. It’s really important to me that you know that.” He turned his head to meet Neil’s eyes for the first time. Neil only nodded because he didn’t know what else to do. It didn’t feel appropriate to tell Nicky that that made it worse and he’d been trying to be more appropriate after too many awkward silences at team dinners and movie nights.

Nicky nodded back. “I’ll be honest, though- I don’t really know exactly what the word means. Could you tell me?”

The way Nicky was speaking was so unlike himself. He was measured and scripted and Neil wondered if he heard these things in Germany or Reddin. Neil didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to say it again and be told it wasn’t real (Nicky would never…) and he didn’t want to face the reality of his situation. He wanted to sit behind the couch and look at the faces of the foxes frozen in time. And he did, for a little while. Nicky did, too. Patient. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight.

“It, uh, it means that I only experience sexual attraction after I’ve developed a strong emotional connection with someone.”

It felt like a confession. Part of him wanted to elaborate and make this connection with Nicky, but then he started to think about Andrew and his cheeks hurt and his hands clenched. It seemed to be enough for Nicky, who bumped their shoulders together.

“Thanks for sharing that with me. And not that anyone’s opinion on it matters, but I think that sounds exactly right for you.”

“Your opinion matters,” Neil said. His throat felt tight around the words, started to hurt. They sat in silence again as Neil tried to control his breathing. Eventually, Nicky’s thumb rubbed over the crossed off number 5 on the crinkled list. He braced himself.

“Something else happened,” Nicky guessed. “Allison makes catty comments all the time. Something she said wouldn’t make you feel like this.”

Neil didn’t ask how Nicky knew what he was feeling because he was right.

“Andrew said something.” It wasn’t a question because Nicky didn’t have to ask. Neil shook his head at himself and wiped at his dry cheeks as if he actually shed tears.

“He wasn’t wrong. It’s my fault for not listening when he said we weren’t a this.” He hated what he was feeling. He hated that he was feeling and all the complicated implications that followed along. He hated that it hurt and why it hurt and he hated himself for not being able to suppress these emotions anymore. That was one thing about being real that he didn’t need. Without the distraction of running and fighting for his life, emotions were something he felt much more often and- worse yet- more strongly.

“What? Why on Earth would Andrew say you’re not together?” Nicky momentarily forgot the calm demeanor he’d been trying to present and gave Neil a bewildered look. Neil felt his lip curl over his teeth.

“Because we’re not. He’s always said we weren’t a this. You need two people who want to be in a relationship to actually have one and it’s always just been me and I wasn’t supposed to do this. Mom was right-”

He stopped. He brought up his knees and dug his fingertips into the sides of his mouth to keep his lips from pulling into an anguished snarl. He felt raw and ugly with vulnerability- consumed with both the desire to keep himself secret and safe and the desperation to be known.

Everyone always got twice as interested and equally up in arms when he mentioned his mother. This time was no different. Nicky was putting in a valiant effort to be a presence Neil would allow close. He didn’t go in for a hug but his body betrayed his desire to. Neil was grateful that he didn’t. Hew as feeling too much and his skin felt over sensitive like a fever, like every hair on his body was raised.

Issues on issues. Layers of problems and a broken psyche and a racing mind that was puzzling together the memory of February in a picture that suited it’s anxious needs. Was it Allison’s comment or Nicky’s assurance? Was it Andrew’s dismissal of his feelings or was it the betrayal his feelings indicated? Was it his mother’s hands ripping out his hair or the fear that she’d been right?

His body seized again, desperate to squeeze something out of him. Tears would have been best but instead it was air. He gasped and choked and held his breath in a vain attempt to hold himself together.

“I’m just having a really bad day,” he choked out, to reassure either himself or Nicky that this would all pass eventually. Nicky didn’t hug him but he did put a hand on Neil’s knee. He was less sure of himself but next to Neil’s breakdown he was the epitome of composed.

“I- I think you really need to get all this out, Neil. Do you want me to call Bee?”

“No.”

“I could call Andrew, he’s hom-”

Neil let out a broken noise to cut off that idea. That small part of him desperate to be known recognized that he did want to talk. But he didn’t trust Betsy around him and he didn’t trust himself around Andrew.

“I was- I was so excited to have this word for my list because I knew there must be one- I couldn’t be the only person like this. And it hurt when Allison said it was fake because it was like she was saying I was fake. And… and then Andrew- it wasn’t the first time he’d said that. It’s my own fault for not remembering and then- and then I realized that Andrew probably only agreed to what we do because there were no feelings and he’s always said- but if I can only do… what we do after I have feelings then that means I’ve been lying- I’ve been tricking him. We’ve- we’ve done- and I- I realized I can’t win. Either Allison was right and I’m back to square one of being a nothing or she’s wrong and I’ve been tricking Andrew and lying to him this whole time. And mom always said that feelings and relationships were bad and dangerous and it hurts so much because I think she was right.”

Neil inhaled, long and shaking and deep. His face was hot and he felt just as embarrassed as he did relieved to take this- this box and put it outside of himself for someone else to rifle through. Then a new wave of fear hit him because Nicky was Andrew’s family and he’d just admitted to something terrible. He whipped his head to stare at Nicky, eyes wide and burning and finally, finally close to tears. He didn’t understand the expression he was facing.

“Nick, I- I never meant- I’m so- I promise I- I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Nicky said fiercely. Neil seized up in fear even as Nicky gave in and gathered him up in his arms. “I am so sorry you’re going through this, Neil. Nobody deserves that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I lied to Andrew so that we could be together,” he moaned into Nicky’s shoulder.

“I trust Andrew enough to never allow himself to be taken advantage of ever again. You might have said no feelings back in February but given that you were going to die and were completely oblivious, I don’t think Andrew has been under any assumption that what you to have now is anything but real and honest. And don’t forget that I’ve looked after them since high school. I see how he is with you, how he looks at you.”

“Don’t say that.”

Would it be worse? If Andrew returned his feelings and still said they were nothing? He didn’t know. He was too fried. Finally, finally, numbness began to take over. He bundled all of his emotions up and tucked them neatly back into the box. Sharing had made it lighter. Maybe there was something to it after all. Catharsis, his mind supplied. God, he was exhausted. That, at least, was an easy thing to hide. He pulled away from Nicky’s embrace and cleared his throat.

“Thanks for listening, Nicky. I’m gonna head out.”

“Neil-”

Neil didn’t give him the chance. He shot to his feet, pretended his vision didn’t white out, and strode out of the lounge with another thanks thrown over his shoulder. Down the hall, out the side door. His eyes felt puffy and itchy. Must be a ragweed allergy or something.

He made it to the roof of Fox Tower after a circuitous route around campus. He could recall every step of the way but he had no idea how long he sat up there. The sun was only just starting to set but it wasn’t a great time marker considering he didn’t know when he’d left the court. He still felt drained, physically as well as mentally. Was that normal? Why would people willingly allow themselves to go through things like that?

The quiet was nice. Helpful. Of course, that meant it couldn’t last. He heard raised voices from an open window below and was annoyed until he realized it was just one voice. One familiar voice. One voice loud enough to be articulate and two voices too low, only loud enough to be indistinct murmurs.

“-and you will sit your butts there until I’m through with you.”

It sounded like Nicky was scolding a child. Neil privately hoped it was Aaron for the amusement of it.

“-should be ashamed… high order for people like… how fucking… Neil was…”

Hold up. That was his name. Neil sat forward to listen to more actively. He could guess what was happening and the embarrassment was burning.

“-obviously…I don’t care… And if you can’t do that… Now…. misery, because he’s really fucking...”

Murmur, murmur

“Don’t even get me started… where do you get off telling someone… can’t even admit you want to date Renee… last person to make those decisions…”

Murmur murmur

Slam

Murmur

Murmur

Neil jolted a little when he realized how far over he’d been leaning as he tried to hear what else was being said. Pathetic. He already knew everything that could be said, there was no use eavesdropping. Nicky might feel like he occasionally had some sort of authority over the twins but it was all just an act on both sides. He would front at parenting and sometimes Andrew would let him. It was how the expressed affection. Some might call it the bare minimum, Neil thought it was nice.

The sky started to turn orange and then bright pink and then dark purple. He liked it. It was peaceful and quiet just like he was feeling now. His thoughts and memories seemed clearer but he pushed those aside and took a deep breath and held it as he imagined taping up boxes and setting them up in piles in an attic. Tomorrow was Saturday. Practice in the morning. Practice in the afternoon. There was an Exy game next Friday against a team with a strong defensive line.

“I can tell by your face that you’re thinking about Exy. It’s nauseating.”

Neil was surprised but his body didn’t react so he pretended that he’d heard Andrew coming. He stared straight ahead as the trees became silhouettes against the darkening sky and bugs started swarming around the street lamps. Andrew sat next to him, lit up a cigarette, and joined in the silence.

When the sky was fully dark and the stars were trying to come out, Andrew pulled out a piece of paper that had been folded twice into a square. Neil didn’t need to look closely to know what it was. Embarrassment and anxiety flared up inside of him but he quickly boxed it up with everything else.

“Did you read it?” He asked as he reached over and took the list, careful not to touch.

“Nicky told me what it was.”

Nicky needs to mind his own business, he thought and then immediately felt guilty- Nicky had been exactly who Neil had needed early. Then, he felt frustrated for feeling guilty. Then he felt nothing. Neil picked up the lighter Andrew had placed between them and lit the corner of the paper. It took longer than it should, the paper soft and coated from all the constant handling. When it caught, he held it until the last possible second. It felt appropriate. It felt like California. It felt like nothingness. He was nothing again. They were nothing.

“Care to explain your disappearing act and why Nicky thought it was his job to chew me out for it?”

No, he didn’t actually. He was finally feeling clear-headed and was able to see how some of his thoughts hadn’t been logical and he didn’t want to start opening the boxes and go through it all again. Because not everything had been illogical and justified or not, he didn’t want any part of it anymore.

“I was just having a bad day,” he explained away, hoping it was a good enough answer. And might have gotten away with it if Andrew didn’t have a small pile of black ash between them to prod at.

“Burning yourself up is an awfully rabbit thing to do for just a bad day.”

“The list wasn’t me. It was stupid. I had a bad day and now it’s fine.” Drop it he almost said. (He didn’t know why he stopped himself short.)

“A bad day doesn’t send you crying in a corner instead of the court.”

He hadn’t cried, Neil wanted to say but he felt doing so would come across as defensive. Instead, he snapped, “I said it’s fine,” and willed himself not to start shaking again.

“Just because your new thing is saying it’s instead of I’m doesn’t make you any less of a liar.”

A liar. A runner. A fool. A nothing. The boxes were cracking open and Neil tried desperately to tape them back up. He felt his breath speed up without his permission and couldn’t will it to slow back down.

“Why are you pushing,” he ground out, because Andrew was an instigator, not a pusher. He stopped when he was told and- Neil realized a second too late that he hadn’t actually said no or stop or don’t.

“Why are you avoiding the question?”

“I’m not. I had a bad day, okay? Is that allowed? Do I need your fucking permission or something?” It was happening again. His cheeks hurt and his throat was closing. His fists shook so he shoved them under his thighs. He closed his eyes and looked for a bigger, stronger box. He couldn’t find one.

“A bad day is a stubbed toe not a nervous breakdown.”

“Shut up,” Neil finally burst loudly. “What do you want from me?” He kept his eyes closed, squeezed shut like blindness could encompass more than just his sight.

“I want the truth.”

“I gave it to you.”

“You gave me a flimsy excuse.”

“Don’t ask for the truth if you’re just going to dilute it.”

Opening his eyes wasn’t necessary to know that Andrew recalled those words. It was probably unfair of him to try and derail the conversation with that memory but he didn’t care. It gave him a moment of peace to try and get himself back under control. He counted to measure his breaths and focused on the sensation of the cool fall air in his nose and the smell of the browning leaves and the brush of the breeze in his hair. Five seconds in, hold for three, five seconds out. Thirteen second cycles. Twelve breaths. Two minutes and thirty six seconds before Andrew took the thirteenth breath with him and spoke again.

“Trying to convince yourself something is the truth does not make it so,” he said in a soft, even tone. It was only the contrast that made Neil realize the bite and frustration of before. He’d been so caught up in himself that he’d missed it.

“You seem to already know this truth you’re looking for so why don’t you tell me since I’m apparently too stupid to figure it out on my own.”

Andrew’s frustrated sigh was barely audible over the ruffling leaves and passing pedestrians. “Look at me.” Neil kept his eyes closed. “Neil. Look at me.” Neil kept his eyes closed. The concrete was hurting his knuckles. “You don’t need to have a bad day to excuse your feelings. You’re allowed to just have them.”

“What feelings.” A split second, he heard his own tone echoing from hours ago. What relationship.

“I don’t know because you won’t fucking tell me.”

“God, you’re being so fucking annoying, Andrew.” Annoyance was easy and so was talking as long as he kept his eyes shut. “What do you want to hear? That I feel like shit? That I’ve been sleeping with a dumb list under my pillow trying to figure out who I fucking am? That I’m either nothing or a lying asshole who can’t spell auburn? That I’ve been trying all day to stop feeling like this and it was working-”

“You can’t stop yourself from feeling.”

Oh, that was rich coming from Andrew. “Why not?” he bit out.

“Because you’re not a sociopath.”

“Neither are you.”

Andrew’s entire person was focused on feeling and wanting nothing. He didn’t have monopoly over numbness and Neil didn’t understand why Andrew was trying so hard to force this.

That was a lie. Yes he did. He just didn’t want to because letting it happen meant the hurt would continue.

“You’re allowed to feel like shit,” Andrew said.

“Thanks for your permission.”

“Why do you feel like shit?”

“Because I’m having a bad day.”

“Dammit, Neil,” Andrew growled out. Neil felt his lip curl into a snarl. He squeezed his eyes tighter.

“What the fuck do you think a bad day is? I woke up feeling like shit and then shit things happened and I felt like worse shit. I’d say that’s a bad day. Sorry it’s not up to your standards of what counts but hey, I wasn’t stabbed or tortured so I can’t complain, I guess.”

“What shit things happened,” Andrew pressed.

“Shit like I woke up sad. Shit like people important to me telling me that things that are important to me aren’t real. Shit like my scars hurt. Shit like my mom being right. Shit like I don’t know what about me is real because it’s all lies and fire. Shit like I can’t- I can’t stop.”

His breathing was speeding up again. His throat hurt. His hands under his thighs hurt.

“Open your eyes, Neil.”

“No.”

“Why not.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not.”

“Because I think I might do something bad if I do.”

“You won’t do anything bad.”

“Yes I will.”

A huff. “What you will do when you open your eyes will not be a bad thing,” Andrew rephrased. Neil’s jaw trembled and he couldn’t say anything past the tightness of his throat. He opened his eyes.

“Neil. Look at me,” Andrew said for the second time that night. Neil turned his head and looked but didn’t see. His vision was watery and distorted as tears gathered and fell. Andrew didn’t reach out to brush them away but he did tug one of Neil’s hands free and massaged the memory of concrete out of the scars on his shaking knuckles. It felt like a bad thing to cry and then it didn’t.

They were silent for a while as Neil cried and Andrew held his hand. Eventually, Andrew pulled out a blank piece of paper and a pen from his back pocket. He used his thigh as a table to write Neil Abram Josten at the top and then a 1 beneath it.

“Shouldn’t that be number one?” Neil asked.

“Your name is just a handful of letters you picked out of a magazine at a Wawa- it has nothing to do with who you actually are.”

“I don’t know what else there is.”

His vision has cleared enough that Neil could see the ring of gold around Andrew’s eyes this close.

“There’s enough,” Andrew said and it almost sounded like a confession. Next to the 1 he wrote Fox.

“You said you didn’t read it,” Neil accused.

“I didn’t say that,” Andrew replied and wrote 2. Top Exy Player.

“You think I’m one of the best Exy players?” Neil asked because he had to.

“It doesn’t say that.”

“…you think I’m a top?” Neil asked because he had to. Andrew’s mouth twitched and it was the lightest Neil had felt all day.

Andrew wrote a number 3 but didn’t put his hair color, the same way he hadn’t counted his name.

“It gets hard,” Neil offered. “I tried to think of how I am and I couldn’t think of anything. What about… what do you think- I don’t know, my most defining character traits? I’m really fast, too. And don’t forget math.”

“Being a math nerd isn’t a character trait, it’s a flaw,” Andrew snarked and wrote Hothead, Loudmouth, Instigator. Neil snorted and sniffled.

“Tell me how you really feel,” he joked. “What about my best traits?” Maybe he was fishing but a compliment wouldn’t make him feel worse.

“Those are your best traits.”

“They sound like annoyances.”

“They are.”

“You like them.” Neil teased.

“They are literally the only reason we’re dating.”

He said it so straightforward, so blandly, like he had no idea the turmoil he’d just sent Neil into. He kept going on to write 4. Boyfriend, 5. Math NERD, 6. Demisexual. Neils entire body was tensing back up.

“You can’t write that,” he said. Andrew wrote 7 but didn’t fill it in.

“Allison doesn’t get to decide that for you,” he replied like he really had no idea.

“No you can’t- number four.” Andrew’s eyes shot up to his, blanker than ever. “That- you can’t say that just because I- it doesn’t work if it’s just one sided. That’s not…”

Andrew stared at Neil for what felt like a very long time and for the first time in months, Neil had no idea what he was thinking. Then, he raised the pen back up to number 4 and Neil couldn’t breathe when his heart clenched at the thought of Andrew crossing that word out.

But then he underlined it.

4. Boyfriend

Logically, Neil understood, but he was not having a very logical day.

“I have feelings for you,” he said dumbly.

“Yeah,” Andrew replied in a tone that supported that idiocy.

“But you said…”

“Forget what I said.”

“You won’t.”

“No. I won’t. So forget it enough for the both of us. Number seven, dumbass. Number eight, pain in the ass.” He wasn’t writing any of this. “Number nine…”

“Two in a row. Something on your mind? Maybe we should put that down as my best feature.” Neil teased because he could. He didn’t feel 100% but the reassurance was beginning to settle his blood pressure. Andrew wrote Fucker next to the 7 and Neil almost laughed as he made a grab for the pen. Andrew held it up and away at an angle Neil could easily reach if he pressed against Andrew’s side. As he moved in for it, Andrew snaked his free arm around Neil’s waist and tugged.

“I have them, too,” Andrew said.

“Yeah,” Neil replied.

He felt better but only by comparison. He still felt sad and his scars still hurt but he tucked his face into Andrew’s neck and breathed without counting.

[jemej3m]

What now? (p3)

where they finally establish a routine.

Neil watched with forcefully detached disdain as Robin showed Kevin the ropes of Exy: His reluctance grew as he watched Kevin catch on straight away. Then he realised that:

a) Kevin was an incredibly quick learner, and

b) Kevin was thoroughly enjoying himself.

That meant he was most likely going to join the team. Neil stood behind the plexiglass and waited with his fingers strung together behind his head, waiting for the kids to scramble off court for a break.

He didn’t truly have anything against Kevin. It was just the idea of being forced to encounter Andrew Minyard multiple times a week and consequently being driven up the wall.

Some of the kids’ parents were hellish to deal with, yes. But none blatantly voiced their dislike of Neil, or looked at him like he’d be fun to run over.

It was between seasons: He usually did team reviews so that new kids could try out and get onto the waiting lists for the fall season next September: Then he’d form a team of those new-comers to practise together throughout the spring season, occasionally versing his league teams as practise. Right now, he was watching a bunch of kids scrimmage and cause an absolute ruckus of themselves: He always let them have a free-for-all at the end of tryouts, to work off the stress and anxiety that being tested always granted.

Parents were no longer watching avidly in the stands, instead, mingling with one another.

Neil bashed his fist against the plexiglass, waving them off the court. They filed off sullenly, packing up their things and saying goodbye to one another as they sipped on water bottles and snacked on fruits and granola bars.

Robin sidled up to him, smiling through her exhaustion. “So?”

“What.” He said, flatly.

“Can he join?” She pointed to Kevin. “He’s very good. He’s going to be better than me. Because he’s taller. I think.” She frowned.

He frowned. “He can join, if he’d like to.”

“My team?” She bounced excitedly.

He looked at her with veiled exasperation. No, he’d say for the millionth time. Teams were divided up into ages, but Robin was in 1sts, and Kevin would be placed into the newcomer’s team for the next fall season.

“Kevin! Kevin! Neil says you can join.” Robin waved the young boy over, who was aimlessly pushing hair out of his eyes as he untied his shoes. He looked up, sheepish, as he shuffled over. He’d be taller than Neil in the next few years. That wasn’t surprising: Most kids in Neil’s older teams were taller than him.

“I’d like to.” Kevin said. “But I don’t think Dad will let me.”

Neil frowned. “Why?”

“He doesn’t like you.” Kevin pouted. “Because apparently you’re an idiot.”

Neil glowered. “Is he picking you up tonight, Kevin?”

Kevin nodded.

That’s how Neil found himself marching over to Andrew Minyard’s sleek, black sport’s car, rapping harshly on the tinted glass with Kevin cowering a few feet away, and an angry little Robin at Neil’s elbow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” The sarcastic drawl of Andrew’s voice made the hair at the back Neil’s neck stand. He felt his fingers curl against the smooth leather, hoping that his fingers scratched the stupid car and left some sort of mark on the arrogant bastard’s materialistic pride and joy.

“Whatever problem you have with me,” Neil snapped. “It’s entirely unjust to not let Kevin join the activity he wants to because of it. Grow up, pull your head out of your ass, and think about what’s the best for your child.”

Andrew gazed at him coldly and said nothing. Kevin scrambled into his father’s car, curled into the corner furthest from Neil, behind his dad.

Neil stood back, letting Andrew wind up the window. He watched as the car left.

“Will he let Kevin join the team?” Robin worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. Neil took her tiny hand in his own.

“I don’t know, Robin.” He said truthfully.

It had Andrew frothing with anger. How dare he tell Andrew what was best for his own damned kid. Like he was a better parent than Andrew, like he had more experience, like he wasn’t just as fucked up and terrified of making his own kid’s childhood hellish and continuing the cycle of abuse.

Andrew had never forbade Kevin from playing exy in the first place!

Asshole. Fuck him. Fuck him!

“Andrew, seriously. Just fuck him.” Nicky examined his nails, tutting at how he’d already chipped his manicure. “Your anger is clearly just pent-up sexual tension. When was the last time you had sex?”

“Gross.” Aaron complained through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Fuck you.” Andrew grumbled, sinking lower into his chair. It was Tuesday night, Family night, where Aaron left his white-picket-fence and perfect wife, and Nicky spent his night off. They usually did it at Nicky’s apartment, but he was in the middle of packing up to move into his boyfriend’s apartment.

Kevin was fast-asleep upstairs, having worn himself out playing that stupid sport. It might be good for him to join a team sport, Andrew considered. It would also mean he’d go to sleep easier, if he was tired. There was nothing stopping him from joining the team, except maybe Andrew had made his opinion of Neil Josten too obvious, and then Kevin had gone talking, and now he had Neil-Too-Hot-For-His-Own-Fucking-Good-Josten barking up his ass about parenting.

Fucking hell.

“He does sound like a massive asshole, though.” Nicky winked at him. “Though I’m not the one attracted to smart-mouths.”

“Fuck off, Nicky.”

“I’m trying to watch the game, here.” Aaron said, only mildly irritated. “Nicky, shut your damned mouth. Andrew, stop being such a hypocrite. Kevin, are you okay?”

Andrew shot up to look at his son, who had covertly snuck down the stairs from his room. He had a small fox plushie in his arms, his hair a wild mess. Andrew would need to cut it again soon.

“Sorry, Dad.” He curled his shoulders in. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Andrew stood immediately, ignoring Nicky as he stage whispered “God, I still can’t get over how cute that is.” He took Kevin into the kitchen and sat him on a barstool, getting cocoa out of the cupboard and milk from the fridge. Luckily, Kevin liked no sugar in his, so it wouldn’t keep him up any longer than necessary.

“Nightmare?”

Kevin shook his head.

Andrew leaned onto the counter opposite him. “Kevin, is this about Robin Josten’s father?”

“Why don’t you like him?” Kevin burst out. “I really want to play exy, and I know that there are other teams than Robin’s team, but I liked playing with Robin, and there are other kids from school on the team, but you don’t like him, so -”

“Kevin.” Andrew said, calmly. “You can join Robin’s team. I would never stop you from doing so. It’s the most localised team anyway, and they’re very good.”

“But why don’t you like Coach Josten?” Coach Josten, oh my god. Andrew had a sudden, inappropriate mental image of Neil Josten in small running shorts and a low-cut tank top. Jesus Christ.

“When you and Robin were fighting at school, her father and I weren’t very friendly to one another.” Andrew put his entwined hands under his chin. “I just wanted to protect you from someone who was being mean to you. But if you and Robin are friends, I’ll try and get along with her father for you.”

Kevin sipped on his hot cocoa. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Andrew stood up. “Okay. Good. Did Robin’s father say how to apply for the team?”

“His name is Neil.” Kevin supplied, unhelpfully.

“Right.” Andrew said, drily. “Fantastic.”

So much for avoiding the fucker.

The South Carolina Exy League, who had ordained Neil as the Exy junior’s coach, owned Columbia’s court and had provided him with a small office on the second floor of the facility. It was a really nice court, which was well-kept, the expenditures mostly from the adult’s league. Neil’s office was just as well-kept, though that was out of his own pocket. It meant the funds for the kids’ teams could be kept to the minimum, so he didn’t mind.

Usually people knocked at his door when it was closed, so when the door banged open, Neil was already expecting the worst.

Andrew threw the application papers onto Neil’s desk. The suit blazer was tight across broad shoulders, and everything about him screamed expensive, down to the shine of his shoes. He must have presented in court.

“Fuck my son around and I’ll kill you.” Andrew warned. “Don’t tell me how to fucking parent, either.”

Neil huffed. “Fabulous impression that you’re giving off here.”

He pointed at Neil. “Don’t test me.” The door slammed behind him.

Well. That was that.

lmao what a mess

[exyjunkies]

how the light gets in

Written for Andreil Week, day 5: stadium lights | read on ao3

→ In which Neil thinks it’s a good idea to come back. Andrew agrees – after all, it’s not as if he’d be going back alone.

“You know, in all the years I was here, I never actually did this before.”

Andrew hummed, letting himself listen to the wistfulness in Neil’s voice.

“That’s because you were too busy playing until your tiny junkie heart was close to giving out.”

He felt Neil squeeze his hand lightly, acknowledging the tease. On a blanket that Andrew had the foresight to bring, they were lying down in the center of Palmetto’s Exy court, staring up at the bleachers, at the plexiglass walls and ceiling. Every stadium light was on, showcasing the full orange-and-white of the court.

Andrew had been iffy about the idea of lying down in the middle of a court they used to play on, but now, he didn’t mind it one bit.

It was Neil’s sudden burst of nostalgia that sprung this into an idea – with the both of them in the US Court, they barely had any time for anything but the present. No going back on old memories, no planning for the future. There were many demands that came with playing for the national Exy team, so they vowed to spend this vacation not focusing on these demands.

(Most of which, Andrew had to admit, were not his cup of tea. After years of being on the national team, he can (kind of, sort of, to some extent) admit that being a goalkeeper is a lot more bearable than before, but he did not live for the celebrity lifestyle. Neil, of course, thrived on being able to play Exy and that alone. So on some level, they both did not care for the fame.)

Their head coach had allowed them to take a few weeks off and go back to Palmetto State with the promise that they take a few pictures and post it on their social media accounts for good PR. He had specific instructions for Andrew to post at least something, simply because his being inactive wasn’t going to stick as his reputation forever. Their PR manager, Alex, had been flooding their phones this morning, despite Andrew’s warning that annoyance will not be tolerated. Neil, thankfully, had put a stop to this by posting a picture of Andrew out on the balcony of the Columbia house.

As expected, their fans had received the photo with gusto, with some famous Exy players from other countries wishing them well, along with a few comments pouring in from the other Foxes themselves. Andrew hadn’t asked to be tagged in the photo, because he had decided a long time ago that notifications were annoying. Still, it wasn’t avoided that Neil showed him all the ones he thought he’d find amusing. Of all the feedback, the only one Neil replied to was Aaron’s thumbs up emoji – he had typed in a “hopefully u still recognize him when we get back” and hit send, ruffling Andrew’s hair lightly after he did so.

Now, Andrew turned his head a bit to stare at Neil, blinking a few times to check if he was dreaming. The striker had an awestruck look on his face, as if he was seeing the Foxhole Court’s lights for the first time. Realizing he never got to see Neil’s actual first reaction to seeing PSU’s court for the first time, Andrew quietly observed the softness of Neil’s smile, the way his other hand was pillowed under his soft auburn hair, the calmness in his breathing, the movement of Neil’s thumb up and down his forefinger as they held hands.

“Staring.”

Rolling his eyes, Andrew turned his head back to the lights. He did his best to channel the blush on his face back to the bottom of his system.

“Oh, shut up.”

Beside him, Neil laughed, a genuine one, full of life and promise, and Andrew felt his heart skip a beat. Hearing Neil laugh, like really actually laugh was the breath of fresh air he needed all along. All these past weeks, Neil had been missing something, and Andrew heard it in that laugh. That stability. That contentment. That happiness.

Then, Andrew felt Neil remove his hand from his. He frowned a little at the disappointment that he felt well up inside of him. Neil propped himself up beside Andrew, a questioning look on his face.

“Yes or no?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. He put an arm under his head to prop himself up a bit and shoot Neil a look. “Really? Here?”

Neil rolled his eyes, the smile not leaving his face. He poked a finger into Andrew’s hip. “Dummy. Just answer the damn question.”

“God. Fine. Yes.”

Shifting nearer to Andrew, Neil wrapped an arm around Andrew’s torso and nuzzled his neck. He lifted a leg and put it over Andrew’s legs.

Into Andrew’s neck, Neil murmured, “Mmm. Better. Not quite what you were expecting, huh? You horndog.”

Andrew scoffed at the implication. Still, he moved his other arm up and over Neil, prompting the taller man to move closer. Instinctively, he started playing with Neil’s hair. There was no way he was ever going to tell Neil, but Andrew always thought he looked good with any hair color, even after he found out Neil’s original hair color was auburn. It was both a blessing and a curse.

“You’re not always one to cuddle, anyway.”

“This place is sacred. Wouldn’t think of doing anything un-sacred in it, ever.” Neil punctuated his ever by poking Andrew’s cheek, withdrawing his finger at the exact moment Andrew tried to bite it. “Too slow, asshole.”

Insults as terms of endearment. In thinking that it wasn’t possible for him to love this man even more, Andrew is once again proven wrong.

Closing his eyes, Andrew thought of everything that has lead up to this point. From his freshman year of college, back he knew nothing about what he was going to do with his life, to his life now – his ninth year as an Exy goalkeeper, his fifth year with the US Court, his third year as a pet-owner, his eighth and counting year with Neil. What Andrew felt about it all was inexplicably heavy, as if he couldn’t believe just how much had to happen for him to get here.

Understandably, Andrew didn’t like thinking about how life was before Neil. That part of him was safely locked away in a box in the corner of his mind. The nightmares about past trauma are now few and far between. Every once in a while, he remembers punching Neil out of the bed, or being woken up by Neil shoving a hand up his pillow to check for a gun. It was alternating between Neil sporting a black eye, or Neil waking up in a sweat because he was so fucking scared. Now, after years of experience have led to him being used to waking up and having Neil still asleep beside him, not an empty bed because Neil had to go sleep on the sofa.

He wondered if this was how Aaron felt about Katelyn all those years ago. If this was the feeling he was so against, if this experience was what he majorly disapproved of before and after his sobriety. The time he flew to Arizona to talk to Aaron about this flashed through his mind.

Are things with that cheerleader are still ongoing?

Andrew. You know this. You know we’ve been married for— for God knows how long.

I know.

Then why are you here?

For confirmation purposes.

And what are you confirming, exactly?

The existence of the both of you in my universe.

Aaron’s jaw had dropped a little. Then (and Andrew will never, ever let himself forget this) he had actually grinned. It was a weird twin thing, because now Andrew knows how he’d look like if he ever smiled with teeth. Afterwards, the rest of the conversation was more of Aaron forcing Andrew to apologize to Katelyn, but Andrew had strongly refused. He had felt like he had done enough character development that day.

(With enough of Aaron’s insistence though, mending things with Katelyn had come a little later.)

Andrew was jolted out of his train of thought by Neil’s lips lightly pressing against his jaw. A kiss, but not quite. Still, Andrew felt the sensation throughout his whole body. It was almost enough to make him shiver.

“Hey.”

“What, Neil.”

“Your thinking is very, very loud.”

“And you’re rude for interrupting.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“What class? I only sense one very, very annoying student.”

Neil smiled against his neck. He kissed Andrew again, this time long enough for the action to register itself into Andrew’s system twice over. “And what about it?”

“Hmm. How about I get a head start on that very unsacred activity you were planning on avoiding.”

Sex on the Foxhole Court would be uncomfortable, not to mention embarrassing if they were caught, but it could work. The logistics wouldn’t be difficult for the both of them. And if Neil was in the mood, then—

“Maybe later. I’m sleepy.” Neil mumbled, pressing another light kiss to Andrew’s jaw. Andrew heard the fatigue in Neil’s voice, and it was enough to make him a little drowsy.

“Mm. Go ahead.”

“But you have to tell me about,” Neil paused, as if thinking about which words to use, “about your thoughts.”

“It’s not anything you don’t already know.”

“It’s also obviously not about me being pretty, so…”

Neil trailed off, forgetting to complete his thought. The moment passed, and Andrew gradually felt the both of their heart beat in sync. The lights above them seemed to be a little dimmer, and, while Andrew wished he had the more advanced foresight of bringing a pillow, he didn’t think there was any other place he’d rather be.

Then, Neil trailed his hand up, up, until he was holding Andrew’s face softly.

“Nothing bad, I hope?” His whisper held the slightest tinge of worry, loud enough to reach Andrew’s ears. Andrew felt Neil’s fingers caress his cheek a bit, and Andrew felt something tighten in his chest.

Even after Andrew put all his defenses down, Neil still had it in him to be careful. No matter how strong he acted, Neil saw through the act each and every time. He thought about how nobody else would ever treat him like this. About how he would never have this with anybody else. It scared him a little.

Okay, maybe it scared him a lot.

“Oh, ‘Drew,” Neil said with a little bit of urgency, sitting up and holding his hand on Andrew’s cheek. Which had ended up being a little wet by Andrew’s tears.

Andrew can’t even tell when he had started crying.

“It wasn’t anything bad, I swear,” Andrew replied, sitting up too, taking Neil’s hand off his face and drying his tears on his sleeve. He had been overwhelmed. That’s all.

Neil, ever the worrywart, wasn’t convinced by it. “You sure?”

The worry in his tone was enough that Andrew wasn’t sure. “Yeah. I just—”

Pausing, Andrew gave the opportunity what it deserved and took in all that was around him. The awareness was calming, a steady hand to hold. There are always going to be moments like this, he realized. He closed his eyes, stilled himself, and opened them again. With this, Andrew looked at Neil, as in really looked at him, and saw him for who he was.

“I was just,” he began, and Neil prompted him by holding his hand, “thinking about life. How much has happened.”

Then, after taking a deep breath, Andrew continued, in a bit of a rush, “How I never got to thank you.”

Neil exhaled and shook his head, the relief enough to wash over Andrew himself. Then, he took Andrew’s face in both hands and put their foreheads together. Neil closed his eyes and cleared his throat a bit.

“Well, we have the rest of our lives for that now, don’t we,” Neil murmured, and after Andrew closed his eyes and nodded his reply, Neil curled a hand around the back of Andrew’s neck and put his lips to Andrew’s.

It seemed like every kiss with Neil was something Andrew needed to catalog. There were heated kisses, and playful kisses, and short kisses that said see you later, and kisses that led towards something more. This one, though. This one was more special than all the others. It was close-mouthed, chaste, but in that moment, it was everything. 

And for a brief moment, Andrew saw their entire life together flash before his eyes.

Andrew hitting Neil with a racquet in the ribs. How Andrew saw something in Neil despite being drugged to within an inch of his life. How Andrew seemed to hate Neil, and Neil had actually hated Andrew for a bit, because of what he did at Eden’s Twilight. The hatred that wasn’t really quite what Andrew thought it to be. The trauma that both of them had already gone through, still coming back to haunt them. Andrew and Neil recognizing that what they had was a-thing-but-not-really-a-thing. Andrew and the Foxes almost losing Neil. The Butcher dying, and Neil making a full recovery. Riko getting shot in the head. The Moriyamas giving Neil his life in exchange for money. Andrew and Neil graduating PSU. Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and King Fluffkins. The US Court. A whole lifetime together, ahead of them.

It was the full-blown realization that a lot of their life together was like that: not really the whole experience, but everything anyway.

 Andrew kissed back, enough to tell Neil what he couldn’t really say, and let himself go.

[turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating]

Part 12 of The Sam Diaries

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10507836/chapters/27875511

“It’s my hen night tomorrow and we still haven’t finished the guest list.”

“It’s not my fault my father decided to unearth the fact he has six siblings and a huge extended family only last year.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t notice your family was in a feud with another family. Your grandparents didn’t say anything?”

“Nope and same family actually. All the weird comments about my father being a disgrace when I was in school make more sense now though. And that time my brother kissed Abigail Rosewood way worse.”

“Isn’t she one of your newly discovered cousins?”

“Yep.”

“Your brother makes me want to retch.” Eunoia declares, coming into the lounge and throwing herself onto the couch, her feet in Sam’s lap. She pokes him in the stomach with her toe to get him to take his head out of his hands, watching his face for just long enough to see his begrudging smile before going back to her morning make-up routine.

“How are you doing that without a mirror?” Sam says in awe as she succeeds in not poking herself in the eye with the mascara brush.

“Practice.” She replies, round the mouth that she always pulls while putting on make-up, one similar to the face people make when feeding a baby. Sam always gets the urge to put his finger in her mouth, just to see her reaction. The only reason he hasn’t is he’s worried her instinct reaction would be to bite off the end of his finger. She finishes with the mascara, puts it back in the tube and then fixes him with a look.

“At the end of the day, this wedding is for us. Me and you. If you want your crazy recently de-ostracised family there then invite them. And if not, who gives a fuck. This day is for us.”

Sam reluctantly unfolds the guest list and scans it again.

Sam: • Mom • Dad • Sage

• Auntie Sabina • Uncle Joe • Sabella (+1; Grayson) • Sandra • Salem (+1; Hailee)

• Auntie Saffron • Uncle Cameron • Salvador • Sang • Sapphire • Sarah

• Uncle Sasha • Auntie Emery • Saul • Saveria

• Nan • Great-Aunt Scarlett • Granny Rose • Pops

• Dad’s family??

• Winter White • Yasmin Harris • Talon Anderson

Eunoia: • Julia García • Adoración García • Vasco García

• Rosa DeRosales • Bennett Johnson • Corinna Johnson

• Rashawn Jackson • Serenity Thomas • Kacey Jones • Lainey Jones • Iesha Williams • Madyson Davis • Jaden Brown • Nash Miller

• Neil Josten (!!!) • Andrew Minyard (!!!)

• Odin Wilson • Paxton Moore • Qiana Taylor

“You’ve got all your Exy team, the guys from the shop, and uni right?”

“Yup. And you’ve got your three and only friends, two of whom have the strangest names on the planet.” She teases. Sam rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I keep telling you; it’s Yasmin who’s the strange one.”

“We shall see. At least I have more friends to make up for my disappointing lack of family members.” Eunoia says, with a hint of black humour. Sam reaches over to squeeze her hand.

“You ok?” He asks, looking at her closely. Eunoia’s eyebrows pinch together for a second in thought, then smooth.

“I’m ok.” She smiles at him and they share a moment of calm before she gets off the sofa and heads for her shoes. “You’re not expecting me to remember any of the names of your family members once I’m tipsy right?” She calls over her shoulder.

“If you just call them all ‘S’ they’ll probably just think you’re being chummy.”

“I get that it was your dying great-grandad’s wish and all but he was really far into dementia by that point for God’s sake! Poor man probably didn’t know he was condemning all his future line to suffering ‘S’ names.”

“Great-Aunt Scarlett changed her name when he died. Did I tell you that? No-one can remember what her original name was.”

“She’s definitely always been your Aunt right? You didn’t have a transgender Uncle who reappeared as Aunt Scarlett?”

“I mean at this point…”

The impossible happened about two months before Halloween in that Andrew Minyard, renowned emotionless midget with no interest in anything besides Neil, sweet food, occasionally spite-filled pursuits such as stopping a goal in the stupid stickball game he plays for a living, fast cars, cigarettes, keeping promises- (Well shit Andrew thinks, How long have I had multiple interests for?) well, anyway, Andrew had taken part in a bet with his cousin Nicky.

Even more astounding, breaching not just impossible but feats not even alternate universes could have come up with, Andrew lost the bet. The bet was this; Nicky bet Andrew a favour that, if pressed, Neil would say he most liked hugs from Matt, not Andrew. At the moment that Nicky had suggested this bet over their skype call, Neil had wandered out of their bedroom, stark naked, hair sleep-mussed and expression completely content. Andrew’s eyes had travelled so slowly down Neil’s body from head to foot that Neil had flushed the pretty pink colour that Andrew can admit is one of his favourite things.

“Yeah, um-hmm, sure Nicky. Do you want to speak to Neil?” Andrew hadn’t taken his eyes off Neil while he spoke; honestly he was impressed he’d had enough self-control that he hadn’t launched himself off the couch and started devouring the redhead, which meant he had gotten to see the delightful change in expression from content to horrified as he dived back into their room to grab some clothes.

Andrew had smugly gone to make himself a hot chocolate, only drawn back into their living room when Nicky’s crows of excitement had become loud enough to annoy the cats into coming into the kitchen too. “Andrew you owe me a favour!” His cousin had yelled excitedly when he’d seen Andrew come back into view.

“What?” Andrew deadpanned, unimpressed with what he had been sure was more of Nicky’s usual antics.

“Our bet! Neil prefers Matt’s hugs to yours!” At this Neil had looked startled.

“Hey you just asked whose hugs I like the most! Andrew doesn’t hug me. You’re making it out to be different that it is.” Neil had argued, as Andrew felt dawning horror ruin his appetite for hot chocolate.

“What’s the favour?” He had asked, through gritted teeth, barely resisting the urge to slam the laptop screen down (the only reason he didn’t was it would catch Neil’s fingers, much as he’d go to his grave before admitting that was the reason). Nicky had looked more smug than Andrew had ever seen him, which was an impressive feat after last year’s; ‘Allison your fiancé is cheating on you with a man’-‘no he’s not’-cue Allison ‘walking in on her fiancé and the pool boy’ debacle.

“I get to pick your Halloween outfit.”

Skip forward to present day, the 31st of October, and Andrew had spent the plane ride over to Germany resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to spend an evening dressed in a tutu with rainbow colours painted on his face or something equally ludicrous, but that Nicky hadn’t said anything about not stabbing him for calling in the ‘favour’. Neil was much too amused by the whole thing for Andrew’s taste, though he was less sure about going to Nicky and Erik’s work Halloween party. Though his German remained as impeccable as ever, his only friends outside of Exy were Eunoia and Sam, and even they had a connection to the sport and himself. Luckily he doubted Andrew would be interested in socialising either, and just turning up was always enough for Nicky.

Neil tapped the fingers of his free hand against the balcony impatiently, a cigarette held lightly in the other, as he waited for Nicky to finish dressing Andrew up. It was a testament to how far Andrew had come that he was letting Nicky do this at all, bet or not, and Neil could admit he was curious as to what mortifying or objectifying outfit Nicky had picked out. Neil himself was dressed in the exact same zombie cowboy outfit that he’d worn to Eden’s the first year at Palmetto, something that made Nicky equal parts disgusted and nostalgic, and 100% obsessed with taking at least six selfies with Neil per hour. Considering he usually took five per hour, it wasn’t too much of a burden.

Neil turned when the door to the room opened. Andrew stalked in, his eyes sparking with barely leashed fury and maybe the tiniest hint of defeated amusement, his hands angrily rolling up the sleeves of his outfit that had clearly been made for a slightly taller adult man. Nicky trailed in after him, giggling, with Erik steering him from crashing into the doorframe with a wide grin on his face.

“Do you get it Neil? He’s a pilot because he hates flying!” Neil did indeed get it, but Neil had also lost all motor functions and was only just aware enough to drop his cigarette when it almost burnt out and started dropping hot ash on his wrist, let alone try and reply.

Even though it was just a costume and the trousers would be dragging on the floor if it wasn’t for Andrew’s thick muscular thighs bunching them further up his leg and the sleeves of the jacket were practically bursting at the seams around Andrew’s biceps… What was the point Neil was trying to make again? Neil didn’t even hate the pilot hat, perched atop Andrew’s freshly short-cut hair. In fact, his mouth was so dry Neil wondered if he was living in Arizona again. Where was he? Did it matter?

“Don’t tell me you had a traumatic experience with a pilot.” Andrew mocks when the silence has stretched on for just slightly too long, but the anger in his eyes has dimmed replaced with blooming concern.

It’s a conscious effort to tear his eyes away from Andrew and onto Nicky and Erik, but he thinks if he stares any longer he might be in for a much more embarrassing situation to get himself out of, especially as the muscle he’s put on since that first night at Eden’s has made his trousers tighter in a way that would not help him at all.

“How long do we have until the party?” He manages eventually, hoping his voice sounds less hoarse to them than it does to him.

“About twenty minutes. Erik and I have got to get into our costumes- are you sure you’re alright Neil?” Nicky asks. Neil manages a somewhat convincing nod (though not without some confusion as to what exactly about his outfit Nicky doesn’t already consider a costume) and they leave with a few more light-hearted jabs at Andrew’s expense. Andrew’s in Neil’s space the second they’re out of sight.

“Yes or no?” Neil asks, before Andrew can say anything.

“Yes.” Andrew replies without hesitance and Neil leans forward but stops himself. He doesn’t trust himself to not just grab at everything he can reach.

“Fuck.” Neil wheezes instead and Andrew is getting more confused by the second because this behaviour is indicative of a panic attack but the look in his eye is the same one he gets when Andrew saves an impossible goal on the court of his own volition, or smirks at Neil in bed, or when he says yes to Neil asking to suck his-

Oh.

“You have a thing for a man in uniform Josten?” Andrew tries not to acknowledge the way blood is rushing away from his head at the breathy sound Neil makes in response.

“Men, eh. You, very much so.” Then he says something so filthy in Russian that even Andrew’s tempted to blush.

“That fucking mouth.” He growls and closes the distance between them, liking how he can pull Neil’s hips into his using the gun slings on either side of Neil’s thighs, something he’s fantasized about doing since that first Halloween.

“Guys you ready to go?” Andrew may be able to get rid of his boner through sheer force of will but Neil’s pretty sure he’s a lost cause. Twenty minutes wasn’t long enough to get themselves into any kind of activity Andrew’s current attractiveness is worth, but Neil doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to get through this party without combusting.

He groans into the pillow when Andrew’s hand tugs lightly through his hair to remind him they have to go, and when he finally gets up he’s determinedly not looking at Andrew.

“Neil this is supposed to be a classy party!” Nicky complains when he sees Andrew. Neil raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Like, did you try to eathim?”

Neil sneaks a look at Andrew’s neck. He hadn’t realised he’d left quite that many hickeys but he doesn’t regret a single one. By the smug way Andrew refuses to do up the buttons on his jacket, Neil thinks he feels the same. It had taken a long time for Neil to be allowed to leave any kind of mark on Andrew, and the first few times Neil had been more freaked out by the bruise forming than proud. That was, until Andrew had had a bad day that had him convinced Neil was just as much of a pipedream as he always thought. Neil had prompted him to look in the mirror at the marks on his neck, proof of not only the existence of their relationship but how far Andrew had come with being able to trust Neil. It had helped, and while Andrew was still off for a few days, Neil caught him checking the marks in the mirror with an almost relieved look on his face.

“Will you let me do up the buttons?” Neil asked him finally, when Nicky’s pleading eyes had become too much to ignore.

“Yes.” Andrew said finally, turning to him. Neil buttoned his jacket with careful fingers, including the top button Andrew hadn’t even had done up before their make-out session. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and gulped at how the high neck accentuated the strong line of Andrew’s jaw and the colour was bringing out his eyes that were still slightly darkened with desire and- fuck.

They needed to leave. Now.

Nicky had asked Neil in rusty Spanish if him and Andrew had somehow managed to get into a fight without speaking seeing as Neil had immediately moved to sit in the passenger seat next to Nicky instead of in the back with Andrew. Why Neil had sat in the passenger seat was twofold, but the main reason was because he didn’t think he’d be able to make it all the way to Nicky’s ‘classy’ party without kissing Andrew again if he was sat so close to his not-boyfriend. He had no intention of saying this to Nicky though and instead went with the other reason; Andrew wanted to talk to Erik.

Nicky had gone immediately pale; looking in the back mirror to make sure Andrew wasn’t holding a knife to his husband’s throat. Andrew and Neil might have attended their wedding but, well, Nicky still remembered how Andrew reacted to Aaron’s girlfriends. To his utter shock Erik is grinning, almost shyly, his eyes wet with unshed tears, while Andrew very awkwardly pats him on the shoulder, looking like he wants to be literally anywhere else.

Nicky has to park the car he’s laughing so much, Neil not being much better.

“What, did, you, say, to, him?” Nicky wheezes, before cracking up again when he looks at Andrew’s face. Andrew shrugs.

“Thanks.” Erik’s smile hasn’t dimmed, even though the tears threatening to spill have mostly gone.

“I stand by what I said in that letter.” Erik says, in accented English. Andrew’s fist clenches and then relaxes.

“What letter?” Neil asks, feeling like he’s been left out of the loop, but when he glances to the side Nicky looks just as confused.

Erik’s eyebrows pinch together a little. “I sent Andrew a letter after Nicky told me what happened outside the club. Nicky’s a fighter, but not like that. Andrew saved his life, and therefore my world. Don’t get me wrong- you were still- Nicky how do you say the mean word for penis?” Nicky snorts, collapsing into giggles again.

“Dick?” He suggests, when he’s calmed down a little.

“Yes. A dick but you’re always welcome at our home. Just maybe when you were a teenager you would have been in the furthest away room.”

“Well into being an adult too.” Nicky chimes in, ignoring Andrew’s glare. “Let me guess, you finally thanked Erik for the offer?”

“He thanked me for helping you enough that he got a family.” Erik admonishes quietly. Neil blinked at Andrew, not expecting that was the reason he’d wanted to speak to Erik. Andrew swallowed and looked up at Nicky, who was staring back, misty-eyed and choked up.

“Oh.” Nicky said softly.

“I told your father about Drake to try and get his help in keeping Drake away from Aaron.” Nicky flinches. “He told me it must have been a misunderstanding, but he promised he wouldn’t let Cass foster any more children.” Andrew’s voice is carefully composed and blank as he continues. “I met one of the other children that your father let Drake attack. We talked. She said something that… I didn’t want you to think I hold any of your father’s misdeeds against you.”

“I can’t give you a hug from here.” Nicky says, eventually, tears spilling over.

“Why did you think I arranged this for the car journey?” Andrew deadpans.

“We’re not that far from the party.” Nicky says, determined, throwing the car into gear and driving them to the venue with the recklessness left over from his university days. He practically dives out of the car as soon as he’s put it into park and goes round to Andrew’s door.

Andrew winds down the window, unimpressed. Nicky holds out his hand like he’s passing something to Andrew but his hand is empty. Andrew glances at it and then Nicky’s face before slowly raising his own hand, wondering what the Hell Nicky’s doing. Nicky grabs his hand and squeezes it once, tightly, before letting go.

“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you both.”

“I don’t like surprises.” Andrew says mulishly, ignoring the way his heart feels full and warm with how Nicky had somehow managed to give him the feeling of a hug without bypassing his personal space.

“Neither do I.” Aaron, from behind Nicky, holding hands with a slightly paler than normal Katelyn, agrees, staring darkly at Nicky.

Neil looks between them both and realises Nicky had invited both the twins without telling either of them the other was coming.

“Well shit.”

[foxyfetches]

Please give me something about neil making andrew smile

It happened so rarely. Neil never knew how to predict it. At the beginning he could never tell the difference. A smile from Andrew was normally so shocking and so short lived Neil thst if Neil got one he was too floored to properly memorize them.

But that was so long ago.

Now everything about Andrew was familiar; more familiar than an exy racket, than running, than any other person. Andrew had been in his life longer than anything else.

They had retired years ago. People had expected Neil to coach, and he did for a couple years. But more and more he he grew to realize the court was no longer his home. His home was Andrew.

Neil grew to resent away games and practices. He wanted lazy weekends and afternoons. He wanted time visit their family and friends. He wanted to experience every moment of growing old with Andrew. He had missed too much in his life to miss a moment now that he had everything.

So he joined Andrew and worked with at risk youth. They volunteered at the youth center and pulled a lot of kids back from the edge, not all. But enough that Neil could no longer remember all of their names. Andrew remembered every one.

Andrew’s smiles began to be more frequent, and Neil began to recognize them. There was one that was wide with all his teeth that he saved for small kids. One that just barely turned the corners with his head tilted to the side when one of the kids did something right.

For friends their was a half smile, no teeth, but their teammates knew they had done something incredible when it appeared. Their coach had long since given up on seeing it, so when Andrew graced him with one on the day he signed Neil on the team the coach dropped the contract. On live tv. And said “holy shit.” They had to break to commercial, because Neil had been laughing too hard to sign.

For family he had a flat smile that showed just the top row of his teeth. It was sometimes paired with a laugh when our nieces and nephews did something particularly smart and sassy. The smile was paired with an honest to God belly laugh the time Kevin’s daughter took his laptop and chunked it in the pool after trying to play a history documentary on Christmas.

But Neil’s favorite smiles are the ones saved solely for him. The smirk with the head tilt when he insulted the press. The toothy grin with dimples when Neil did all the right things (ice cream for dinner, home before 5, wearing a matching outfit, and remembering to charge his phone). The lips pressed together repressed smile when Neil called him ‘Drew.

But the best smile of all came when they were laying together sticky and sated. Naked and warm pressed close. Neil tucked against Andrew’s shoulder. Then he got the softest smile imaginable, curled on the edges, pupils still dilated, and breath still panting between barely parted lips.

Neil knew his luck had kicked in at last when Andrew smiled.

@foxhle-court my first answer! Send me prompts guys 😄

[c-valentino]

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XII

They sat in a little Vietnamese restaurant, her choice, at a small table in the last corner, his. They had ordered, and then chose to ignore the awkward small talk in favor of briefly discussing next week’s team schedule. When the food came Allison changed the topic.

  “I agree this will be a little awkward, Minyard, but humor me. Why the rent boy? And I’m not even talking about this,” she held up the file, “piece of …work,” she checked herself. “It’s not like you are ugly. Yes, you are –let’s say complicated, for argument’s sake, but there are far worse guys out there who get by without paying.”

  She handed him the file, which he put to the side. He wouldn’t read it here. Andrew would have preferred to do this at home, but she had insisted. “I’ll cover this up for you but not the next one. So be careful.” His face was as impassive as a marble statue. Allison sighed. She took another bite of her summer roll and decided to change tactics again.

  “You are just listening because I brought you the file, I know. But seriously, did you see the interview with Knox and Moreau? The fans love it. Fuck the homophobic douchebags out there. There are enough people who’d willingly tear them to shreds. They’d make you look tame in comparison, Andrew. If you’d just play nice for the media…” He gave her a look. “Okay, fine, I’d like to have my own gay Exy couple to sell. Can you blame me? It sells.” Apparently, his food was more interesting than her conversation.

  “Is this going to be one of those conversations where you don’t speak a single word?” She got no reaction out of him this time. “You know what? I don’t care. I talk enough for the both of us, and I still speak Minyard fluently.” That one was a lie. He let it slip. She knew it too, because she stopped talking for a little while and finished her dish.

  “Why did you never make a move on Kevin?” Allison didn’t look up this time. Her tone had dropped to a more serious note, which told him that they had moved on from gossip girl to personally invested ex-teammate. “You like him. Don’t tell me you don’t. You’ve spent too much time with him, it’s so obvious.”

  “I wonder what Thea would have to say to that conversation,” he scoffed. It was the first thing he’d said since the food arrived.

  “Thea?” There was real amusement in her voice, which made his cá kho tộ taste bitter all of the sudden. “She’d be the least of your problems, believe me. She actually asked me if there is anything between you two. Seems like she doesn’t trust Kevin to tell her the truth.” Andrew glared at his plate. “Is he not your type?”

  “Kevin suffers from a condition that makes him seriously unattractive.”

  “What?” she asked, bemused and eager to hear it.

  “Exy brain.”

  She laughed at that. “That’s also your ticket into his… wherever you would want to go. All you need to do is to talk Exy to him. That’s all it takes, apparently. At least if you believe Thea.” He was done with this topic. Kevin was no one he allowed into those kinds of thoughts. He had been basically inseparable from the guy for years. There had been only two options:  keep Kevin completely out of any kind of fantasies and stick a huge, metal warning sign with KEEP OUT written on it in front, or go all the way. There had been no room in-between for him. 

  “Gross.”

  “I think he’d be good for you.” He didn’t look up while he reached for his wallet and left enough money on the table to cover the bill. “See you, Andrew,” she told him and he left without another word, the file in his hand. He had what he came for.

  He lit a cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. Good for him, she’d said, Kevin… He inhaled deeply and frowned at the cloudy sky. No, he decided, he wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole. Kevin was many things to him, and maybe ‘good’ was on that list, but that didn’t mean he would change anything between them and risk it all. It also didn’t mean he would be good for Kevin.

      “You did good.” Neil received a loving pat on his ass before his client finally got up, disposed of the condom and vanished into the bathroom of the hotel room. Neil rubbed his cheek against the bed sheets until his black blindfold slid upwards. Some clients wanted him to stay still until he was finally dismissed. This one didn't care either way and had actually watched him once before escaping his bonds, leaning against the doorframe, saying nothing while admiring the view.

  Neil’s wrists were tied behind his back with a zip tie. The scissors to cut them lay on the bedside table. Neil preferred zip ties above any other kind of restraints because he could break them without much effort by himself, no matter if they were tied in front or back. Duct tape was fine too, and could be escaped by the same technique. Neil could pick the locks of handcuffs without seeing them. Lock picking in general was a skill he had acquired early in his life. Ropes on the other hand, ropes could be nasty things. Depending on the material and skill of the one tying them, they could be pretty much impossible to escape from without assistance. Neil avoided them whenever he could, in fact, he charged extra for bondage and only allowed it with long-term clients.

  He shook his head to get rid of the blindfold entirely. What worried him was that lingering weakness in his limbs he couldn't get rid of all day. Getting out of bed this morning had taken some effort. He was almost sure he was coming down with something. He hadn't told his client. Maybe a dick move on his part, but quite frankly, Neil didn't give a shit if he gave the man a common cold or a sore throat. He could get that everywhere and Neil had bills to pay.

  He waited, lying on his stomach, until his client returned and cut his restraints. The back of his thighs burned when he sat up. They were angry red but it would fade soon enough, leaving no mark behind. His client got dressed without another word. That was normal. Once they were done this man never wasted many words. Neil thought he was still replaying the scene they had just done in his head and didn't like to be disturbed doing so. He was more than okay with that. Neil hated any kind of aftercare. He got dressed without bothering to use the bathroom or clean up in any way. All he wanted today was to get paid and go home. He could take care of everything once he got there. He was tired.

  The man in front of him handed him his money, as usual, in a blank, regular white envelope. Neil counted it briefly, but he knew he was being paid the amount they had agreed on. This was one of his regulars. They exchanged a look and a nod and it was Neil who left first.

  The elevator seemed to take ages. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache. Neil sighed. Getting sick was always a problem. He counted himself lucky that he had never come down with something serious. He had his fair share of minor infections and other smaller injuries though. He took care of them himself whenever he could, avoiding physicians and hospitals as much as possible.

  Please, let this be just a cold, he prayed to no god in particular. If there was someone up there watching him, he was some kind of a sadist and Neil didn't require any more of his special attention if possible.

  He wasn't surprised that it was still raining outside. It had been raining all day. It still sucked. He needed to get something to eat on his way home after skipping the grocery shopping today. He wasn't hungry, but he also wasn't a fool, and he knew he needed to eat. Maybe he wouldn't be able to tomorrow if he had caught some kind of stomach bug. Those usually sucked. He settled on Subway for tonight and hurried home. Another thing that had bothered him the last couple of days was the feeling of being watched. It could be his paranoia catching up again, but Neil wouldn’t dismiss it so easily. He kept looking for someone following him, for anything unusual, but he found nothing.

  The sandwich ended up on his kitchen counter while Neal dragged himself into his bathroom. All he wanted to do right now was to lie down, but he knew that once he was on his bed, he wouldn't get up anymore tonight. He stood in front of the sink, took his contacts out, took some Advil, and stepped into the shower where he scrubbed himself clean twice.

  Back in the kitchen, he managed half of his sandwich before giving up and going to bed early. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders and shivered. Great, he thought, definitely going to be sick in the morning.

   He woke with a pounding headache and a sore throat. He tried swallowing a few times, but it made no difference. Neil put a hand over his eyes to block out the light. Staying in bed sounded like a great idea. His headache couldn’t be ignored though. Slowly, Neil got up and shuffled over into his bathroom. He looked like shit when his eyes looked back at him from within the mirror. Bedhead was an understatement and his paleness wasn’t the flattering kind, neither were those dark circles under his eyes. He swallowed some painkillers and leaned in closer to the mirror. His auburn hair was showing at the roots again. He needed to take care of that. Neil brushed his teeth in hope the minty toothpaste would ease his sore throat a little. It did not. He relieved himself and made it back to his bed.

  Sleep kept eluding him for the next two hours, even after his headache had subsided. He felt tired though and didn’t get back up until it was past noon. Assessing his condition again, Neil got dressed and decided to get the grocery shopping done now, in case this would turn into more than a sore throat later. He had made that mistake once before and would never make it again. Being barely able to get out of bed with no food at home for three days, while suffering from crippling paranoia had been a terrible experience. He hadn’t even dared to order something to eat back then, his mind had been too hazy from fever dreams.

  ‘Help me,’ had never been on the tip of his tongue. ‘I’m fine,’ was his personal mantra. It was way easier to accept than ‘I’m alone’.

  He dressed in warm clothes beneath his jacket and left his apartment. Almost immediately the feeling of being watched returned. He lowered his head and walked faster. Behind him a car started, but he had not heard the driver getting in. Neil glanced backwards and saw a black Audi with tinted windows pulling slowly into the street behind him. Shit! Suddenly, the next corner seemed impossibly far away. Neil kept walking for a few more paces, but the car didn’t speed up. They knew they had been noticed. Worse, they knew where he lived.

  Neil’s feet hit the pavement in a sudden burst of speed. He ran down the street, around the next corner, down two blocks, left again when he reached the old church and behind it the run-down school. He climbed the fence there and kept running. Teenagers were turning their heads, calling after him, but he didn’t stop. The fear and sudden rush of adrenalin kept his legs moving but not for long. He was sure he had gotten rid of the black Audi, when his knees buckled and he had to catch himself on a wall, panting. Shit, shit, shit… Where should he go? He felt like throwing up, was sweating and couldn’t catch his breath.

  Don’t do this now, he told himself. If he was losing his shit now, if he would give in and let the fear take over, he wouldn’t make it. He would bolt and run blindly like he used to years ago. Get a grip! His feet started to move again, slower this time, with his knees shaking a little. Every face turning in his direction felt like a threat, and he kept walking. He found the next subway station and took the next train. He didn’t care in which direction it took him. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he kept moving for now.

  He switched trains again and again, made it halfway across the city and changed directions again. He knew he was being paranoid while he kept looking for suspicious faces among the passengers. Neil got off at a random station with no other goal in mind than to escape the people who had taken the same subway as him, who had entered the same time he had and not gotten off again. He couldn’t stand being around them right now, they made him nervous. It was dark outside when he exited the station. Neil had never been in this part of the city before and felt suddenly lost. It was irrational, of course. All he had to do was to take the train back.

  He found a bench and sat down, thoughts still racing. How had they found him? Could he be sure it was them? Who else would it be? But why would they follow him if they already knew where he lived? It made no sense. Had he made a mistake? Had he overreacted? No, no, thinking that was foolish and dangerous.

  His hand reached into his pocket for his phone to check the time. Almost seven. Without thinking, he went through his contacts until he found Andrew. Just looking at his name felt comforting for some reason. Neil waited for a few minutes, but it didn’t feel like he could get up and leave right now. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled forcefully. His chest felt tight. His thumb hovered over the call button. It took him a long moment to give in, and some part of him hoped Andrew wouldn’t pick up.

  “What?” Neil closed his eyes as Andrew answered his call. He opened his mouth to say something, but his brain came up short of a reply. There was an awkward pause while both of them waited for the other to speak.

  “Neil?” Neil took a shuddering breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “You know, that’s the first time you called me by my name.” He tried very hard to keep his voice even. It ended up sounding flat in a way that rivaled Andrew���s tone.

  “Is it?” Yes, it was, he was sure of it.

  “Hm?” He just wanted to listen to Andrew’s voice for a little longer. He didn't want to be alone right now.

  “Your name?” Andrew asked. What? He hadn't believed him back then? Was that the reason why he never used it?

  Neil managed a pathetic sounding laugh. “Yeah. It is.”

  “Where are you?” He wanted to tell him. He wanted to see if Andrew would come and get him, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had nothing to offer right now. He needed to go home and figure it out. Sitting outside in the middle of nowhere wouldn't help one bit. It would only trigger his panic attacks and then he would really be in trouble.

  “Don’t ask.” There was silence then. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to call. Really, I’m fine. Forget it…” He was babbling, he realized. With something close to panic, he hung up. It took him another hour to get home. The car was long gone but he hurried inside nevertheless.

     Andrew’s next message woke him early Tuesday morning. ’tonight?’ The goalkeeper must have been on his way to an early training session. Neil had hoped to feel better by now, but that hope had dwindled and left him with the harsh reality. This was not just a cold. He was sick.

  ‘Can’t make it this week.’ He had planed to text Andrew this morning, but the Exy player had beaten him to it. ‘Sorry,’ he added. He got no response for hours and drifted back into sleep. By the time Andrew did text back, he had not expected him to anymore. It was already late in the evening.

  ‘can I come up?’ It was the same message he had sent Andrew when he had shown up at his apartment unannounced in the middle of the night. Neil wanted to say no, for more than one reason, but it was because Andrew used the exact same question that he felt bad about refusing.

  Neil sighed and coughed and made a face when it hurt like a bitch. He was not one of those people who preferred to suffer for the entire world to see. He was the exact opposite. Maybe Andrew would be satisfied to see him and leave afterwards. Neil didn’t think he would have the energy to face the man tonight. He texted his short reply to Andrew and got up, taking a moment to get rid of the dizziness.

    Andrew could tell by Neil’s guarded expression that the man wasn't thrilled to see him. He could also see by the hand that grabbed the doorframe for support, the old t-shirt and sweatpants he was wearing, and his more than pale face that he felt like crap. Andrew took it all in and something must have shown on his face because Neil furrowed his brows and managed to look as much annoyed as pained as he finally let go of the cracked-open door to reveal the rest of himself.

  “…o…ease, ’t’s just strep throat,” he croaked, the first words unintelligible.

  “You sure about that?” He meant it like ‘you look half dead’, mocking, not in a worried, caring way –well, maybe a little.

  “Yeah,” Neil sighed and Andrew got the impression that it wasn't the first time this had happened.

  “Can I come in?” Not what Neil had expected, he figured out, when the man looked at him in bewilderment. Newsflash, I’m not here just to make sure one of your tricks hasn't beaten the shit out of you.

  “Suit yourself.” Neil turned around and left the door open. He went straight back into the main room of his studio apartment and sat down on his bed, leaning slightly forward and grabbing the simple wooden frame with both hands, eyes staring at the floor in front of him.

  Andrew closed the door behind himself and looked around. Small hallway, bathroom door to the left, shoes right next to the door, and an Exy racquet leaning against the wall. Backliner, on the heavier side, well used but still in good condition. The single room had an antiquated kitchen unit to the right, Neil’s bed stood in the corner to the left, his Exy gear lay next to Andrew at the door on the floor, a DIY clothing rack hung from the ceiling next to it, and a metal drawer stood right next to that. End of story. No table, no couch, not even a rug on the old hardwood floor. The place was clean but managed to look beyond run down. Andrew was intrigued.

  His main object of interest still sat on his bed, was still looking at the floor, as if waiting for the verdict. “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Not yet.” Meaning he wouldn’t; after all, he had diagnosed himself already. Fool. Andrew leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He could hear Neil swallow with some difficulty through his swollen throat, could imagine the pain it caused. Strep throat, not exactly one of his favorites either. He had it a few times when had been a kid.

  “So you relish any kind of pain.” He went over to the kitchen unit and looked inside the fridge. Almost empty, no empty takeout containers in sight either.

  “What?” Sounded like Neil wasn't his witty self today and had trouble following the conversation. “No,” he finally answered, a little annoyed maybe. A sick Neil was a grumpy one, Andrew decided. Not the only one he knew of that kind. He closed the fridge again.

  “Go back to bed,” he said and turned, leaving the room and Neil behind, closing the door.

   An hour later he was back, managed to wake Neil again, and repeated their meeting upstairs at the apartment door.

  “Now what?” Oh yeah, definitely grumpy while sick. Andrew simply raised his chin, shoulders squared and waited; watched Neil caving and stepping back again. So easy.

  “Catch,” he told him, as he passed him on his way back into the kitchen. Nice reflexes, he noted when Neil caught the box of Penicillin he had aimed at his head.

  “Where did you get that?” Suspicion, really now? He had told the guy he was using drugs, but Neil frowned at Penicillin?

  “Not from your doctor,” he scoffed. Andrew found three glasses above the sink, filled one with water, and brought it over to the bed.

  “Thanks,” the taller man managed to find his manners. Andrew waited until he had taken the medicine and took the now empty glass again. He grabbed a few strands of black hair, palm pressing against Neil’s forehead and pushed. It didn't take much force until Neil tilted and fell back onto the bed, grunting in protest to be manhandled like that. 

  “Lie down.” Slight fever. Andrew went back and washed his hands, then searched for plates and forks so he could split the Chinese takeout between the two of them. Maybe not the healthiest choice, but he had felt like it. And Neil –well, beggars can’t be choosers. His host wasn't exactly chatty today anyway. Andrew doubted he would complain. He brought the two plates and the refilled glass back to Neil and raised an eyebrow. The young man lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, one knee raised, naked toes curled and gripping the bed sheets, cheeks flushed, goosebumps on his naked forearms. Andrew blinked. He couldn't figure that one out, he realized. Embarrassment? Shame? Maybe, he wasn't sure why though.

  Neil noticed Andrew had been staring and lowered the arm to look up at the goalkeeper. He noticed the plates and accepted one, sitting up in the process, propped his back up against the wall and tugged his legs in to leave room for the other man. Andrew ignored that and sat down in front of the bed on the floor. He placed the glass next to the bed, out of the way, but still in reach for later and started to eat, facing the strangely empty room.

  What was he doing here, he asked himself. This wasn’t why he had come here. The reason he had come was the file in his apartment, and the unexpected text telling him that Neil didn’t want to see him this week. Running away, he had wondered. And what had been the deal with that last phone call? Well, the man was obviously sick but he didn’t strike Andrew as someone who would ask for help. No, he thought, this guy would suffer in silence.

  He took the now empty plates and put them aside. One look at Neil told him, that the man was more than uncomfortable with him being here. He didn’t say anything, but he kept that glare fixed on his face. Another broken rule. Well, Neil had that one coming from when he had shown up at his apartment before.

  “So hostile. I just fed you, you know?” Neil lowered his gaze at that, staring at his blanket. His response was unintelligible due to another coughing fit. It looked like it hurt quite a bit. “Could be mono,” Andrew observed. Could be a lot of things. Coughing didn’t usually present that severely in strep throat infections. Neil shot him another angry look between coughs.

  “Told you it’s strep,” he croaked. It almost sounded like he needed to convince himself the most of all. Why? Afraid it might be something else?

  “And a cold? Whom did you fuck recently? A walking cesspool? Did you charge him extra?” Andrew was getting annoyed. He had kissed this guy recently. Granted, that had been three days ago, and he should have noticed something by now, but still.

  Neil sighed and leaned back again, one hand covering his eyes. “I might have been outside running,” he admitted. What an idiot. And how did he manage to look so miserable all of the sudden? How annoying. Andrew watched him for a while, saw his throat working and the feverish color rising in his cheeks, saw the nervous tension in his body that could have only been caused by having someone he didn’t trust around in his state.

  “Yes or no,” Andrew asked in a low voice, hand hovering in the air above Neil’s head. No friend of words today, Neil gazed up at it for a moment, then turned his head and leaned into the touch. He sank back into the pillow once more, and Andrew’s hand followed him, fingers playing with black strands of hair. The gesture had pleased Andrew. There was no real trust between them, but Neil was willing to risk it for him, even if they met outside their business arrangement. Or was this part of his scheme?

  After a few minutes, Neil turned around to face the wall. Neither of them spoke, but Andrew was about to pull his hand back when Neil reached up to grab it, glancing over his shoulder. He didn’t touch Andrew’s hand but waited, and Andrew closed the gap and moved his hand up into Neil’s waiting palm. Closing his eyes again, Neil pulled Andrew’s hand back down on top of his head and squeezed once before letting go. Andrew humored him once more. Odd, crossed his mind, and it took him a moment to place the thought. It was, he realized, the fact that Neil trusted him enough to bare his back to him, something Andrew would never do. But not everyone was like him. For some people trust came easy. He just hadn’t thought Neil would be one of them.

  There was nothing sexual about this, yet it felt awfully intimate. Andrew hadn't been keen on any physical contact after the disaster in his living room, he realized; apart from the kiss in the parking lot, and that had been mostly anger and frustration. They were back to square one, him touching Neil, and the other man waiting for permission.

  Andrew was lost in thought, running his fingers through Neil’s hair over and over, until the young man shivered again. “Cold?” Neil shook his head. Then what? Andrew thought about that strange picture of Neil lying on his back again.

  After a while, the taller man turned around, squinting at Andrew. “I don’t mean to kick you out, but I really don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

  Andrew stood up. The file could wait another day or two, he decided. Neil didn’t look like he would run away any time soon. He turned to leave, when Neil sat up. “Andrew.” The goalkeeper waited. “Thank you.”

  “Shut up and get some sleep.”

     To say Neil had felt uncomfortable with Andrew around would be an understatement. No clients at home –don’t think about it. Not now. You got bigger problems right now. The visit of the goalkeeper had left him in a strangely vulnerable state of mind.

  He had woken up in the middle of the night, imagining that he had heard something –no, someone inside his apartment. No one had been in his kitchen/living room/bedroom, which had left him with the small hallway and the bathroom. He had grabbed his Exy racquet from beside the door to hunt down his imaginary intruder in his tiny apartment. His fever had spiked, but Neil knew all too well that his mind was capable of playing tricks on him even on his best days. Feeling exhausted, he had slumped down onto his bed again with his Exy racquet by his side. It was still there.

  The feeling of not being alone hadn’t left him afterwards. More than once, Neil had carefully looked outside the window to check for the black Audi. It hadn’t turned up again. Maybe they had gotten rid of it. Neil didn’t dare to turn on the lights anymore.

  Andrew’s text in the early afternoon made him jump. ‘still alive?’ A sigh of relief escaped him and Neil rubbed a hand over his pale face.

  ‘People don’t die of strep.’ Texting with Andrew made him feel calmer immediately. It made him feel like he was not alone. As much as he hated the thought of visitors, now that Andrew had broken that rule he wished the man would come by again. It was very unprofessional of him to think so, he admitted.

  ‘idiots who run in the cold might. did u put that theory to the test again?’ He would if he could, Neil knew, not for exercise though.

  ‘No.’ The walls were closing in. He hated that feeling. ‘How was your day?’ He had Andrew’s permission now to make this a little more personal, right? He honestly didn’t know anymore what was going on between them.

  ‘r u bored’ He frowned down at his phone.

  ‘Are you driving?��� There was nothing for a while. Neil closed his eyes, but kept the phone in his hand.

  ‘what’s for dinner’ Right, he should eat. The thought of leaving his apartment was anything but appealing.

  ‘Haven’t decided yet.’ Maybe he should order in.

  ‘tick tock says the clock’ Was he asking him? ‘cut the not eating crap already. it’s getting old’ Really? Neil felt a sudden rush of excitement.

  ‘Your choice.’ He shivered a little, and it wasn’t entirely because of his illness.

  ‘30mins’ Right. Time to get cleaned up a little. Grabbing a change of clothes, his second sweat pants and his black knitted sweater, Neil took a quick shower.

  Half an hour later, he opened the door for Andrew. The goalkeeper regarded him with a scrutinizing look. Neil knew that he didn’t look his best at the moment. For someone who’s looks were a huge part of his job, it wasn’t a comfortable thought.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” he answered automatically. “Come in,” Neil offered, more to escape Andrew’s eyes for a moment than to be polite. Andrew passed him by and Neil could hear him inhaling a little deeper. The taller man blinked. “What…,” he asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

  “Last time was the first time I hadn’t met you fresh out of the shower.” Neil closed the door and followed Andrew.

  “That’s what happens if you show up unannounced,” Neil answered unapologetically.

  “I thought it was a hooker thing –but maybe not.” The blonde put two pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter and looked at him again. Neil sighed. Andrew calling him a hooker again squashed his rising mood.

  “It’s not,” he agreed. Those hazel eyes looked at him piercingly. Neil wondered for a moment if the goalkeeper had taken something again, but his pupils looked normal. Judging the room to be too dark, Andrew flicked the light switch on. A wave of uneasiness swallowed Neil and he fought hard not to let it show. He buried his hands in his pockets.

  “Lies should hurt, Neil. The truth only hurts when you have something to hide.” His eyes widened as he heard Andrew say those words. He swallowed, ignored the pain it caused him. Andrew saying his name would take some getting used to. Andrew calling him a liar was nothing new, and the goalkeeper thinking that he needed to rub Neil’s face in his precious truths wasn’t either. The combination of all three made Neil feel uncomfortable.

  “And here I was, thinking we could leave the hooker thing out of this apartment. That’s what you get if a john comes to visit, right? Silly me.” He tried not to sound too indignant about it. Andrew grinned and wagged a finger at him.

  “Oh, Neil,” he mocked. The taller man narrowed his eyes.

  “You know, that name will wear off if you use it so much all of the sudden.”

  “It’s yours, right?” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “Yes, I’ve told you. That’s my name. You don’t like it or something?” Why could they never get along? He had looked forward to seeing Andrew tonight and now they were already taunting each other again. “Whatever,” he said, before Andrew could reply. “I’m a little irritated today.” He would take the blame this time. It was his peace offering.

  “I couldn’t tell,” Andrew joked. He nodded at the pizza. “Hungry?” No, Neil thought. He had been earlier, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anymore.

  “Let’s eat,” he agreed nevertheless. Since his place lacked most of the usual furniture, they sat down in front of his bed. Andrew led by example, seemingly avoiding Neil’s bed, and went once again over to examining the room while they ate.

  “It’s nothing like your place,” Neil said, “but what’s so interesting? I don’t get it.” There was nothing really interesting here, he thought. The only thing he’d regret leaving behind would be his Exy gear if it came to that. It probably would; most likely sooner than later now.

  Andrew shrugged and finished another slice. “Fits you,” was all he had to say. Neil took a deliberate breath in and out through his nose. An empty apartment fit Andrew’s assumptions of a hooker, most likely. He didn’t ask. He pushed his half-eaten pizza away.

  “How was practice,” he changed the topic, drumming his fingers on his leg.

  “The usual,” the goalkeeper replied, not trying to keep the conversation alive.

  “Tell me about it.” Neil fidgeted a little. He could hear a car stopping in front of the house, heard the doors opening and closing. Immediately his thoughts jumped to a black Audi.

  “A bunch of people running behind a ball across the field, swinging sticks around.” Andrew sounded bored. He left his last two slices untouched and pushed the pizza box away.

  “Sounds awesome to me,” Neil said, but his usual enthusiasm when it came to Exy was painfully missing. The words were empty, his mind miles away. Andrew didn’t say anything this time, declaring the conversation dead. He might actually leave now, Neil realized. He didn’t want that. The whole evening had felt full of tension. He didn’t want to guess what it would feel like to be alone again now. 

  He was getting nervous. The feeling was driving him insane. The urge to run wouldn't leave him anymore and he could do nothing about it. His own body wouldn't let him, and he felt the panic rising again.

  “Can I ask you for something?” Even asking permission was difficult. He avoided Andrew’s eyes.

  “Go ahead.” Andrew seemed curious. Neil made himself look up and face him, because even though he felt pathetic, it didn't mean he wanted to display it openly.

  “Can we go somewhere? Can we take your car and just get out of here for a while?” He felt close to begging at this point. Andrew looked at him, trying to figure something out, and Neil couldn't take it right now. “Ask me to do something in return, just, please, Andrew–“ He winced but Andrew had noticed.

  “I hate begging.”

  “Sorry. I know, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. Stop babbling, he told himself. Andrew kept watching him. Neil couldn't tell for how long. It could have been minutes or seconds, he just tried to keep himself together in front of the man, tried to stay calm and fight the panic down.

  “My turn,” Andrew said suddenly and Neil flinched.

  “Not right now,” he managed weakly. He couldn't do this right now. He wouldn't be able to dodge any important questions.

  “Tell me why you are afraid.” Andrew ignored him.

  “Andrew,” Neil said pleadingly. He felt cornered. There was sweat trickling down his neck. It erupted on his forehead and temples from his pores and his heart was pounding.

  “Who are you running from?” The goalkeeper showed no signs of pity. His voice was as flat as usual but suddenly cold instead of uncaring.

  “Andrew,” Neil whined. This was a nightmare; Neil tried to tell himself it was just another nightmare. But then, why was his stomach hurting and why was his chest getting tight and wouldn't let him breath? No, that wasn't right. He was breathing; he was getting close to hyperventilating already. He had lost the race; the panic had caught up. He needed to get out. He tried to get up, tried to get onto his feet but Andrew wouldn't let him. He tried to fight him, but that was impossible.

  “Get out,” he tried to scream. His voice cracked. He was going to be sick. Saliva was already pooling in his mouth. “Get away from me!” He gaged and pressed a hand over his mouth with a choking sound. Now Andrew let him up and watched him stumble across the room, watched as he barely caught himself on the doorframe, before his legs gave out under him, and he half crawled, half stumbled the last two steps into the bathroom.

  Neil knew this was a panic attack. It wasn't his first one and it wouldn't be his last. He would make it through it, but it didn't feel like it right now. It never did.

  While he was on his knees in front of the toilet, vomiting and gasping for breath, he heard Andrew entering the bathroom behind him.

  “Who’s gonna kiss you now?” There were tears and sweat and snot on Neil’s face, and he could do nothing about it right now. It was hard enough to stay upright. Andrew’s mocking words could have cut him to the bone, but he just felt numb. He could barely pay attention to them anyway. He thought Andrew should feel like a threat, standing behind him, watching him, but he didn’t.

  “Tell me you are fine again, come on. Hate to break it to you, but your blanket of lies is full of holes. You have to work on that. You know, I enjoy your little lies, as long as they are creative.”

  Andrew was angry with him. It registered somewhere in the back of his brain.

  “Maybe we should play another game. No one is allowed to tell the truth anymore. You would be a natural, I’m sure. Or we skip everything relevant all together and just have small talk all the time. How about that? The weather is great, isn’t it? Looks like you didn't enjoy your dinner today. Too bad. You know, those meds won’t do you any good if you can’t keep them down.”

  “Shut up,” he gasped, trying to stop himself from throwing up again. It hurt. It was just too much. “Fuck…” Andrew stood to the side, watching him, keeping his distance but not leaving either. He watched Neil unraveling, falling apart in front of him and took it all in. Neil had told him to shut up, but the silence felt even worse than all the mocking words. He couldn’t bear it to have Andrew just standing there like an observer. It made him feel exposed in all his twisted ugliness.

  “Just… keep talking,” Neil gave in, sounding wrecked. He usually did this alone, if he could help it. He would run and hide and wait for it to be over. He had never done this in front of anyone, but Andrew wouldn't leave.

  “What’s the highest score Kevin had in one game?” Neil took a few breaths and looked up at Andrew, head turned sideways. Exy?

  “E… eleven. Last season. Second… match.” He coughed and spat into the toilet. Andrew didn't even bat an eyelash, nor did he look disgusted.

  “Do you know how fast he is?” Of course he knew. He knew all about the man. He knew him better than Andrew. Kevin had lived his life exposed to the media.

  “Yeah… runs a mile a–“ he coughed again, his stomach protested and made him dry-heave for a moment before he could take a breath, “…four fifteen,” he wheezed but managed a grin nevertheless. His brain was kicking back in while it coughed up those details through the mess it was in.

  “What’s funny about that?”

  “I’m faster…” He managed to get back up onto his feet and leaned his back against the wall opposite Andrew. His legs were still shaky but he was getting there. Up, get up on your feet. Don’t let them catch you on your knees…

  “How fast?”

  “Four minutes.” Neil wiped the back of his hand at the snot under his nose. It didn't help much. He leaned his head back and shivered, but kept his roiling stomach under control. He was getting through this, he could tell now. All this Exy talk was getting him through it. He took deep breaths and used the cool tiles behind him for much needed support. His knees felt weak, but he needed to stand upright for a moment to prove himself that he still could. He would run if he could but that was out of the question.

  “How fast am I?” Neil blinked and squinted at Andrew. His brain was still slow. Finally, he shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, voice sounding raw. Andrew shrugged.

  “I don’t run.” Neil managed a pathetic excuse for a chuckle then, and allowed himself to slide down the wall, leaning his elbows onto his knees, and ran his shaky fingers through his sweaty hair. “But I could bench-press you.”

  “Oh hell…” Neil took another deep breath and grinned. “Are you actually calling me fat?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Fuck off,” he managed and laughed. It sounded rough, weak.

  “Are you done?” Showing concern or compassion clearly wasn't Andrew’s strong suit. Neil understood that, and he also understood that the goalkeeper was still supporting him in his own way. Turned out, it was enough.

  “Yeah,” Neil sighed. “Yeah, I’m done.”

  “Good.” Andrew turned around and left him. “Then get cleaned up. We are going out.”

<<Chapter 11                                                                                                  Chapter 13>>

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don’t even remember recording this but man was vibing and i was entranced

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summoning shenanigans tonight was vessel trying to pick iii up and he was so focused on fighting iii that he completely missed his cue to come back in on vocals lmao

i will check if i got video later!

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euclid- i was bawling from the moment vessel sang “do you remember me?”

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the night does not belong to god

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the summoning- ii’s solo and the sexy bit

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what a show. sleep token well and truly possesses a very very special place in my heart. this went so deep i wasn’t even aware of how intensely i would feel.

i was correct in my prediction that euclid live would break something in me- sobbed through the song and cried even harder at vessel’s thanks and goodbye

i did not, however, expect to begin crying when tndnbtg started to play. something about knowing how full circle the album cycle and setlist was perhaps.

i have been moved to tears by many bands, and can often be quoted saying concerts are the closest i will ever get to believing in a god or feeling that pull of faith that devout followers feel in a church. but sleep token? that show? that ritual?

how aptly named. that was the closest thing to a true spiritual, “praise be” moment i’ve ever been. they aren’t fucking around when they tell us to worship. that’s what that was for me. that was holy in a way i cannot put into words. i will carry that ritual with me forever

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rain intro (not sure what he played last night but it was pretty!)

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there’s a tech on stage and no one is hollering…

i’ve never felt so far from home lmao

where i’m from you scream your head off as soon as anyone sets foot on stage doesn’t matter if it’s crew or the band