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jtl-fics · 10 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 29

“Neil, why do you have Smith’s phone?” Andrew asks as the two of them are setting out plates for lunch. Neil startled and looked down at the phone that he had just sat at the table and furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? This is mine?” Neil asks. He knows his phone even if he’s not really the best with them.

The one that Andrew had given him his Freshman year had died after it got run over by the Maserati when Neil left it on the roof of the car by accident. The second one Andrew had gotten him had been destroyed in rather spectacular fashion earlier in the year when he’d had a bit of a freak out on January 19th. The team knew better than to text him on that particular day now but Andrew had said that he’d take custody of his phone this year. Wymack had stepped in with a phone that same day before Andrew could buy him a new one and that phone had been launched at the Baseball captain that summer.

All this to say, Neil is now looking at the phone in concern because it is highly likely he swapped his with FF’s.

“No it’s not.” Andrew sighs and points to a corner, “You cracked yours up here.” He opens the phone and then the contacts and sure enough Neil doesn’t see his own contacts but the ones that Nicky had programmed into FF’s the day before.

“Oh, I guess I switched them at the hospital.” He says with an embarrassed blush. Maybe he should get a little accessory to differentiate his phone from the other ones that Wymack has gotten.

There’s a slight commotion in the kitchen, “Kevin, stop trying to add vanilla protein powder to Smithy’s soup!” Nicky shouts.

“He needs protein to heal properly! That nutritionist might just feed him a loaf of bread since he is using an outdated model!” Kevin argues back.

“Kevin the doctor said clear soup also do you want to make Smiths sick? Vanilla protein powder and chicken broth?” Aaron asks disgust evident.

“I’d use unflavored but this is all that’s in the house and I am not going shopping until this weekend is over.” Kevin argues back.

“Smiths went out shopping on Black Friday and came back unscathed. He even went out into the worst of it just to get some groceries for baking and breakfast.” Aaron says with a huff.

“He still got stabbed!” Kevin returns.

“Kevin, he was definitely not grocery shopping when he got stabbed.” Nicky shoots back.

“He needs-“

“Przywiążę cię do krzesła.” Neil hears Smith’s Grandma cut Kevin off. Her tone is so sweet just like it has been the last couple times she has interrupted an argument between them all. She really has warmed up to them since Andrew confessed.

Nicky lets out a loud bark of laughter.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, cutting onions make me laugh.” Nicky returns quickly.

Kevin walks out of the Kitchen with the same gooey expression he’s gotten every time Smith’s Grandma has said something sweet to him but considering how often and how hard Nicky laughs at what she says he wonders if she’s just sassing him in a sweet tone.

He really needs to pick up a phrase book.

He might like her even more if his theory is correct.

“It shouldn’t be a big problem.” Neil says but he is a bit more careful as he moves FF’s phone away from where it could get damaged. “Smith is definitely asleep. He looked really tired.” Neil says and it twists his own stomach to think about how FF looked in his hospital bed. FF wouldn’t take anything more than the bare minimum when it came to pain medication.

Each “I’m fine.” He gave had him coming to a deeper and deeper understanding of how frustrating it is to have someone who is CLEARLY not fine say they are.

“I’m more concerned about who might text you.” Andrew says.

Neil shrugs, “Ichirou is more the type to just show up.” Because it’s true. Every time he’s met Ichirou there had been very little warning.

Andrew frowns but then Nicky is coming out with lunch. It was nothing fancy but a home cooked meal always made Neil feel warm. Smith’s grandma had just been using what was in their pantry so far but the two other meals (and her pie) had been amazing.

“Lunch is ready. We’ll head back to the hospital afterwards to see when Smithy can get discharged.” Nicky says putting a large bowl of pasta in the center of the table. Aaron came out a moment later with the Parmesan shaker and the protein powder bottle.

“Here you go Kevin, add as much as you want to your own meal.” Aaron says in a sweet tone just like Smith’s Grandma.

“Eat shit Aaron.” Kevin scowls now knocked out of his gooey expression as fills his plate with pasta and reaches for the Parmesan.

Neil can’t help but let out a puff of laughter at the interaction and lets the worry of being away from his phone slide away. FF was sleeping, he was safe, and Ichirou had not expressed any interest in talking to him.

“Pass that to me when you’re done.” Neil asks pointing at the Parmesan as he fills his and Andrew’s plates.

***

There had been a plan.

Nathaniel Wesninski was supposed to be at this hospital at least according to his cell phone location. His future investment was not the best at keeping that device on him though so he was willing to wait when there were no signs of the Wesninski. There would, of course, be a cost for his patience. He had his men go seek out the uninvolved civilian. If Wesninski came back and found his friend threatened due to his lackadaisical nature with his phone perhaps he’d remember to keep it on him.

Except now that very uninvolved civilian is sitting in front of him. The ’Smith’ that Wesninski had spoken of.

He sees Wesninski’s phone sat on the table and his eyes go back to the young man in front of him. He wonders if this was some ploy by Wesninski, some statement. This young man in front of him took out one of the Butcher’s top men on his own.

He’d confirmed it when he’d gone to see Jackson earlier that day. He went to remind them what would happen if they tried to turn over anything to the Federal agents and to see how two of his biggest headaches had been taken out so suddenly.

Jackson talked about how Wesninski’s friend hadn’t seemed surprised to find him in the alley, had seemed like he had been expecting it and how swiftly he had been taken out. Wesninski’s guard dog had gone out afterwards and they’d lead Romero into a trap that resulted in his arrest and this civilian swearing up and down that Romero was the one that stabbed him even though Romero asserts that he never had a firm grip on the knife.

A great way to ensure he was held by the police while they were fully investigated. They wouldn’t have much time to investigate either of the Butcher’s remnants. Ichirou was only offering the choice between something painful or something easy.

The young man in front of him offered nothing, waiting for Ichirou to begin the talks. His expression clearly showing that he’d happily wait Ichirou out as if he was long used to tense silences. There is no doubt that this man in front of him knows exactly who he is but he still has the audacity to wait him out.

“Where is Wesninski?” He tightens his fist at having to ask first.

“That’s not Captain Neil’s last name anymore.” FF returns with the first hint of expression on his face being a frown.

The first piece of information given. So, loyal to Nathaniel and not to the Wesninski line. Loyal to Captain Neil.

“Captain Neil is getting lunch.” He answers, “I’m the only one here for you to talk to right now.” He adds after a moment putting his hands on the table.

Ichirou can understand what isn’t being said.

“Does, Josten, realize you’re here?” He asks taking care to use Wesninski’s new last name knowing he wouldn’t get his answers otherwise. He has a hard time imagining the man who was so loyal to his friends purposefully leaving this one to act as defense for him.

Wesninski had been very clear during his brief phone conversation with him, “Smith was just caught up in all of this. He’s not a threat to you Lord Moriyama.” He had said voice steady and without a hint of a lie.

“In the hospital? Of course.” He returns, “Down here talking to you? He’ll probably be upset.” he says after a moment.

“And yet, you’re here.” He says mirroring the man’s own relaxed posture.

Loyal but willing to do something that might displease the one he is loyal to if it would keep them safe. Ichirou stops himself from looking to his left where his most loyal man stood. Connor had stepped in front of threats he hadn’t seen coming plenty of times, had questioned him even when Ichirou had threatened to cut out his tongue for it, and had always had the courage to look Ichirou in the eye when he explained himself no matter how injured he was or how irate Ichirou was.

It’s something rare and it seems like it is something Wesninski has found unknowingly.

“Yes, I’m here to talk about Friday night.” He says, “I assume you’ve already spoken with Romero and Jackson.” He says moving the conversation away from Wesninski. Bringing Ichirou’s attention and possible ire to himself.

A truly rare find in his world.

“Yes, let’s talk about Friday night.” He agrees.

***

What was it about the Smith family and making great food?

It was just a simple combination of canned tomatoes, butter, pasta, onions, cheese, spices and garlic but it had Neil going for a third serving. Smith’s Grandma had really made enough to feed an army and when he’d commented Nicky had just reached over and tried to pinch his cheek fat only for his fingers to find little to grab onto, “You’re too thin! Eat more!” He exclaimed before repeating it to Smith’s Grandma in Polish who nodded earnestly.

Wymack was at the table after he took a shower. Kevin was still trying to convince Aaron of all people that he should be allowed to put protein powder into the clear soup that was simmering on the stove top for FF. The dietary restrictions someone faced while they were healing from stomach surgery was no joke.

The other Dealer had dropped despite Wymack and Neil’s best attempts to get Lisa to stay. Seemed determined to head back to her small town and rejoin the family cult she had escaped from. He’d been worried about her going home but she had insisted she’d be back.

It was unfortunate but it was also Lisa’s choice.

His stomach twists wondering if FF is going to go back to Washington with his Grandma when he gets released. There had barely been a whisper of danger from Neil’s past since Ichirou had put that bullet in Riko’s head and now one of his few friends that had been entirely uninvolved in that nightmare was in the hospital because of him.

Andrew elbows him.

Neil turns to look and Andrew is carefully putting a penne pasta on each prong of his fork, “I can hear you worrying.” He says in Russian.

“What if Smith leaves?” He responds back in the same language.

“He has the right to.” Andrew shrugs and shoves the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t want him to.” Neil admits, FF is a friend. A good friend.

“He still can leave even if you don’t want him to.” Andrew says as he proceeds to once again put a penne pasta on each of his fork’s prongs. “I don’t think he will though.” He adds before shoving his fork into his mouth again.

Neil blinks, “Why?” He asks.

FF isn’t like how Neil was his Freshman year, he’s steady and sure but Neil wouldn’t blame the Freshman if ‘possibly being killed off by remnants of my Captain’s crime family’ is a step too far for FF. Wouldn’t blame FF if he runs.

“He still calls you Captain Neil.” He says reaching over and squeezing Neil’s knee with his hand.

Neil blinks.

He thinks.

FF laid out on the concrete as Andrew worked to stem the blood from his stab wound, “It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” He exclaims ready to make a joke even as he’s bleeding because of a situation Neil’s existence put him in.

FF still floating from the initial large amount of pain medication he was on pulling on Neil’s sleeve, “I’m glad you’re okay Captain Neil.” Before falling back into his drugged sleep.

FF’s eyes softening as Neil offered to get a nurse to give him more pain medication, “Really Captain Neil, I’m fine.” He says.

He lays his own hand over Andrew’s.

“I guess he does.” He offers a small tentative smile.

“Eat your pasta Junkie.” Andrew says in English now.

“You’re too thin!” Nicky reminds him and Smith’s Grandma must have picked up on the terminology since she nods earnestly in agreement as the two of them were packing up leftovers and the soup Smith’s Grandma had made for him so they could head back to the hospital to keep FF company.

***

“Why did you go out into the alley?” Ichirou asks.

“Isn’t it better that I was in the alley?” The man across from him asks with a raised brow, as if Ichirou was asking a strange question. “If I had stayed in the club, who knows what would have happened or how many people would have been hurt.” He explains without Ichirou needing to lower himself to asking.

There’s truth to that.

It’s been on the news that the remaining Wesninski inner-circle had been captured but since there’d only been one injury it had been largely overshadowed by news regarding the mass injury incidents surrounding Black Friday. If Romero had started had gotten the general public involved this would be much harder for him to silence the ones involved.

Still…

“This has caused me quite a bit of trouble. It does not look good that I am not the one who found them.” He says because there’d been talks from some of the old men he had yet to rid himself of from his Father’s time. They had wanted the remaining Wesninski men to be brought back into the fold but there was little chance of that happening now. Ichirou planned on disposing them after showing that they were worthless and using it as an excuse to start removing some of the dead weight from his father’s time.

Ichirou was not a man who tolerated incompetence.

“Isn’t it better that they were taken into custody like this?” The man across from him asks, “They were some of the Butcher’s best from what Captain Neil has told me. The fact that it only resulted in me going to the hospital and they were taken out by Andrew and I is one of the better outcomes.” He says.

Ichirou pauses and considers it.

The two men that those relics had wanted for their ‘competence’ and ‘ability’ had been taken out in a way that showcased what Ichirou had thought of them. They were sloppy, they were over-confident, and worst of all they were incompetent.

“Before I forget.” Smith says and his hand goes to the bulge in his jacket pocket.

Ichirou can feel Conner tense behind him and he wonders where this had gone wrong or how the conversation had broken down but he doesn’t have long to wonder about it as Smith pulled something out that was unmistakable as a toy with it’s bright yellow coloring. Smith sets it on the table between them and Ichirou cannot help the confusion that must show on his face despite his many years of training to keep his face blank.

“What is that?” Conner asks sounding utterly bewildered behind him.

“I used this to temporarily blind Jackson during our fight. I figure it would be useful evidence for you.” Smith says.

He hears a bark of laughter to his right as Michael reaches for the toy.

Useful evidence indeed.

It would be easy to show this as a sign that those relics could hardly be trusted to have an opinion in how he ran his empire. Those men they so prized taken out by a children’s toy.

This has gone to his benefit.

“So it would seem.” He finally says, “I will make sure to reward your assistance.” He says wanting a stronger hold over the man in front of him, a tie of some sort to the Moriyama family.

Smith shakes his head in the negative. “I didn’t do anything noteworthy. Whatever it is should go to Captain Neil.” He argues.

Rare find indeed.

“It will be done.” He says and figures with the additional cash flow eliminating the search for the Wesninski men, the removal of his father’s hanger-ons, and the blood he can squeeze from the family Romero and Jackson had intended to go to ( a supposedly allied family) he could more than afford to drop what his three Exy investments owed him as a percent.

His eyes shift over to Smith across from him and finds that he was even more willing to lower those percentages if he could not only drop the dead weight of his father’s empire but perhaps gain someone useful. “Still, I like to reward those who have directly benefitted me. We will take care of any and all hospital fees related to this incident.” He looks to his right and Michael nods.

Smith’s face doesn’t give much away, his pokerface was quite exceptional.

“Thank you." He accepts and says nothing else so Ichirou decides to make his offer.

“I have heard that you are studying languages.” He says.

“I am.” Smith says.

“Which ones do you know?” He asks.

Smith blinks, surprised by the question, “Fluently? French, German, Spanish, Polish, Dutch, Italian, R-“ he pauses and shakes his head, “Recently, I’ve been studying Japanese, Chinese, and some Korean.” He says strangely stumbling over a word for the first time this entire conversation.

A useful skill.

“If you ever find yourself looking for work,” Ichirou snaps his fingers and Conner had a card in his hand in an instant, consider reaching out.” He says before he offers it with both hands and is pleased when Smith accepts it with a slight bow before taking it with both hands. “I see you are also studying the etiquette.” He adds.

Smith looks up from the business card and he looks paler but Ichirou chalks it up to the fact that bowing slightly with his current stomach status likely hurt far more than he had let on. “If you don’t know the etiquette you only know half of the language.” He says and Ichirou quite likes the sentiment.

“Tell Josten that I no longer need to speak with him. Our conversation was satisfactory.” Ichirou says as he rises to his feet.

“I will do that…Lord Moriyama.” Smith says bowing his head politely.

***

The sight of Ichirou Moriyama was always going to be one that made Neil nervous.

The only good thing about seeing him right now was that Kevin had gone with Coach and Aaron in a separate car so that the two of them could continue their argument about protein powder in FF’s soup and Andrew had snagged a spot up front while Coach would have to park farther back.

“Lord Moriyama, I did not expect to see you here.” He greets head down and he almost goes to his knees if it wouldn’t have attracted the sort of attention that Ichirou hated from the public. He just hopes that Andrew isn’t scowling and that Nicky and Smith’s Grandma can keep quiet.

“Perhaps if you kept your phone with you then my appearance would not be such a surprise.” Ichirou comments idly, “Though I suppose I did have a very beneficial conversation with Smith. Quite a bright young man you have as a friend.” He compliments and Neil’s head shoots up in surprise at it.

Ichirou had spoken with FF.

FF who was fading in and out of consciousness.

“I have faith that he will not reveal anything.” Ichirou adds and Neil clenches his fist and wants desperately to ask what happened. Wants to know what state he’s going to find his friend in. “I have not done anything to harm him, you are lucky to have a…friend like that.” Ichirou says as if physical damage was the only thing that Ichirou Moriyama was capable of.

“Yes Lord Moriyama, he is a very talented and skilled defenseman.” He says hoping that if nothing else Ichirou’s desire for Neil and Kevin’s future profitability would have him reconsider doing anything in the future to FF to ensure they would have good showings for the professional teams.

“Yes, he was quite talented in your defense.” Ichirou nods, “I will reach out with details of our new deal once some affairs have settled. Take care of your friend, Josten.” Ichirou says before continuing out of the hospital.

New Deal?

Neil banished the thought from his head. They needed to get up to FF’s room and he needed to make sure his friend was okay and find out what exactly had happened.

Andrew’s hand came to the back of his neck and squeezed, “Calm down.” Andrew ordered voice soothingly blank even if Neil could feel the way his grip stuttered. “Let’s go.”

***

The Nurses were saying something about ‘aggravating stitches’ and ‘lucky nothing tore’ but it was all white noise to FF as he continues to think about the business card burning a hole in his pocket.

Ichirou Moriyama.

He’d just had an entire conversation with Ichirou Moriyama.

His stomach was already hurting from his ill advised walk but the moment he’d seen that name on the business card he had accepted his insides had been pure acid. He missed his Pepto Bismol more than anything right now, what he would give for just a single hit of the sweet pink relief.

He couldn’t figure out what was worse.

The fact that he had given over EVIDENCE to the head of a Yakuza group (was it a yakuza group or was it a mafia group?).

The fact that he’d been right in his thoughts from the abyss that the man in the cafeteria looked like a Yakuza member (was it a Yakuza or Mafia?).

The fact that he’d just seen a Japanese guy and thought ‘Oh, must be the Japanese FBI guy I’m supposed to talk to’ which means he’d still been kind of racist.

The fact that he just realized that he had Captain Neil’s phone and not his own meaning that Ichirou had been telling Captain Neil to come to the cafeteria and FF just showed up like a dipshit trying to pitch their lie about the alley.

Finally there was the fact that Ichirou Moriyama had apparently been impressed enough to offer him a spot within his Yakuza group (Yakuza or Mafia?)

Would it be weird to ask during the interview process? Is there an interview process to join organized crime? Do they have benefits? Wait a crime family is paying for his hospital stay right now. This is too much.

He considers asking the nurse to yes please crank up the pain killers and just let him slip into a nice not embarrassing coma but then Captain Neil and Andrew were rushing into his room. “Smith!” Captain Neil exclaims.

Well, too late to ask for that coma.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

@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 @themundanemudperson @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 @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas @theoneandonlylostsock @cindersapsecrets @scornedethnographer @hugemotherfuckingnerd @givemethedamnflowers

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?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

Polish in this chapter:

Przywiążę cię do krzesła = I will tie you to a chair

#Fluent Freshman AU #MAN that was a long one #Also just like having to build that misunderstanding took forever #I need a nap #which is to say that I'm going to bed since it's 2 AM #Not pictured is Michael pointing the McDonald's Happy Meal Toy at Conner and pulling the trigger #And Conner going Shit that's bright #And Michael now has to drive the car #The Moriyama men who were looking for Smith absolutely got a talking to #Like a man of THAT caliber got within spitting distance of Lord Moriyama? Unacceptable #Just be grateful he wanted to TALK.#Also not pictured is Kevin and Aaron continuing that argument in the car as Kevin tries to rope Aaron in #to making the perfect protein supplement for Smith's recovery #Kevin is thankfully so focused on this that he just flat out misses that they parked like four cars away from where Ichirou Moriyama is #Neil may Velcro his phone to him now.#Man can you imagine Neil having his Josten Jorts(tm) and he's added a velcro strip to all of them #Andrew just looking on like yeah I still think he's hot and sighing to himself #This is where you've laid your affections Andrew #DEAL WITH IT #Alright it's like 2:20 AM after doing the tags and @-ing everybody #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #FF - Pt. 29

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antheiasvase · 11 months

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Andreil says the big L ;)

ALSO POSTED ON AO3!! (link below)

It's quiet. It's always quiet these days. So serene it's almost sickening, like an unfinished peach pit sinking slow to the bottom of his stomach.

He stares out of the rain soaked window, book dipping downwards in his lazy hands. His fingers itch for something to do, picking at the pages, flicking at his fraying sweater, teasing at the tags of his cushions.

He's restless, he knows. He's waiting. For something, anything. A declaration, a speech, a symphony. Just something. He's tired of the known. So used to spending his days in a haze, the clarity of his mind leaves him dizzy and desperate for anything to dull down his nerves.

His phone begins to ring, an annoying screeching sound playing the chorus of Lover, You Should've Come Over, in an awkward stilted way. He knows who it is, he remembers when they had painstakingly figured out how to program it, the phone clunky an awkward in his bandaged hands. Andrew had laughed then, a small huff, when he had excitedly called him, so pleased, like the cat who got the cream, when he had finally figured it out.

That was before all the travelling, the distance, the gap that felt unreachable between two souls which had once known each other so deeply but now could barely stand to speak a few words before descending swiftly into silence.

Despite knowing how this conversation would go, Andrew still reached out, still desperate to hear his voice, desperate for his laugh, desperate for the minute escape from the sickening quiet of his empty apartment, desperate for the comforting silence from his lover.

He couldn't do without it.

"Neil," He breathed when he picked up, clutching the phone in both hands.

He heard the hitched breath on the other line, before they spoke, "Andrew," He whispered, he sounded like he was hunched over the the phone. Andrew could imagine him, curled close, under his covers which were pulled over his crimson curls, providing a cocoon of privacy for their conversation.

"I've missed you," Neil said, he sounded quiet, oh so quiet. A whisper on the breeze of life.

"As you should," Andrew lightly teased, immediately regretting the words as they slipped, unprompted from his tongue, wishing he could swallow them back and replace them with something much sweeter, dripping, 'I missed you too,'s like syrup from his lips.

Syrup slow, and tense silence expanded and made herself comfortable following his comment.

Neil hesitated, but laughed softly, despite this Andrew could hear him swallow. Andrew wished he could see him, he could always read his expression, and understand, but over the phone, it was as if a brick wall had been built up slowly between the two, and despite his shattered bones and bruised knuckles, Andrew wasn't able to punch through the wall.

Andrew cleared his throat, "I do too. Miss you. That is," It sounded awkward and uncomfortable, and mentally Andrew berated himself.

"I know that," Neil said, this time, Andrew could detect some form of pleasure in his tone, pleased that Andrew missed him too, as if Andrew could not miss him. Andrew missed him in every moment apart, every breath he breathed that was not mingled with Neil's own exhaled sigh, every cigarette he smoked not lit by Neil's spare lighter, every exy game he couldn't look to Neil and smile triumphantly as Neil cheered at their win.

"You should," Andrew said, softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He heard Neil move slightly on the other side of the call, as if he flipped onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Yeah," Neil muttered back, and Andrew clenched his eyes shut, so tight spots danced like every memory he has ever had with Neil in his vision. They flitted through his brain like a slideshow, up until when Andrew left for the true adult life of taxes and jobs and the slide show slowed to split seconds, stolen at airports, mere hours in between practices, budget airlines, and clenched fists on arm rests.

"I-" Neil faltered, and sighed, "Never-mind,"

Andrew picked up where he left the tentative attempt at a conversation, "How was practice?" While he loathed exy, in its every inexcusable shape and form, it was safe. A blanket that Neil could cover himself with and talk about till even he tired from the topic.

He could feel Neil grin, "It was good, uh, the newer kids are still shy, surprisingly, a few stand out but most are quite secluded. It's just me and Robin left, from the old foxes you know, and we're keeping the team together quite splendidly, I think Robin is a little sad, considering the year is almost over for me, but Wymack told me that he's officially upgrading her to Team Captain next year. I thought it was obvious, but he said, considering Robin's character, he figured she'd prefer some official confirmation," Neil rambled.

"He would be right," Andrew interjected, he leaned onto the couch, arm resting on the back.

"I suppose," Neil said, "Either way, there's nothing really interesting going on here, preparing for the finals, and such."

"You prepared well?" Andrew asked, toying once again with a thread from his top.

"Somewhat, we'll see how it goes. It's not like I'll do anything with this degree so I'm not all too worried,"

"Been scouted yet?" Andrew said, he could feel the mood slip slightly in the call, but he bit his lip and waited for Neil's answer.

"A few offers, here and there," Neil said vaguely, "I'm going out to check out a potential team in the weekend. I'm not sure yet, but it might be it,"

Andrew felt a tightness begin to coil at the base of his ribs. He could already see how it would play out, Neil would move, far and far and farther away and soon the phone calls will dwindle to a text every two weeks.

"That's good," Andrew muttered, clenching his fist tightly around a poor defenceless cushion.

"Yes," Neil said, somewhat hesitantly, "It's good,"

Silence fell once again. As expected.

"Neil-" Andrew began to say.

"I have to go," Neil suddenly interrupted, "I just heard a crash from Robin's room," The phone call ended, abruptly and on time with the dread that poured out of every pore in Andrew's body.

⭐️

Saturday practices were the worst, Andrew determined as he trudged across the field, heading back to the locker rooms. He felt disgusting, sweaty and gross, the strikers had been eager to prove themselves, some rumours had been circulating about upcoming transfers in the next season and as it was already confirmed that one of their senior strikers was retiring, the subs were desperate to show that they were ready to take on the tasking position.

Andrew wished they had gone a little easier. He hadn't slept since Neil and his call, and he'd been too apprehensive to call back afterwards. His whole body felt muted, and slow, like a mound of rotting flesh piled on top of his cracking and badly taped together skeleton. He sighed. He did that a lot lately.

"Minyard," He heard their coach call out to him, "Join me in my office for a second," For a moment Andrew considered turning away and going to shower instead, but in a rare display of obedience he found himself walking towards their coach's office. She was a harsh woman, with an even harsher last name to fit the bill, Coach Sauvage, Neil had thought it hilarious when Andrew first told him, as he stumbled over the pronunciation. She was half French and tended to cuss her team out in the vicious language when they pissed her off with their idiocy.

Andrew stepped in, glad for the air-conditioning, it was boiling hot outside. She sat down at her desk, her hands folded neatly over one another, and she pointed her fierce look upon him.

"You may sit," She said gesturing to the plastic chair across her desk. Andrew sat and began unstrapping his protective gear and dropping it to the floor as she began to speak.

"As you know, Richie is retiring out this season, and the role will be filled with one of the strikers we have, however this will leave an empty place in our striker roster. I was more interested in having some new blood contracted, rather than transfer in a more experienced player. However, in this special case, I felt it was more important to speak with you first." She paused and stared at him.

Andrew stared back, thinking about the relieving shower he would have after this dull conversation was over. "How exactly does this pertain to me?" He asked, she seemed amused at his question.

"I'm thinking of contracting Neil Josten, an old teammate of yours from college." She said. Andrew sat up a tad straighter, his eyes slightly wide. He thought back to his conversation with Neil,

I'm going out to check out a potential team in the weekend. I'm not sure yet, but it might be it.

"I know you two had some sort of rivalry back in college, so I need to know if this will or won't mess up the climate in the team. So far you've adjusted well, and I was hoping we could keep you for a while longer. That's why I first wanted to make sure you were okay with this. I would like to remind you however, you should perceive this as more of a fore-warning as it is very unlikely, unless under some extreme circumstance, that my mind will be changed if you happen to make an argument as to why he should not join the team," She said.

"He's here?" Andrew said instead,

"He arrived a few hours ago to watch practice, as it is most likely he will be signed I wanted him to meet the team,"

Andrew stood, abandoning his gear and rushing out of the office, he heard some loud conversation coming from the locker rooms and headed that way, knowing that Neil would most likely be there.

He banged open the door, and there he was. He was standing by the benches, speaking with Richie the retiring striker.

"Josten," He said, he knew he stumbled over the word in his rush to get Neil to notice him. He felt a light flush rise to his ears.

"Andrew," Neil said, taking a few steps towards him. Andrew met him halfway, and in front of the eyes of his entire team he pulled Neil, his Neil, his Junkie, into a tight hug. Neil seemed to sigh into the contact, sagging into his arms, like a lax puppet on strings.

"I missed you, I missed you," Andrew mumbled into his hair, quiet as a church mouse, solemn as a hymn, sincere as a prayer.

"I know," Neil whisper back, one hand twisted into the nape of Andrew's neck, his blonde hair tugged so tight it almost burned, the other curled into the small of his back.

He heard someone drop something to the ground in the background, and he almost jumped back from Neil, instantly aware like a rush of sound, that the entire team had just witnessed that act of passion.

"So," Richie said, biting the inside of his cheek, "That just happened," Neil laughed uncomfortably, but didn't step too far away from Andrew.

"I supposed that's confirmation that you have no issue with Josten joining the team," Andrew heard Coach Sauvage comment from the doorway.

Neil hung his head in embarrassment, but Andrew could smiled, a small one, simple and discreet. Sauvage took a note in her clipboard and said, "All right you losers, clear out and rest up, I'll see you all back here on Monday," She tapped her pen against her clipboard in an air of finality and swiftly turned and left the locker rooms, leaving her bewildered teammates and a love struck couple behind.

When she left, Andrew tugged on Neils arm, "Let's go," He said. Neil nodded, and waved a quick goodbye to their teammates and they followed Sauvage's quick getaway.

Andrew dragged Neil to the car, and pressed him up against the cool metal, it was dark out, and quiet, but this time, it was just them and the moon and stars as their witness.

Andrew tipped his forehead against Neil's, and breathed, he could feel Neil's own exhales puffing against his lips, and he revelled in the mingled air he breathed in.

"Andrew," Neil said softly, lifting his hand up and twisting his fingers into the back of Andrew's hair.

"I know," Andrew muttered, not exactly sure what he knew, just that he knew that this moment was perfect, and belonged to them.

Neil huffed a laugh, and Andrew silenced it by pressing his lips against Neil's soft and gentle, cupping Neil's face in his palms, as he tried to express what he felt without words. Neil responded in kind, and he could feel him slightly grin against his lips. With that smile, Andrew felt the words, sizzle up, saccharine and sweet, resting just behind his teeth, and pushing through the slit of his lips. He leaned back just slightly, Neil attempting to chase his lips, before Andrew spoke.

"I love you," He whispered. Neil froze between his hands, his eyes wide and almost glassy.

"Yeah?" Neil said, his voice watery.

"Yeah," Andrew said, rubbing his thumb over Neil's cheek, covering his twisted circle scars with the shield of his thumb.

"I love you too," Neil said, blinking rapidly after he said it.

"I know," Andrew teased, and this time it felt right.

Neil laughed, and it filled the quiet night and Andrew held him close, his arms finally feeling full again.

Me while writing this ^

But jokes aside, I did write this with an impending deadline, a huge art history paper I have to hand in in 40 minuted, with only 90 of the 1500 words written. Well. I felt at the time this was more important. I'm probably going to eat those words in a few. BUT you know, when inspiration strikes, you must grasp it with both hands and get to work, because inspiration is not a frequent visitor. I might post this to ao3 when I finish my project ;) I hope this was enjoyable and nice to read. I KNOW it was kinda angsty at the start but I hope the end makes up for it :))))

LINK FOR AO3 :)))

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