#Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 19

PREVIOUS

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

#Fluent Freshman AU #Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure #Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps #If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it #Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010 #So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift #Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy #Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime. #(They have no idea how accurate that might be) #Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite) #Then his phone goes off #He looks and it's Roland #Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me? #Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn #I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's #And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron #I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar #But it got a little too crazy #But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist #Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant #Maybe that's how they got together #The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant #I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content #If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby) #The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own #RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010) #AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil #FF - Pt.19

[willowbird]

For the prompt game — could you do AU 1, trope 8, location 2 for Andreil? I always love reading these, thanks for sharing!

Grad School, return of the childhood best friend, inside Andrew's closet!!! Thank you so much for sending in the ask I'm glad you're enjoying the little ficlets and I hope you like this one too!

-----

Tall people were a curse. A blight on all of society. Civilization would undoubtedly crumble under the obnoxious stomping of their huge feet and the polar ice caps would melt at least in part due to the heat from their big fat heads.

Also, all the tall fuckers in Andrew's cohort were constantly putting things in places Andrew couldn't reach, especially when it came to the supply closet off of the office the group of them communally used. It had gotten to the point that Andrew had taken full command of the ordering and organization of all their supplies. Last month he had even gone so far as to print out and laminate a full-color sign for the closet that read: NO ONE ABOVE 5'3 PERMITTED. SEE ANDREW J MINYARD FOR ALL SUPPLY RETRIEVAL.

The only reason he'd given the extra few inches at all was because Robin, the undergrad TA that assisted in one of his classes, sometimes helped him out and she was a whole three inches taller than him. It was enough of a restriction that it barred the rest of his cohort from intruding, though, as even Renee was a solid 5'8.

Or at least, it should have been an effective restriction. Andrew had thought the rest of his team could read well enough to get the goddamn message. Then he showed up this morning and the fucking closet door was open and where was the box of printer ink he'd ordered last week?

That's right, on the top fucking shelf.

When Andrew figured out which idiotic fucking beanpole had decided to pull this shit with him there was going to be hell to pay. He would raid his cat's litter box for ammunition if he had to.

For the moment, though, he needed to replace the ink in both printers. Which was why he was balancing precariously on the arms of the only non-rolly chair on the goddamn floor, straining to reach the box of ink and quietly promising to take an extra dose of revenge out of each and every person over 5'3 if he fell.

Which he almost did when a sharp knock suddenly echoed a bit too loud from directly behind him.

"Jesus fuck what is wrong with y--" Andrew cut off abruptly as he looked over his shoulder to see who had dared come up behind him at a time like this. He blinked, then he fully closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. When the man before him was still fucking there, Andrew twisted slightly and jumped down, letting his ass hit the seat as he overbalanced on the landing.

"Um... hi."

It had been almost ten years since Andrew had heard that voice. Ten years. In that time Neil had gone from being a scrawny, anxious kid to... well...

Vivid blue eyes stared at him steadily, winged with eyeliner that only made them brighter. His dark russet-auburn hair was shaved close to his head on the sides but long enough on the top that he'd gathered it back in a loose bun, which only emphasized the perfect angles of his face and the soft give of his mouth, the way his chin carved down to a point as if to frame it, drawing the eye.

"Andrew? I didn't mean to surprise you. Well, I did, that's why I didn't tell you I was coming. I didn't mean to almost make you fall off a chair though..."

Neil clicked a tongue-piercing against his teeth. It flashed silver for a moment, matching the two bars that bisected his left eyebrow. Purple studs and a line of tiny hoops trailed up each ear.

Andrew stared, then he did the only rational thing and reached forward, grabbing the doorknob and slamming it shut with himself inside the closet.

His heart was fucking pounding, and he knew his face was flushed because, look. Look. Neil Josten at fourteen years old had been a scrawny kid with big ears and a chipped tooth that was always covered in bruises and Andrew had been so fucking in love with him. All he ever wanted to do as a baby gay was kiss Neil Josten. Thought about it all the time. But that had been off the table because Neil was his best friend and probably asexual and also literally trying to survive. When Neil moved to the other side of the fucking planet to be with his uncle, Andrew had told himself that this was a good thing because 1) Neil would be safe and 2) if there was distance between them then Andrew could finally get over him.

Over the last ten years they'd exchanged regular letters, but because Neil was a fucking technophobe and there may or may not have been an actual hit from actual hitmen and gangsters and shit on him over here in the states - they hadn't spoken on the phone and no pictures had been shared.

And now here was Neil. Almost twenty-four and... so so fucking hot.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a quiet, anxious, "Andrew..?" that sounded a lot more like the Neil Andrew remembered.

"Um... should I go? I'm sorry... I thought... I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'll go..."

"No!" The word escaped him before he had time to really think about it. He was pretty sure his voice cracked a little in his desperation too. Shit. Andrew cleared his throat and tried again. "Just... wait. I.. need to get ink."

"Okay."

Andrew did his best not to read into the mystery in Neil's tone. Instead, he thanked the closet gods and carefully climbed back up onto the chair. Another couple of minutes later he had the ink he needed and was facing a coming out he really never anticipated having to go through. Coming out of the closet to your best friend was one thing. Coming out of the literal, actual closet you have shut yourself in to reunite with your super hot best friend that you've been in love with for over a decade at this point was quite another.

Ripping the band-aid off was really the only way to go, so Andrew took a deep breath, put his free hand on the knob, and opened the door.

Neil had repositioned himself and was now leaning against the nearest desk. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows exposing strong forearms decorated with swirls of dark ink. Three fingers on each hand bore rings (not the ring fingers, not that Andrew was specifically looking) and his nails were painted a dark, glossy gray. Around one wrist was a frayed bracelet that perfectly matched the one Andrew also wore on the same wrist.

As soon as Neil saw him, he lit up. A smile on his face that shined in his eyes, even if there was a slight hesitance to it - understandable considering Andrew had just.. you know... shut himself in a closet after seeing him.

"Hey... Sorry again, about that. I know you don't like to be startled. I just... I got excited."

Andrew swallowed, a tough feat with a throat so dry. Somehow, he managed a snort. "Like a puppy. Should I be worried about my floors, Josten?"

"I dunno, you gonna scratch me behind the ears?" Neil shot back, and the smirk that accompanied it was fucking devastating. That's is, Andrew gave up. He lost. Dead, he was dead. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

Andrew did the only thing he could do to keep himself from grabbing the little bastard and kissing him senseless, which was ask the big question hanging in the room between them.

"How are you here, Neil? I thought you'd never be able to come back to American soil."

Neil rubbed the back of his neck, like he was thinking of the best way to explain it. After a moment he said, "Uncle Stuart still doesn't think it's a great idea - but there's no price on my head anymore. As of last month we cleared out the last of... well, let's just call them the old bad guys. There are new bad guys, but they don't really care about me."

It took a moment for that to fully sink in. Andrew set down the ink on the desk and moved to stand directly in front of Neil. When Neil stood up straight, they were almost exactly the same height - Neil only really had a few inches on him. At least he hadn't been lying to make him feel better when he'd told him in a letter a few years back that he'd topped out at 5'3.

"So? Don't you have a whole new life over in jolly old England now? Friends and family who don't regularly try to kill you? Why come back at all?"

He knew why, but he wanted - he needed - to hear him say it.

"Yeah, but... they aren't you."

"Me."

"Yeah, Andrew. You."

Their eyes met. Something in Andrew's chest snapped like an overworked rubber band stretched too taut and all the carefully sequestered feelings it had been keeping at bay suddenly sprang forth like a tidal wave. They rushed through him, filling him up, buoying him until he probably could have reached the top shelf of that goddamn closet without the chair.

"I hate you," Andrew ground out. And Neil smiled, because he knew it wasn't true.

"I missed you, Andrew. I missed you so fucking much."

"Shut up, stupid." Andrew forced himself to take a deep breath, then he snatched up Neil's hand and started dragging him out of the office. "Come on. We're getting ice cream."

Neil laughed and squeezed his hand. "Some things never change."

No, Andrew thought, some things never do.

#asks #AFTG prompts #aftg fanfic #andrew minyard #neil josten #reunion fic #i will never pass up the chance to make an 'in the closet' joke #they are so in love #andrew minyard x neil josten #andreil

[redlikesnow03]

So I just want more kerejeandreil so I wanted to write a lil bullet fic for them… Depending on inspiration I may use this to write something proper.

・Breaking up with Thea was the hardest thing Kevin had ever done but being with her had become too hard, she was still too much of a Raven.

・And it didn't help much that his attentions were being pulled in so many different directions

・After his breakup, he went to California to spend some time with Jeremy and Jean while he had a weekend off his games

・The trio had gotten pretty close, all things considered, and when Kevin wasn't with the Foxes, he was in California with them

・He and Jean were both in a better place, the Ravens were behind them

・And Jeremy was pretty much the reason Kevin couldn’t say he was straight (no matter how hard he wished it)

・During his stay, Jeremy kept catching the glances thrown his way and, judging by how his smile shifted into a smirk each time, he knew exactly why Kevin kept staring

・Jean wasn't exactly oblivious either and the idea of adding Kevin to their arrangement wasn't a terrible one

・Kevin couldn't believe his ears when Jeremy invited him to sleep in their room one night

・"You don’t have to but, Jean mentioned you swing both way and well, I've sort of had a bit of a crush on you for a while and-"

・"I'd like to," Kevin interrupted, a flush covering his cheeks.

・Jean stepped forward and curled one arm around Jeremy, cupping Kevin's neck with the other before leading them both to their room.

・Having two sets of lips on his neck, on body beneath him and one holding him from behind was a surefire way to forget about the girl he'd just left

・He returned to Fox Tower after that weekend feeling like he was walking on air

・And Neil noticed the difference. He wasn't as focused on Exy anymore, he appeared less anxious and Neil began to remember why he'd admired him so much

・Andrew also remembered what had drawn him to the Foxes and to Kevin in the first place

・One night in their dorm kitchen, Neil stepped out to block Kevin's way out and took the bottle of vodka out of his hand before he could drink it

・Andrew had a no intoxicated rule so if they were doing this, they'd do it right

・"What are you doing?"

・"Can I kiss you?"

・Kevin was dumbstruck, what was going ON? Had he been missing out on everything while clinging to a dying relationship?

・He nodded and Neil looked over to Andrew, who watched from the couch, who nodded that it was OK

・With his hands latched onto Kevin's collar, he pulled him down to kiss and, what he'd intended as a chaste kiss to test the waters, soon turned heated.

・After a few minutes of making out that had ended up with Kevin hoisting Neil onto the breakfast bar, Andrew cleared his throat and the pair broke apart to look over at him

・He simply stood up and walked into their room, leaving the door open in invitation and Neil hoped down to follow, looking back at Kevin.

・Kevin wasted no time following and they pushed their beds together to be able to sleep side by side and not be on top of each other

・It was very different with them and Kevin had to work up to being intimate with them but it soon got to the stage where Neil would use Kevin as a pillow as they slept with Andrew watching over both of them

・When Kevin got an invitation back to USC, he decided to broach the topic of their relationship with them

・"So you’ve slept with Jeremy and Jean?" Andrew raised an eyebrow. "This concerns us how?"

・"Well with the fact that we've been spending so much tim-"

・"Kevin, you’re an adult. If you want to go sleep with them, go sleep with them."

・Neil nodded his agreement although he was clearly disappointed to be losing what had quickly become their normal for a weekend.

・"Actually, I wanted to see if you wanted to come with me…" Kevin looked up from his hands to see Neil looking at Andrew with his eyes shining and Andrew staring him dead in the eyes, searching for any sign of an ulterior motive.

・"Why?"

・"Because they’re my friends and, if we're going to be… together, I'd like for you both to get along with them."

・Andrew agreed but held both Neil and Kevin's forearms captive on the flight over.

・Jeremy and Jean picked them up at the airport, both excited to see Kevin again and happy to be getting the chance to get to know Andrew and Neil

・At their dorm, Jeremy asks Kevin where he'd like to sleep

・"Actually, I'm sort of-"

・Neil interrupts with a hand on his arm. "You're not married, Kev. If you want to, we're OK with it."

・Kevin opened his mouth to protest as Jeremy and Jean both cottoned on to what they were talking out and began to protest until Jeremy caught Neil’s eye.

・"Unless you'd like to share?" he suggested and the other three boys turned to look at the two strikers.

・Neil turned to both Andrew and Kevin to see what they thought. Jean had to stop the smile blooming on his face.

・"We need some ground rules," Andrew turned on his heel and sat down on the couch, expecting the other to follow him.

・Neil and Kevin did immediately, settling on either side of him.

・Jean and Jeremy shared a look and Jeremy squeezed his hand before joining them.

・And that's how Kevin lost one love and gained four more.

・To this day, the five are still together.

・Jeremy and Kevin play on the same pro team in Los Angeles.

・Neil and Jean play on another in Denver.

・Andrew retired and went to law school works as a prosecutor in Columbia. He lives in the house he gave Neil a set of keys to with the cats and the others join him in the off season.

・During the Exy season, they go back to Columbia whenever they have an off week and always stay with each other instead of the team when they play against each other.

Hope you enjoyed~

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #all for the gay #kevin day #jeremy knox #jean moreau #andrew minyard #neil josten #kerejeandreil #jerejean #andreil #kerejean #kandreil #aftg fic #bullet fic

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up

Summary: With Neil going into septic shock, Claire is desperate to try anything that might save him. Now she just has to convince Dr. Lim to do the same, and see if her gamble will pay off. Starts after the conversation about religion.

A/N: I have very little medical knowledge, so I'm skipping right over the surgical bit. This is just a short, quickly written little one shot because I just finished s3 last night, and I just cannot deal with that. I'm sure there will be more Melendaire to come though, because I desperately need them.

Idk if y’all are interested in this but figured I’d tag yall @shaunthegooddoctor @neilrnelendez . If y’all (or anyone else) want to be tagged in any future TGD fics (in which Neil will never die before he’s 80) let me know :)

WC: 1651 | Read on: AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

“Claire, he’s got severe sepsis,” Audrey commented, her expression beyond sad. “Even if he did recover, he’d be immunocompromised. He’d never be allowed back in an OR.”

“‘He’d be alive ,” Claire protested, desperation creeping into her voice. “Dr. Lim, are you really going to deny him a life-saving procedure just because his quality of life might decrease?”

Audrey hesitated, trying to figure out what she would do if this were any other patient. What if it was a stranger? It  was too hard to imagine. What if it were Andrews? Or someone who wasn’t so deeply entrenched in her heart? But it was no good, she just couldn’t untangle her feelings for Neil.

“Please, Dr. Lim, just let me take it to Melendez and see if he wants it,” Claire pleaded. “If I talk to him…”

“No,” Audrey interjected firmly. She pulled the resident aside, to a miraculously empty patient’s room. She dropped her voice, no longer speaking as Chief of Surgery, but woman to woman. “Claire, he will do anything you ask him to, even if it’s not in his best interest. He won’t care, he’ll do what you say without batting an eye. You have to know how he feels about you.”

“I…” Claire stammered, not sure how to answer that. Being in love with your boss was awkward enough, but it was even more so when his ex-girlfriend was his boss and the one standing in front of you arguing about how to save his life.

“It’s okay,” Audrey soothed. “It doesn’t bother me. I care about him immensely, but it’s different with you. He’s different. It’s fine, I’m not in love with him. But you are, Claire, and that means you can’t be impartial about this. You’ll do anything to save him, and he’ll agree to anything to make you happy. That’s dangerous.”

“Then you talk to him about it,” Claire bargained, not giving up that easily.

“Frankly, I don’t think I’m impartial enough,” she replied, fixing Claire with a wry frown as she considered the options carefully. This was the hardest part of being Chief, putting aside your feelings to make big decisions. “Murphy just got back to the hospital. Tell him your idea and have him pitch it to Melendez. Without you in the room. If Neil consents I’ll get Andrews to do the surgery.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Audrey cut her off.

“I can’t do it, Claire, I just can’t. Andrews may not be as good as me, but he’s still a damn good surgeon,” she said, attempting a joke.

Claire nodded and scurried away, on a mission to find Shaun as fast as possible. Time was of the essence, after all.

o . o . o

She sat in the chair reserved for family and friends, bouncing her leg up and down, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her clasped hands. Waiting was agony, and she needed it to be over. She needed to know, one way or another, what was going to happen. But mostly she needed him to be alive.

Claire’s eyes flicked from his body, laying complacent on the bed, to the monitors that were beeping his vitals. Still no change. Which was good, because he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t awake yet either.

She lost track of how long she had been sitting there, waiting for Neil to wake up. Exhausted, she was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, not quite sleeping, but not entirely aware of the room around her either. She didn’t see his eyes flutter open, just narrow enough to see her figure sitting there, holding a vigil, the rosary she’d gotten for him tightly clasped in her fingers.

“Geez, you’d think I was dying or something,” Neil quipped, his voice barely a whisper.

Claire’s eyes snapped up, meeting his and taking in his full, conscious state. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his eyes were hinting at their usual sparkle. Neil was awake, and his vitals were still good. She felt like hyperventilating and crying with happiness. He was going to be alright. She stood, hands still clasped in front of her face, tears building up in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” he beckoned, his tone soothing.

Claire obediently crossed the little room until her thighs bumped against the hospital bed’s mattress. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and rest her head on his shoulder, sob her relief into his papery gown. Neil reached for her as much as he was able, only strong enough to lift his arm a few inches from the bed, but Claire caught his hand in one of her own, sitting down softly on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his throat still raw and dry from the surgery. “Shaun told me it was your idea.”

“Thank you for doing it,” she whispered in reply. Suddenly, Claire felt overcome with guilt. Had she been selfish to insist on this procedure? He was alive but it might have changed his whole life, and not for the better. “You might not be able to operate again though.”

“I know,” Neil replied, nodding slightly, the oxygen tube bunching under his chin at the motion. “But there are worse things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” she sniffed, having trouble believing that there could be anything worse for him than a life on the sidelines.

“Like never telling your friend that you’re completely in love with her,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if he was asking god to give him the courage to say what he needed to. Or maybe he was just in pain, his abdomen had been carved open hours earlier, after all.

Claire tamped down any hope she felt at the statement. He had, after all, stopped her when she’d tried to tell him about her feelings earlier in the night. Why else if not to save her the embarrassment of confessing her love to someone who didn’t reciprocate? Even if it had saved his life, she was still a fool for falling in love with her boss.

“Claire?” he asked, looking at her significantly as his voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Was ‘friend’ too vague? Should I have said ‘star resident’ instead?”

Well there was absolutely no way he was talking about Morgan.

“Me?” Her voice failed her, but it didn’t matter. He understood.

“Yeah, you,” he whispered, a shy smile appearing. “I love you, Claire.”

“Ohthankgod,” she breathed, her body relaxing a little at his words. “I love you too.”

“I know,” he answered, confident in a way that only Neil could be. “Why else would you try so hard to save me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but they both knew there was some element of truth to it. She loved him so much that she just couldn’t let him go. She smiled and snuggled in next to him, encouraged by his words and his prognosis. After that night, she just wanted to hang onto him and never let go.

“Claire?” Neil said hesitantly, brushing his nose softly against her forehead and following the touch with a gentle kiss over the same spot.

She craned her neck to look at him, smiling at him to prompt him further.

“When I get out of here, I don’t want to take things slow.” His expression was thoughtful and sincere, conveying that he meant every word he said with utter certainty. “I don’t mean physically, that’s… I’ll follow your lead, and there’s no rush there. Hell, my doctor may not clear me for much exertion for a while.”

They both grinned at the stupid joke.

“But,” he continued, “I don’t want to hide things or take it one day at a time or anything like that. Which is maybe stupid, given how many relationships I’ve killed in this hospital. But I know you’re different, Claire, and I… I just want to be with you.”

“You sound like you’re about to propose,” she teased, mostly because she wasn’t used to hearing him take that tone. Sure of what he wants, but nervous how she might react.

“If I had a ring, I might be tempted,” he replied, laughing a little. “But you can go ahead and take the spare apartment keys that are in my office, because I want you there as much as you want to be. Always, if I’m really honest.”

“That sounds nice,” Claire answered, fighting a yawn.

Despite her desire to stay awake and continue their conversation, exhaustion was finally catching up with her now that the adrenaline had worn off. She wriggled a little bit until she was lying on her side, her arm draped over his chest so that her hand could curl around the far side of his neck, and one leg resting gently on top of his. Neil slid his arm beneath her ribs, wrapping it around her waist so he could hold her tight as she dropped her head against his chest, savouring the feel of his heart beating.

“Get some sleep, Claire. I love you,” he whispered, even as she was already drifting off into a dreamland, and he pressed a kiss into her curls, breathing deeply. He was more than content holding her like that, falling back asleep with her small frame clinging to him.

Dr. Lim appeared in the doorway to check on her patient, smiling at the setup she found. Quietly, she backed away, sliding the glass door just so that the couple wouldn’t be disturbed. They’d had a long road to get to where they were, and they would have a lot of challenges ahead of them. The least she could do was give them one night of peace, where it didn’t matter that he was an attending and she was his resident.

#the good doctor #neil melendez #claire browne #melendaire #audrey lim #gen writes #tgd ff #tgd fic

[mydearsaddiary]

Little curiosity notes: Hey guys! We’re on chapter 9 now! If everything goes according to plan the story will end in the next chapter! I might do an additional short epilogue after, but the plan is only to continue until chapter 10! Thank you so much for reading until here and as always: Feel free to reach out!

Thank you!

Candy (08/20/2020)

Neil Chapter 9 part 1- First, do no harm

1933

-Cliff- I said as I walked from the back room of the diner I helped to manage now- you’re running low on soda, you know!

-Geez- He said, finishing up cleaning a table and running towards me- I’m awful with this inventory stuff ya know, MC. Mind seeing everything we’re missing?

I smiled, gently hitting him on the head with the papers I was holding- Glad to help.

-Neil coming in today? Just got his new bourbon stash this morning!

-Im sure he’ll pop by later when the nanny is home. How’s everything going with you?

-It’s fine, me and Jane just moved in together- He crossed his arms , blushing a little and giving me that big smile of his.

-So you finally settled down. Next thing you know you’ll have little Conways running around the place

-Maybe in a few years- He turned around when somebody called his name- Alright, duty calls. Have fun in there!

-I always have- I waved at him and returned the back room to count our stock, manage prices, and do basically everything I did at the Ice Box. I enjoyed doing the same job alongside the same people without having the risk. Our past evolved into a better future than most of what the other mob bosses had.

Suddenly, I heard the lock click. My initial shock soon turned into dark memories I wanted to forget. Impulsively I tried open the door only to find out I was actually locked in

-Hey...! Hey!- I knocked on the door- Hey, let me out! Somebody locked me in- I wasn’t scared of enclosed places. It was the sound of the lock clicking and the inability to open it from the inside that haunted me.

I hated being locked in.

-MC- The door opened after a few knocks. Vince was there- Sorry, just came in and thought somebody left it open

-It’s alright-My cheeks were colored red, but besides that I kept my posture- I’ll just do the inventory outside

1926

I opened my eyes, waking up from my sleep. I could feel no sign of light besides the faint, artificial one. I sighed heavily realizing nothing had changed. In my new found experience, not being in the sun for three weeks messes with you head. It makes you tired and empty. A crippling force tells you to accept your fate to remain there.

I sat up, only to find Vera already awake on the mattress besides mine- Did you check the day today?- I asked

-Yeah. The holidays are approaching fast. How are you?

I rubbed my stomach which now had started to show more. Vera had asked the mayor, in one of the times he came in, for new clothes. She had some in the bedroom they used to share. It was refreshing to say the least and her clothes, that were slightly bigger on me, helped me hide my condition from him. It was a light and loose salmon colored shirt that went down until my hip, and a beige skirt that went to my calf, along with white stockings. It was nothing I’d normally wear, but I wasn’t in the position to be picky.

-I feel fine- I said- I don’t feel too sick anymore. I haven’t gotten any movements yet

-How far along are you?

-Hm... I went to the doctor last month... Must be around 13 or 14 weeks.

-It’s still early. Mine didn’t move until about 17 weeks

I looked at her, genuinely surprised- You have kids?

-Oh yes, Frank and I have our children. They’re all grown and moved on to different parts of the country. My oldest one is a little older than you.

-What’s her name?

-His, actually. His name is Robert. He’s 21 now, he got a job out west and comes back to visit when he can.

-Who are the others?

-Oh, May is 18. She’s with her aunt in Florida. I sent her when things got too complicated here. She wouldn’t listen to us.

I chuckled- I know how she feels.

-Then there’s Matt. He’s 16.

-What’s going on with Matt?

-He’s in New York as an apprentice to his grandfather. My ex-husband’s dad. He wants to teach him how to run the business he owns

-Seems like they’ve got it all figured out

-Yes. Well, I know the feeling of having your first kid. I was but a bit older than you are right now. Although- She pointed to her surroundings- I had a more adequate stay

I laughed, but there was no humor in my voice- Adler’s gonna bring our city down under his total power if we don’t do something

-You don’t think your men are trying to save you or figure it out?

-Trying is the key word. Vince...-I sighed, with a heavy heart- Well, Adler shot him... He must be dead right now. That means Cliff and Uncle Charlie must be a mess. On top of it, for my uncle, there’s the fact that I disappeared. That also messes with Neil who, I can’t even imagine what he must be feeling but it’s nothing good. Then Donovan isn’t close enough with them to put everybody’s head together. Julius, Cleo, Sofia and Andrew... Im sure they’re trying to help but...- I sighed- I’m the head of the Ice Box. Im the queen on the chess board. They need me- I said as I realized it myself- I can’t spend any more time waiting for something to happen or counting days.

-You already tried everything, remember?

-Not everything- I got up, exercising my need to move my legs- You know Adler’s schedule better than anyone. When is he out for a long time?

-He’s always at the office from noon to six on weekdays.

-Then thats our time to escape. We’ll wait an hour just to be sure, then leave.

-Yes, but you’re leaving out the important part— How are we gonna leave?

-Last night, before I went to bed, I was looking around your things to see if I could find something useful

-You went through my stuff?!-She said visibly irritated

-If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have found this- I opened my hand to show her the few bobby pins I had in my possession

-How is pinning your hair up helping us?

-Oh Vera, dig a little deeper. It’s for opening the door. I can pick it!

-With those? I think you might be a little too optimistic

-Thankfully- I said cheering up- I had plenty of training sneaking back in my house, and hiding from Momma and Poppa. I have yet to meet a lock that could stop me.

She looked at me for a few seconds and sighed- Alright, I’ll bite. One in the afternoon then.

-Thats right!-I hid it once I heard the door open. They were bringing breakfast down.

____

We heard Adler leave. We heard everything until there was nothing else to hear. The anticipation was so overwhelming that when Vera’s little clock hit twelve-thirty, we were on out way up the stairs.

I got two bobby pins and started to work on unlocking the door. In a few minutes, it clicked and it opened right up to the now dark living room

-You know- She whispered- For the three weeks you were here, you could’ve tried that sooner.

-I didn’t know you had these!- I whispered too, but in an angrier tone- And you’re welcome!

I pushed the door out slowly, as if someone would head. The dark immensity of the house spread before my eyes. Without a single soul there it seemed peaceful, but in a way that unsettled you, like something was waiting to jump out from the dark. The negativity soon disappeared as I got lost in my thoughts for a second and walked over to the big window, letting the sun hit my face. The warmth of the natural light, warmed up my heart along with it. The joy of finally breaking free made me forget for an instant I had to walk out the front door.

-Miss Granger, let’s go!-Vera hurried me up

-Yeah, right- I walked up to the front of the house. By the door there was a table. I noticed keys on top of it- This is for his Ford, isn’t it?- I grabbed them-Nifty! We just got out escape vehicle

-I can’t drive- She looked at me uncertain

-Well, I’ve been learning- I replied opening the door- Now, let’s scram

___

I had to go through two Fords to find the one the keys belonged too, within myself we could taste the flavor of freedom.

Opening the door, I made my way in. It was then everything was ruined by a single shot that went right through the window on my side. When I looked back, Adler stood a few yards away with a gun aimed in my direction, along with his two goons.

-Go, Vera! Inside!-I yelled at the top of my lungs closing my door and turning on the car. I stepped on the gas and went as fast as the car would allow me to.

Soon, down the streets of Chicago we went. The bright sun and the streets filled with people would normally be cause for celebration, but my currently situation prevented me from enjoying it. I heard more shots coming our way and noticed that Adler was following us in his own car

To make everything better, Vera was freaking out in the passenger seat

-Woaaaaaaaaah, be careeeful! Waaaait, you’re going tooooo faaaaast!

-Vera!- I yelled back, driving and swerving as much as my experience would allow- If I don’t drive fast he’s gonna catch up to us—Ah!- I yelped when another shot came right in between us, making a hole in the windshield

-You’re gonna kills uuuus!-Her voice got louder and more annoying- I’m not ready to die!- She continued, letting out her “Oh!”s And “Oh my god!”s And her loud screams that were worse than the shots for me. At this point, I tried my best to ignore them since our lives depended on it

She yelled even louder when his car bumped into our rear and sent our bodies forward. I heard continuous shots that shattered our windows and I couldn’t go any faster. I had to think of something quickly, but all the stimulation from the outside made the task harder.

That’s when I saw it and hope ushered back into me. The little red convertible from the corner of my eyes, driving right ahead of us. Vince drove with ease on the wheel, while, surprisingly, our most experienced shooter, Donovan, fired back in the mayor’s direction from the passenger seat.

Seeing them, I let out a relieved little laugh. Fear was substituted with the urge to go faster, so I gained some distance on them. On the other side the trusty green Studebaker had Cliff, Uncle Charlie and Julius in it. Cliff drove, Uncle tried to steal glances my way, and Julius had a pistol, and helped Donovan by firing back. Sometimes Vince would keep one hand on the wheel and use pearl to fire as well. What I thought was going to be hell quickly turned into an exhilarating thrill.

And then, time slowed down as a third car showed up. The darker colored vehicle that belong not just to any man, but to the man I had longed to see all this time— Neil Dresner. I recognized the car but I couldn’t see him since he drove ahead of me. It might seem silly, but the importance of that moment couldn’t be just understood, it had to be felt. The whole world brightened up again just to know he was near. I knew then I wasn’t alone, and I never would be again.

And then everything came back to me in a second, when Vera’s shouting became deafening and another shot came right by us

-We’re going to die! Jesus!- She kept having her panic attacks

-MC!-I heard a voice from Vince in his car- To the docks! Go to the docks!

I nodded, better now that I had a direction in mind,so I sped up towards my new destination.

The city passed by us in a blur, I didn’t allow myself to focus on anything else but getting there. I’m sure everyone else had a plan and in my mind I started formulating the beginning of my own.

I turned into the road that led to the docks and swerving the car faster than it could handle, I stopped abruptly, hitting a few of the many giant boxes piled around, ready to be transported. The side of the car caved in, but we came out unscathed in the front

-What are you thinking?! We could have died! We could hav-

-Vera!- I yelled, looking at her, panting. The adrenaline hadn’t left my body and I knew it wouldn’t for a long time- you’re a chatter-mag bitch- I said in an unusual calm tone, still trying to catch my breath

-Excuse me?-She gave me that look she usually did when she disapproved of something

I was going to reply, but then I heard a car and shots again- Go Vera! Out of the car!- I pushed her out her way and pulled her to hide behind the boxes laid out nearby.

I heard more tires and assumed my gang had arrived to rescue us. I smiled realizing I was right when I saw Vince throwing me my trusty revolver- Let’s take car of em, boss.

-Don’t call me that- I grabbed it, feeling an immense power I hadn’t felt in a long time. I pointed it to my target, my enemies, those who sided with Adler...

...And fired.

Part 2: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/post/627009903803990016/speakeasy-tonight-fanfic-neil-season-3-chapter-10

#voltage usa #speakeasy tonight #voltage amemix #voltage inc #voltage #voltage games #lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #neil dresner #vince moretti

[rose-of-the-court-blog]

A Little Bit of Gay History

Inspired by this hilarious post: x

I took some (a lot) of liberties with this, especially with the beginning, but I hope no one minds! This is my first fic for the aftg series, so hopefully the characters aren’t too ooc :’) 

By the way, I don’t necessarily like writing Kevin as a constant drunk. So this is a one-time dealio. My next fic will be ab him overcoming his dependency on drinking <3 I love Kevin Day y’all

Neil Josten was used to nights out in Columbia. He enjoyed the drive, the house, and the time spend with the Monsters, his family. It was a time where all five of them could relax (sort of). Neil had gone with the Monsters a dozen nights and expected the same order of events to happen each time: drive, Eden’s Twilight, dragging Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin’s drunk asses home, then properly relax at the house. What he wasn’t expecting tonight, however, was a drunk ass Kevin practically clinging to Neil by the end of the night.

Earlier in the evening, Kevin and Aaron had done competitive shots and did so many they lost count and couldn’t tell who won. Next, Kevin joined Nicky at the bar to try out some of Roland’s new mixes. Then Kevin shared a quiet drink with Andrew after he’d been dancing. It was around this time that Neil noticed that Kevin’s green eyes had gone a bit hazy and his stance a but wobbly.

Andrew had silently gotten up, which meant Neil and Kevin did too, but he motioned for them to stay. Neil figured he was either going to the bathroom or going to find his wayward twin and cousin. Normally, Neil was fine with being alone with Kevin. Tonight, however, has turned out to be a different story and had Neil fervently wishing Andrew to make a hasty return.

“Neil, I need you to listen” demanded Kevin. “Listen!”

Kevin grabbed Neil’s shirt and shook him a little, as if he could make Neil magically listen to his profound insights by force. He’d been trying to gain Neil’s attention for the five minutes. Even though Neil was with him and listening to his rambling the entire goddamn time. 

Neil closed his eyes. He had a headache.

“Do you understand? Neil, do you understand anything at all?”

Kevin may be family, but that didn’t mean Neil didn’t want to sock him right in the throat.

Neil took a deep breath. “No, Kevin, I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything of what you’re saying. Do you know why? Because you have yet to get to the fucking point you useless vodka-fucking bastard.”

“You can’t fuck vodka.”

“You’re right. It’s a talent only you’ve personally achieved. Congrats”

“How would that even work? Vodka is a liquid-- wait. Lubricant.”

Neil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could do nothing but stare as Kevin drunkenly pulled out his phone to google it, almost dropping his phone three times in the process. Neil wanted Andrew to hurry back more than ever.

Andrew.

The very thought of Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky coming back to Kevin spouting nonsense about using vodka for motherfucking lube was enough to make Neil desperate. He didn’t want to think of the consequences of Kevin and Nicky bonding over hypothetical alcohol-based lubricants. No. Just...no.

Reaching up on his tiptoes, and hating himself and Kevin all the more for it, he made a desperate grab for the phone. “No. Shit, no. Hold still. Kevin don’t you dare--”

“Apparently,” Kevin loudly began, easily evading Neil’s grabby hands thanks to his gigantic asshole height. “vodka as a lubricant would be very unpleasant thanks to the acidic properties. What a shame.”

Neil grabbed Kevin’s arm, yanked it down, and then used Kevin’s newly healed hand to slap Kevin in the face with it.

“Stop that,” Kevin hissed. He yanked his arm back, harshly, from Neil’s grip and overbalanced, falling back into the wall with a thud. Kevin blinked. Then slowly began sliding down the wall to the floor in all his drunken glory.

Neil wasn’t impressed. “You deserved it.”

Kevin’s eyes were still hazy, but he managed to scowl all the same. “If anyone deserves to be smacked it’s you. You haven’t been listening this entire time.”

“That’s because you never got to the actual point. You’ve just been talking nonsense at me this entire time.”

“Nonsense?!” Kevin spluttered. “the gay history of the world isn’t nonsense!”

What.

“What?”

Kevin scoffed. “You never listen.”

Neil was two seconds away from committing murder. Family be damned.

When Kevin opened his mouth to speak again, Neil was quick to interrupt him. “You can tell me all about your history stuff later, but right now Andrew is coming back and we need to start heading back to the tower.” That last part was a lie, but Kevin didn’t need to know that.

“The junkie is right. Get up, time to go.”

Neil startled so badly that he nearly toppled over and landed on Kevin. A hand shot out and grabbed Neil’s bicep and pulled him back abruptly. He turned and gave Andrew a grateful look, who squeezed his bicep gently before releasing him. 

“Jeez, Neil, be careful!” Nicky laughed, arriving out of nowhere to Neil’s right. Seems like Neil was correct in assuming Andrew went to look for his family. When Neil turned back around he saw Aaron lifting Kevin up and putting one of his arms around his shoulders. Privately, Neil thought they looked ridiculous with two drunk-out-of-their-mind men leaning on each other, with one being pint sized and the other a giraffe with a queen tattoo, but wisely chose not to say anything.

Wymack would be so proud.

Andrew turned, having established that Aaron could handle Kevin, and led them all through the exit to the Maserati. To home. 

Neil had all but nearly forgotten the Incident That Shall Not Be Named by the time Monday rolled around. Andrew had perfectly distracted him all weekend, with witty remarks and truths and kisses, that Neil didn’t really give Kevin’s odd ramblings a second thought. 

Andrew had subtly asked him what Kevin was on about when he’d arrived, but Neil had been stubbornly silent on the matter. Neil wasn’t going to be repeating any of what he heard to Andrew. He didn’t want to relapse into another headache.

Now, though, Neil was coming back from his morning jog. The day was starting off nicely. He’d woken up, limbs entangled with Andrew from their chests to their toes, the closest they’d ever held each other. A morning kiss (and the subsequent complaint that Andrew would never allow this again because morning breath wasn’t worth it. Neil knew better though). Being allowed to wear Andrew’s favorite hoodie while out on his jog. The crisp, cool morning air--

Ping!

Neil stopped. It took a moment, but then he remembered the iphone Allison had bought him. He rarely used it, but he knew the sound the his email notification going off. It was frustrating how every little sound the device made gave Neil small bouts of fright. Ridiculous. 

Scowling, Neil pulled the damn phone from his lower pocket in his cargo shorts (jorts forever banned by the Foxes’ collective effort -- even Aaron’s). Pulling up the email, however, Neil quickly became confused. Why was Kevin e-mailing him?

To: Neil Josten

From: Kevin Day

Subject: The Affair of Radu III and Mehmed

Surely, this was a mistake? After all, Neil distinctly remembered Kevin rambling on about a paper he was doing on a man named Radu III. Neil hadn’t paid much more attention beyond that detail because it was about history and honestly? Fuck that.

But why was the subject titled “The Affair of Radu III and Mehmed” then? What kind of history essay was this?

What the fuck, Neil thought. What. The. Fuck.

...

Neil clicked it.

“DELETE IT!” Kevin roared. “NEIL, I’LL MAKE YOUR LIFE HELL IF YOU DON’T DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW!”  

With a shit-eating grin, Neil dodged Kevin’s tackle and made a break for it.

“NEIL!”

Everyone was staring at them. 

Neil didn’t dwell on this. There was no point. In the matters of life and death there was only you and the mean of survival. For Neil, that meant getting to the other side of the court and into the goalies post as fast as possible.  

A jump over some fallen exy balls, running in zig zags through his teammates, a mad dash to the goal-- 

“Andrew!” Neil called, breathless, coming closer to him. Andrew was there, watching the entire chaos unfold, and making no effort to help him. Neil slowed down.

A fatal mistake.

A hard body collided with him, tumbling them both down to the court, with Neil face-planting right at Andrew’s feet.

“Got you, you shitty little gremlin.” Kevin spoke menacingly in French.

One moment Neil was wheezing and gasping for air, and in the next, the body was suddenly off of him. Neil took the opportunity to turn on his back.

Andrew had grabbed Kevin and lifted him off Neil and was now leveling a severe gaze at him. For once, Kevin ignored the threat Andrew posed in favor of the one Neil had.

Neil slowly grinned up at him, and responded in French. “Gay history, huh?”

Kevin made to lunge at him again but Andrew put his arm out and stopped it. 

“What the hell is going on?” Dan demanded. 

“Kevin and Neil both messing around during practice?” Allison peered down at them, haughty, but curious. “I have to know what’s going on. Come on, tell us the drama.” 

Renee put a placating hand on Allison’s arm and put herself in the middle between the three around the goal and the rest of the foxes. Her smile was kind but her voice was firm. “Their business is their business. You all should know that by now.”

“We know that,” Matt protested, who was looking very bewildered right now. It’d be comical if only Neil weren’t facing Death By Not-So-Heterosexual-Kevin right about now. “But come on! We can’t help being curious. Exy is like their life blood, they never do this.”

“Some things are more important than exy,” Kevin gritted out. A shocked silence filled the court.

“Holy shit.” someone whispered. Neil was too focused on Kevin’s deepening scowl to investigate.

“Do you think this has anything to do with what Kevin was talking about at Eden’s?” Nicky loudly whispered to Aaron, who shrugged. 

“What happened at Eden’s?” asked Allison. 

“Nothing,” stressed Kevin.

“Nothing, huh?” Neil snorted. 

“You stay quiet.”

Neil opened his mouth to tell Kevin to fuck off but just as he was doing so Wymack burst in.

“What the actual fuck is going on here? Dan, Kevin, Neil, explain. Right now.”

Before Dan or Kevin could speak, Neil took his chance. “Kevin accidentally sent me his history essay this morning instead of his teacher. It was a 7 page analysis on the gay relationship between Mehmed and Rabu III, the brother of Vlad the Impaler, and how historians continuously overlook their affair due to heteronormativity.”

“Excuse me,” Nicky cut in. “What.”

Neil shrugged and waved his harm towards Kevin dramatically. “Not-so-heterosexual-Kevin is real.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes at him. “I never said I was heterosexual. Just that is was easier.”

“So, like, you’re what? Are you bi?” Allison asked. 

“Smooth.” 

“Hush, Dan. I need answers.”

“Same,” Nicky agreed.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Me being bisexual has nothing to do with the game. Leave it alone and get back to practice. A year later and I’m still disappointed in your subpar playing.”

“Hey now, you can’t just write an entire essay on the gay affairs of royalty figures, drop that bisexual bomb, and then tell us to drop it!”

“I can, and I will, Nicky.”

“And I don’t have enough whiskey for all this,” Wymack said. He had his hand covering his face as if that’d protect him from the stupidity he was surrounded by.

Suddenly, Nicky grinned. “Dark Kevin, tell us all how gay history really is.”

Kevin sighed. He looked to the ceiling as if the heavens could save him and then closed his eyes. “Everything. Everything is fucking gay.”

#all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andriel #the foxhole court #aftg

[nekojitachan]

More Raven!Neil! This is coming on in in bits and pieces, but sooner or later I’ll have a complete chapter which means I’ll HAVE to start writing the thing properly.

Andrew POV for now (probably because most of H4 is Andrew POV).

*******

Andrew thought it had been tiring enough, dealing with Kevin back in June when he’d discovered Riko’s little stunt with the district switch and everything, with the Foxes finding out that they’d be facing the Ravens on the court that season. Dealing with the coward swinging back and forth between ‘we’re not good enough’ and fighting with the rest of the rejects as he struggled to make the Foxes into some sort of team ‘worthy’ of their Class I Exy status – fighting literally with Boyd and Gordon most days, to the point that Andrew was getting rather annoyed with having to remind those two morons about his ‘don’t touch’ rule.

Not even Kevin’s little shadow, Mitchell, could put him in a good mood, not when Kevin spent half his time griping about Mitchell’s lack of skill, about how he wasn’t learning fast enough. There’d been the failed attempt at joining in on the late night practices on the kid’s part, until he’d shown up twice the next morning with his arms blown out and Wymack had put his foot down.

A pissy Kevin was almost as bad as a sniveling Kevin, which was still better to the almost catatonic Kevin staring at the computer screen in Wymack’s office just then; the old man had called Kevin in after they’d finished their morning workout, something about the Raven’s finally announcing their season’s line-up – something about a new striker.

Andrew gave Wymack a flat look as he went around the man’s large desk, deliberately reaching out to push over a precariously stacked pile of folders along the way, to see what it was that had set off the coward that time – what, had they managed to recruit Knox from the Trojans? “This better be worth the effort, I want to wash off,” Andrew warned as he came over to stand beside Day.

Kevin didn’t say anything, he just made an abortive motion at the screen with his right hand, so it was Wymack who spoke. “I just found out a few minutes ago myself. All I knew was that they’d recruited someone but had asked the ERC to keep the name quiet until today, something about avoiding unwanted attention so the kid could focus on training. But they had to release it today because of the line-up for the game.”

Wymack had pulled up the player’s profile and stats, which were displayed on the screen, and Andrew found a rare jolt of surprise flaring inside of him as he looked upon a mostly familiar visage – mostly because unlike back in Millport, Neil Josten now sported striking pale blue eyes instead of insipid brown and bright auburn hair neatly trimmed along the sides with the longer strands falling into loose curls down his forehead instead of a dark unruly mess. The changes didn’t stop there, either – there was a black ‘4’ tattooed high on his left cheekbone and a deliberate blankness to his expression that the rattled yet defiant runner hadn’t possessed back in the locker room.

“Huh, the rabbit grew wings rather than become a fox, how interesting.” Andrew pulled on a grin as he poked a still silent Kevin in the side of his face, right against the ‘2’ tattoo. “Guess he was serious about not playing with you.”

Hmm, it was also interesting how Kevin didn’t smack his hand aside or yell at him, he just flinched and closed his eyes as if to block out some horrible sight. “You still in there?” Andrew taunted.

“He….” Kevin finally spoke as he opened his eyes, his complexion waxy as he motioned again at the monitor. “He joined the Ravens.” Somehow that sounded more like a question than a statement.

Wymack frowned as he nodded, busy righting the pile of folders that Andrew had knocked over but not bitching about the fact, which was oh so telling. “They’re not giving out much information, just that he spent the summer training with them and he’s on the starting line-up.” His frown deepened when Kevin flinched again. “Guess you were right about the kid having talent.”

“Yeah.” Kevin swiped his right over his face as he laughed, the sound quiet and strained. “Yeah, he does. Uhm, I’m gonna… I gotta shower and get to class.” Then he was moving out of the office in a hurry, which left Andrew and Wymack alone.

“Okay, that was fucked up,” Wymack said after a slight pause. “I expected him to be angry at Edgar Allen for swiping his pick, not that.”

Andrew quietly agreed, but he didn’t say anything, just knocked over another stack of folders before he left, which finally made Wymack curse him out. He found Kevin in the showers, but the man was quiet and didn’t say anything to him as they washed off and went to their classes.

Good at biding his time, at knowing when to exert minimum effort for maximum reward, Andrew let it go for the moment, content to allow others do some of his work for him, to let Kevin stew for a while longer and for things to build. Because word soon got out that Neil Josten had ‘gone over’ to the Ravens, and it wasn’t pretty when that happened.

Gordon was smug as fuck, which just reinforced that he’d been behind the leak in the first place. Wilds and Boyd were pissed off, furious at the Moriyamas for snatching up what should have been the Foxes’ recruit, Mitchell was indignant that people were talking about the player who’d turned his back on the Foxes rather than him, the guy who’d signed on with the team, and Nicky egged them all on, the moron. It got to the point that Andrew was a few seconds away from locking them in the changing room and pulling the fire suppression system, except Aaron was sitting in the middle of the fucking annoying lot.

That and Renee may have noticed him glancing over at the system and had gotten up at one point to lean against the wall right next to the alarm. She met his flat gaze with a too-sweet smile and held it for several seconds, until he had to look away and still the twitch in his right leg as the damn drugs slowly worked their way out of his system. Just a little longer for the shit to pass through and no more buzzing to pull at his thoughts or emotions, even if he would have to play some stupid game to earn it. Then he could ride out the crash with some alcohol, could use those and the sharp edge of curiosity to push back the nausea and need a little longer.

Answers were so much better than false euphoria, especially when they hurt others more than him.

Wymack had to yell at everyone to stop fighting amongst themselves and to pull their heads out of their asses so they could get ready to beat Breckenridge (Andrew scoffed at that, at how the man never seemed to accept the team for the lost cause that it was). There was some stupid speech which he ignored and soon enough it was time to go out onto court, to listen to the lousy music and cheers and then take the goal for the first part of the game.

At least he had a decent spot to watch the Foxes lose to one of the better Class I teams, to watch Kevin snap out of it for a little while – only to be hampered by Gordon getting into fights as usual, by Mitchell being too tentative and uncoordinated whenever he had the ball. When it came to halftime, they were down three to six.

It didn’t get any better in the second half, when Andrew sat out the game, with Breckenridge taking it five to ten when it was all said and done. Once the Foxes were back in the locker room, Wymack gave his spiel that it was just the start of the season, Wilds went on about how they hadn’t done that bad against a tough opponent while Mitchell apologized for his fuck-ups when Gordon punched a locker and snapped at the kid that the team could do a hell of a lot better if they hadn’t been dragged down by his rookie ass. That led to Boyd shoving Gordon away and even Reynolds yelling at her sometime boyfriend, while Andrew motioned to the others to grab their stuff so they could get ready and leave.

Nicky winced a little at all the yelling but shook his head. “So loud. Really, what did they expect would happen tonight?”

“Especially with the way you play – or don’t play,” Aaron remarked in a deadpan manner as they entered the showers.

“Hey! I didn’t see you trying too hard out there, either,” Nicky complained.

Andrew waited for Kevin to make his usual ‘you both suck and should be ashamed of yourselves’ comment, and arched an eyebrow when the Exy addict merely entered a stall so he could wash off. Even Nicky noticed Kevin’s silence and sent Andrew a look, then hurried into his own stall when Andrew narrowed his eyes.

Kevin spared them a recount of everything they’d done wrong during the game on the drive back to the dorms, where they were staying for once because a certain someone had agreed to go on a television show the next day. A certain someone who was going to stay up all night, rather than Andrew have to put up with dragging him out of bed in a few hours.

Nick and Aaron joined in to have some drinks once they got back, but Andrew watched over Kevin to keep him from doing his usual ‘drink until passed out’ routine; his intent was two-fold in that if the alcoholic managed to drink himself into the usual Friday night stupor, Wymack was going to find him face down in the toilet when he came to pick up his precious media darling – and not from Kevin being hungover, oh no. That and Andrew needed a few brain cells to remain unpickled if he wanted answers.

Him snatching away the almost-empty bottle of vodka from a scowling Kevin was the sign for Aaron and Nicky to go to bed, since they were remaining on campus in the morning. “Either I take it or I smash it over your head,” Andrew told Kevin with a slight smile, which made the coward give up with a muttered curse and sit down at his desk to watch something on his computer instead.

That ‘something’ turned out to be an Exy game, a recording of the Raven’s game from earlier in the night, a game where they’d played UT. There was some irony there, watching Edgar Allen in their black and red uniforms go against UT in their orange and white, a precursor of things to come, so to speak. How nice of Fate to help Andrew out (if he believed in such things).

He went off to brew some coffee, and returned with a mug for him and one for Kevin as well, some whiskey in both to nurse them through the remaining hours until they had to leave for Kathy Ferdinand’s show. The Exy addict appeared riveted by the sight of the players with the numbers ‘1’ and ‘4’ on their backs, with the way they raced across the court. While Andrew held no love at all for the sport, he knew it well enough after the last few years to recognize the skill which Riko displayed, the technical ability behind the seemingly impossible shots, the control in how he flung the ball across the court.

Compared to him, Neil Josten didn’t seem like much – at least not at first. But the kid was fast, damn fast. He could clear the court in a blink of the eye, could make those ten steps count by grabbing the ball and getting the hell out of the opponent’s way before he could be pinned down, aided by long legs for his height and swift feet. He didn’t seem to need to look to know where to throw the ball, either, and he was more than willing to take on opponents bigger than him (basically everyone else on the court) if it got him the ball or the shot.

He wasn’t Kevin, but he worked well with Riko due to that speed and flexibility, that determination and self-sacrifice. Especially when it was clear that he didn’t mind taking the hits and giving up the goals so Riko could shine. During the time that Andrew leaned against the wall and watched the game, Neil had scored one goal to Riko’s three.

“He’s improved,” was all Andrew said.

“He was holding back,” Kevin answered after taking a long swig of Irish coffee. “Maybe not intentionally, but… the Master got it out of him.” That prompted another long swig of coffee.

Andrew gave it a couple of minutes, gave Kevin a little more time to stew, then spoke up. “He’s not the only one holding back, is he?” He shifted forward to stand closer to Kevin. “What did you see in his team photo?”

Kevin’s face became flushed and he paused the game. “I don’t… I should get-“

“No.” Andrew reached out in a flash to snatch away the mug from Kevin’s weak grip, which made the drunk sink back in his chair. “What did you see?” He wanted answers now, especially while Aaron and Nicky weren’t around.

The question provoked a blurry stare from Kevin, who then shook his head. “No, you don’t want to know that, it’s better that you don’t know.”

“I don’t think you understand how we play this game,” Andrew remarked with a mirthless grin while he waved the half-empty mug in the air. “I keep you safe, keep you out of Moriyama hands, and you tell me the truth, among other things. I ask you questions and you tell me no lies. Now, what the hell is going on with Neil Josten, hmm?” Why had the kid reacted so strangely around Kevin? Why had he refused to play with Kevin, yet signed with the Ravens – a no-name rookie with one year behind him?

Kevin moaned a little as he clutched his left hand to his chest while staring at the laptop’s screen with a mix of longing and grief. “It’s… that’s just it, it’s the Moriyamas,” he stressed. “It’s things you don’t want to know.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed upon hearing that. “Oh, but I disagree. They say confession is good for the soul, Day, something a nice Irish boy like you should know. So start confessing.”

There was a quick, longing gaze at the mugs held in Andrew’s hands and then Kevin slumped even more in his chair. “What do you know about Nathan Wesninski?”

That was an odd tangent, wasn’t it? “Nothing,” Andrew answered as he held off on returning the one mug for the moment. “Why?”

Kevin huffed a little and shook his head. “Because he’s Neil’s father – Neil’s real name is Nathaniel Wesninski. I didn’t realize it until I saw the photo of him earlier with the tattoo; he’d changed his appearance back in Millport.”

Why wasn’t Andrew surprised that it wouldn’t be a simple story? “Why would he do that?” he asked as he handed over the coffee, which the coward immediately snatched and finished off in a couple of swallows before he continued with the ‘lovely’ tale of a boy and boring Exy.

“Because… because Nathan Wesninski is also known as the Butcher,” Kevin mumbled as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “He works for the Moriyamas and runs a large criminal empire on the East Coast.”

Oh, now things were getting interesting, weren’t they? “And yet his son is in some shit-hole town in Arizona playing Exy? Elaborate,” Andrew commanded as he sat down on the edge of the desk.

Kevin scowled at the order but wasn’t too drunk to not realize that it was in his best interest to comply. “Because about ten years ago, Nathan brought Nathaniel to the Nest so the Mast- ah,” that time he caught Andrew’s displeased look over the name, “so Tetsuji could evaluate how well Nathaniel played Exy.” His green eyes grew unfocused as he seemed to think back on that time. “Nathaniel played as a backliner then and was really good, so good that Riko and I knew that Mah- uhm, Tetsuji would take him on. Only he never returned because Wesninski’s wife apparently ran off with Nathaniel during the night and several million dollars as well.”

Andrew dwelled on the story for a minute or two while Kevin seemed to drift off into memories or unpleasant thoughts, considering the drawn, pensive look on his face. “So this Wesninski was going to give Tetsuji his son?” Kevin had talked a little about the things that went on at the Nest, about how some of the players such as Moreau were basically indentured servants because their parents had given them to the Moriyamas to pay off debts; Andrew suspected he’d done it more to convince Andrew to keep him from going back there than anything else.

“Yeah.” Kevin shook his head as the mug slipped from his hands. “I think… I think Nathaniel’s a bit like Riko. He can’t take over for Wesninski, so the Master found a use for him.” He frowned as he appeared to think of something. “Was gonna find a use for him. Oh, found him after all, yeah?”

Perhaps found him thanks to the shit Gordon had pulled, was more like it. Andrew had to wonder if ‘Neil’ hadn’t tried run after seeing Kevin, hence his disappearance, and then the Moriyamas had tracked him down thanks to the forum posts.

For a moment Andrew reflected on the possibility of someone having worse luck than him then scoffed. “Whatever, all that matters now is he’s there now. He’s there and you’re here.” He gave Kevin a cold smile as he gestured to the room around them. “He turned you down so he’s not our problem anymore.” As he spoke, he leaned forward. “Or are you under the mistaken belief that this is a halfway house for Raven runaways?”

Kevin stared at him for a couple of seconds before shaking his head. “He can’t… no, he can’t come here.”

“Then shut up already,” Andrew told him before moving to go sit down on the couch; he had enough of Exy for the day.

Kevin resumed watching the game while Andrew split his time between reading a book and watching Day, and amused himself with throwing pillows at the pain in the ass whenever he saw that dark head begin to nod or droop forward. One time he even startled Kevin enough to knock him out of the chair, a rare burst of amusement filling him at the sight of those long limbs flailing and loud curses filling the room.

Soon enough they had to get ready to leave for Raleigh, North Carolina, with Kevin being even more of a surly asshole than normal until they got on the bus where they could sleep for the drive. Andrew managed to get a little rest, and once Kevin hit the studio, he lost the zombie-like effect from too-little sleep to pull on his ‘charming’ fake persona which always made Andrew’s fingers twitch to slide free a knife and cut off that too-bright smile. Yet Kathy Ferdinand seemed to eat it up, to fawn all over Kevin, and soon she and her assistants took him back to get him ‘ready’ for the show.

Andrew wasn’t pleased with having Kevin out of his sight like that, but Kevin said the show was necessary, was important to give the Foxes some positive publicity, to highlight how far they’d come in a season and not let the Ravens overshadow them. To not let Riko win. Like Andrew gave a shit about any of that, especially when he could be in his own bed in Columbia at the moment, instead of sitting in an uncomfortable chair surrounded by a bunch of strangers with Renee on one side and Matt on the other.

At least Kevin was the first guest so they could leave once his interview was taped, though Andrew felt like gagging as he sat through Ferdinand acting like a bitch in heat with the way she kissed up to Kevin, laughing and smiling at everything he said. Andrew fought to sit still, to not get up and walk away, while Renee murmured to him that it would be just a little longer.

Then Ferdinand started in about Riko, about how hard it must be for Kevin to play on a new team without him, to see Riko move on with a new striker and everything. Kevin’s smile became a little strained but he kept his answers for the most part diplomatic (except for a dig at Seth), to attempt to distance himself from Riko and Edgar Allen. Except Ferdinand didn’t seem willing to let it go. She even asked Kevin about the school switching districts, to which Kevin proclaimed no knowledge to their reason why, the liar.

Andrew felt something twist inside of him at the way the woman smiled in anticipation just then, and Renee must have sensed something because she latched on to his right arm while calling out Wymack’s name. “Then I have a treat for you!” Ferdinand all but purred, right before the Edgar Allen’s fight song filled the studio.

*******

So, still have to edit H4. This weekend is REALLY busy, but I’m hoping things get better after Monday.

#tfc #aftg #raven!neil #wip

[willowbird]

Second ask, can I also ask for andriel proposing (not sure who proposes but plsss)

You bet you can lovie 🔪🧡🦊

-----

The woman on the other side of the counter wouldn't stop smiling at him. Usually, when Andrew glared back at unwelcome overtures of friendliness, all smiles dropped and people did better about leaving him the fuck alone. This particular saleswoman was eerily unaffected.

"We just got a new collection in that we haven't had a chance to set up in display case if nothing here has caught your eye," she suggested now, gesturing toward what Andrew assumed was the back room with an even bigger smile on her face. "You seem like a discerning man. Nothing but the best for your special someone, am I right?"

She wasn't wrong, but Andrew was not about to tell her that. The last thing he needed was for her to start cooing or something. This was why he shouldn't have waited for the last minute to do this and should have just ordered the damn thing online.

A part of him was tempted to wait on it just so that he wouldn't have to go through the pain of ring shopping in person, but the only reason he'd waited so damn long was because he kept second-guessing himself when he knew better. He'd first thought of it almost a year ago now when Neil had first signed on with the San Diego Wolverines, putting him on the opposite end of the country. It had been a gut impulse. He'd wanted Neil to have something not just of his but of them. He'd instantly shut down the embarrassingly romantic thought and hadn't allowed himself to think of it again until a few months later when he finally got to see Neil in person for the first time since the week before summer training.

Well, until Neil had to leave after a too-short visit just before summer training. Then it had been all he could think about for weeks. Every Skype call, every text, every glimpse of Neil playing on the tv.

It had even gotten to the point where he had even fucking brought the idea up to Aaron. Yes, Aaron. He'd called him while watching the playback of one of Neil's games just after the little idiot had antagonized both on-court backliners of the opposite team into going after him. He'd ended slammed against the wall then the floor multiple times, but his partner striker had also managed to get three goals while the backliners were distracted. Neil had limped off the court but not before flipping off the other team and the cameras. Once he was led back to the benches, Andrew got to watch as Neil pulled out his phone - likely to type out the text that had been waiting for Andrew when he'd finished up his own game.

It isn't bad. I'll ice it tonight. Promise.

Because Neil knew that Andrew watched at least the highlights of all his games. He knew that Andrew would see the brutal takedown. Would see him hobble off the court. Exy was a violent sport and mild injuries were common enough - but he knew that him goading and then being taken down by two backliners each double his size would worry Andrew. So the first thing he'd done, before even attempting to insist he wasn't too hurt to finish the game, was text him.

Watching Neil get fussed over by the team's medic, Andrew had dialed his brother.

'I think I want to marry him,' he'd said without a greeting.

'No shit, sherlock. About fucking time,' had been his brother's response.

That had been a couple months ago. And he'd put it off. He'd tried not to think about it. Tried to talk himself out of it.

And in the end, here he was, standing in front of a display case of wedding bands and engagement rings at an airport jewelry store while the saleslady smiled at him like he'd just told her he was going to name his firstborn after her.

Andrew checked his watch and sighed, then nodded at her, making a ‘get on with it’ gesture with one hand. He didn’t have long before his flight would be boarding and nothing in front of him was jumping out as being particularly exceptional. He knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers, him having left this to the last minute as he had, but he may as well see all the available options. 

The woman beamed at him in a way that was quickly getting on his nerves, then quickly scurried off. She returned after only a minute or so, carrying a moderately sized black case. “I’ve got to say, this is probably the most stunning collection we’ve had in. I saw it in the catalog and hoped it would be sent to our store, too.” There were maybe twenty rings in total, and he had to admit -- they were more elegant than most of the others on display. Simple with just small details in etching, stone lay, or shaping to set them apart from each other. There was also a variety of metal colors, from yellow gold to rose to platinum and a darker metal Andrew didn’t know enough about jewelry to name. 

Andrew considered all of them carefully, dismissing the flashier styles and the cumbersome solitaires. He had done a little bit of browsing online in between those flashes of panic uncertainty, and he knew Neil. His partner’s taste wasn’t really a factor, as he didn’t exactly have any (his interest in Andrew being the general exception), but his lifestyle was. With that in mind, Andrew said without looking up, “I will also need a matching chain.”

“A chain?”

Andrew ignored her for the time being as he ran his thumb over a dark-metaled band with a single thread of rose gold running through the center. He plucked it out and took a closer look, imagining it on Neil’s hand and diligently blocking out the rush in his chest at the visualization. Right now was the time for a practical mind. He did not have the time to wallow in any emotional repercussions to making this purchase. 

“This one,” he finally said to the saleswoman, showing her the ring and quoting Neil’s size. “And the chain as well.”

“Oh, of course! Excellent choice. I’m sure your sweetheart will love it.”

Andrew grimaced. “Trust me, he is anything but a sweetheart.” If it surprised the woman at all that he was shopping engagement rings for another man she didn’t show it. She only continued to beam at him, chuckling like he’d made some joke instead of a blatant truth. 

Ten minutes later he had a little black velvet box tucked into his pocket as he made his way back to where most of his team was milling about. Static whirred in the overhead and then a smooth female voice announced it was time to board.

"Flight 87 to San Diego is now boarding in Gate G9." 

For once Andrew wasn’t sure if the swooping in his stomach had to do with the upcoming flight or the weight of a future sitting in his pocket.

-----

Andrew had begrudgingly accepted that he enjoyed playing exy now that he was on a professional level and things were more interesting. He liked working together with his defensive line and the other goalie to form themselves into an impenetrable unit, and he even got along with most of his team. Or, at least, he and most of his team had an understanding.

It was an understanding that allowed them to be at the top of the league and give Andrew the space he needed to not feel smothered. They worked together as a team, and Andrew was always invited to their bonding nights. No one pressured him to actually show and when he did decide to participate no one made a big deal of it. He was permitted to interact on his own terms.

It was a good setup, and so he'd already told his team that he wouldn't be there tonight for whatever after-game dinner they had planned. They also knew that he would be returning to Pennsylvania separately, and only two people were stupid enough to ask about why more than once.

The game went about as expected -- in that Neil’s team lost spectacularly but not without putting up a fight. Even though they lost, Andrew could see Neil brimming with bright, furious energy in the last quarter of the game. He was having the fucking time of his life, and every single time he attacked the goal Andrew caught glimpses of his savage grin.

In the end, it wasn't enough, but Neil was still wearing that smile when they all lined up at center court for handshakes. If Andrew held a bit longer and tighter to Neil's hand when it was their turn, no one seemed to notice.

"You were incredible tonight," Neil said to him once all was said and done - the press handled and both teams showered and dismissed. They were walking across the stadium parking lot to where Andrew's rental was parked. Neil exclusively relied on his bike or public transport and Andrew had not been willing to put up with that bullshit while he was in town.

Andrew snorted. "If you ask me to wear my goalie mask during sex I am going to call it quits, junkie. Contain yourself."

"Wait, is that an option?" Neil stopped walking completely and turned sharply toward him, eyes wide.

Unamused, Andrew shot him a look and kept walking without bothering to dignify that bit of stupidity with a comment.

Neil didn't lag behind for long, laughing brightly as he jogged to catch up. "Joking!" he assured as they reached the car. "Of course I'm joking. The mask would get in the way and, if I'm being completely honest - which I try to do these days - I like being able to see your face."

There was once a time when Andrew would have pointedly kept his gaze turned away so he couldn't see the look he knew was on Neil's face at that moment. Or he would have shoved Neil away, nailed him with a scathing remark, distracted him somehow. It hadn't even been all that long ago, not really. He'd been afraid of what that look meant, cautious of the sentiment it implied, panicked at the threat of what might happen if he let Neil in.

Tonight Andrew did not look away. Instead, he turned his head and basked in the light of Neil's eyes like a cat in the sunlight. He met his gaze and soaked him up, let himself settle into that warmth. If Neil was surprised by Andrew's tolerance it didn't show. He just tilted his head and smiled until Andrew finally lifted a hand and shoved his arm just enough to get him moving.

"Get in the car, you maniac. Let's get back to your place."

Neil chuckled but relented without comment and got into the passenger seat. Andrew hadn't even gotten the car started when he felt Neil's gaze on him again, warm and enveloping like hot chocolate in the bitter winter. Again, Andrew turned to look at him. Again, he basked - just a little.

This time, Neil's expression shifted just slightly, the edges of pain tightening around his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Neil's hands curl into fists on his lap.

"I missed you," Neil said quietly, and his voice was tighter than it has been a minute ago. There was a hoarseness of emotion to it that rang in tune with the hollow place in Andrew's own chest.

A hard swallow, then Andrew lifted a hand and cupped Neil's cheek. He brushed his thumb over the scars there, tracing them. He didn't say that he'd missed Neil, too. He didn't say that each day waking up without him near was like waking up without a leg, leaving him aching and frustrated as he had to relearn how to move and function when a vital part of him was too far away to touch. He didn't say... Well, he didn't say anything at all.

Instead, he leaned his forehead against Neil's and took a slow breath in. He waited until he felt Neil do the same, and then they exhaled together, mingling their breaths as proof of their proximity. He felt the warmth of it on his cheeks and another loose and rattling piece inside his chest settled into place. He kissed Neil once, just briefly, on the lips, and then dropped his hand and pulled away to start the car.

-----

Neil's apartment was only a short drive away from the stadium, but traffic dragged it out unnecessarily. They had ordered food ahead of time and swung by the restaurant on the way to pick it up, which added another ten minutes to the drive but it was better than waiting on a delivery. 

Even with the detour for food and the press of traffic slowing them down, the drive itself didn’t actually feel long. Neil carried the conversation, picking up from their last phone call as he talked about his teammates and the strange little hole-in-the-wall diner he’d been frequenting lately or the stupid pictures an overly enthusiastic Matt Boyd had sent him from the pro backliner’s recent trip to the zoo. (“Twelve, Andrew. He sent me twelve pictures of what I’m pretty sure were all of the same ostrich. Ostriches aren’t even that interesting.”)

They split up briefly as they got to Neil’s apartment, Andrew to drop his things off in the bedroom and Neil to unpack the food onto actual plates. Andrew hesitated for only a moment as he parked his suitcase, then crouched before it and unzipped the pocket where he’d stowed the ring. He had no big plan for this. There were no flash mobs waiting around the corner, no puppies with cute ribbon collars, no scheduled flyovers that would drag a banner or write a message in the sky. Andrew didn’t do grand gestures. He did not buy into commercialized love. He also was very aware of who his partner was and knew very well that Neil was the same in that regards. 

Neither of them needed that, wanted it, or - frankly - even understood it.

But Andrew knew that he did want Neil in his life. He knew that he wanted him as his partner. He knew that he wanted him as his husband. It wasn’t something that he and Neil had every really talked about and there was a very real chance that Neil would say no - not because he didn’t want to be with Andrew, because Andrew knew that he did, but because Neil already had an impression of what marriage looked like and it was not a good one. Perhaps if they were different people, with a different sort of relationship, that would have made Andrew table the idea altogether.

But they weren’t other people, and their relationship was theirs and theirs alone. They were Andrew and Neil, not anyone else, and even if he knew nothing else, Andrew knew that even if Neil did not want to marry him, his asking wasn’t going to hurt them.

So he didn’t have any big plans. He hadn’t hired singers or put together a collage of their relationship. He didn’t invite their friends and family or light candles or spread out flower petals. He didn’t even get down on one knee.

Instead, Andrew took that little box in his hand and walked out of the bedroom and directly to the living room where Neil had set their dinner on two tv trays in front of the couch as he fiddled with remote to put on one of their favorite seasons of Hell’s Kitchen. Neil smiled over at him when he heard him coming. 

“Hey, perfect timing. Did you want to start right at the beginning or skip to episode two since we watched the first episode last week? I kinda want to start right at the beginning.”

Andrew shrugged, which Neil took as agreement and turned back to the tv to select the first episode. 

“Pause it for a moment,” Andrew said as he sank onto the couch beside Neil, though he kept his gaze on the frozen flames on the screen even as Neil turned to fully face him. He always did that - always gave Andrew his full and undivided attention even when he had no idea what Andrew wanted to say. For Neil, it was always just enough that Andrew wanted to say anything at all. 

A hiccup of nerves spasmed suddenly and uncomfortably in his chest, but Andrew batted it away. All he was doing was asking a question. Just one more to the hundreds of thousands that he had already asked over the last several years. This question was no different. It meant nothing more and nothing less than any of those other questions. 

So Andrew asked it the same way. 

He turned and met Neil’s eyes, then revealed the box without any particular flourish or grandeur. He watched as confusion smoothed to surprise then understanding as Andrew opened the box to show the ring inside. 

Then he said, “Yes, or no?”

He had meant for the words to be casual and even, but they came out softer than he intended. The hand that held the box was shaking, too - which Andrew only noticed when both of Neil’s hands cupped under it. 

Neil looked from the ring up to Andrew’s face and, like he always seemed to be able to, read more there than anyone ever could. Those blue eyes warmed to summer, his smile turning soft and filled with a sentiment that did not, could not, have a description in any of the languages that Andrew knew. Andrew didn’t know what Neil saw when he looked at him like that. He had never asked and probably never would. He wasn’t sure he was ready to know, wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. 

“Andrew,” Neil said, his voice just as quiet, and Andrew realized he was holding his breath. “You know it’s always yes with you.”

Something terrifyingly wonderful seized Andrew’s chest and squeezed. It dried out his throat and beat heavy drums in the center of his chest. It took too much effort for Andrew to nod his acknowledgement, and his hand was still shaking as he plucked the ring from the box and revealed that it was on a chain. “So you can keep it with you,” he said in explanation, his voice coming out a bit too hoarse. 

“I want to wear it now.” Neil’s voice wobbled. He laughed as they both tried and failed to unlatch the clasp several times before getting it - both of them with hands too shaky to get it on the first try. 

Then Neil was wearing it, and he was smiling, and there was this glow in Andrew’s chest that he didn’t think would ever really fade. 

#asks #100 followers #aftg #andreil #wolfstsrshipper #andrew minyard #neil josten #post-canon #proposal