#and wymack is wonderful and doubled-down with all three

[storyof-eden]

Andrew Minyard really looked at David Wymack with that med-induced grin and said "I don't give a shit about stickball or school. But my brother wants to be a doctor. And my cousin deserves something good for taking care of us the last few years. So if you sign them, too, I'll pretend."

And David Wymack really said "okay, kid."

[knickknacksandallthat]

I was watching hockey the other day and the announcers were talking about how on the penguins, there are three player who are setting the record for the longest tenure as teammates. they've been playing together for 18 years, i'm sure you can see where my brain went

Anon, yessss!! Omg I can literally just see the interview now:

(Jean, Jeremy, and Kevin sitting in a room with an interviewer)

INTERVIEWER: Well, thanks for sitting down with me, guys! And listen, a few of us were just talking about this - the three of you have been together on the same team for around 10 years now, right?

JEREMY: *smiling* Yep!

JEAN: If you say so.

INTERVIEWER: Wow, that's quite the tenure! Did you know, in fact, that you three are close to setting a record within the league?

KEVIN: What record?

INTERVIEWER: Most consecutive years together on a team.

JEAN: *raises eyebrow* they have records for this?

KEVIN: Who currently holds it?

INTERVIEWER: uh...well I think it's technically Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard with the Dragons.

JEREMY: Awww, good for them!

JEAN: *snorts*

INTERVIEWER: *clears throat* well, in any case, uh...that's quite the achievement, you know? Tell us - what's your secret? What's the magic between you three?

JEREMY: *still smiling* hmm, I wonder.

KEVIN: Practice, hard work, and experience.

INTERVIEWER: Well, I'm sure the time you train together accounts for a lot, but...there's nothing...else you'd say helps?

JEAN: Like?

INTERVIEWER: Um, like...well, you know...like friendship?

JEAN: *blinking* Friendship.

INTERVIEWER: Yeah, man...I mean, after all this time, I would think the three of you have grown so close that you'd be more like bros, you know?

JEAN: *frowning now* Bros.

JEREMY: *biting lip silently against grin* Ohhhh, right. Got it. Yeah man, for sure. Bros.

INTERVIEWER: Exactly! Homies, man.

KEVIN: *tone dripping with derision* Homies.

INTERVIEWER: Three dudes with the most sacred of all bonds - sports.

JEREMY: *now shaking with repressed laughter* Oh, for sure, my dude. Homies. Brotherly bonding. Soooooo hetero. The most.

(Kevin turns to scowl at Jeremy.)

INTERVIEWER: You know, it actually kind of surprised many of us that you didn't end up on a team with Neil and Andrew, Kevin. If anyone, those two are who many of us would have thought you'd be setting this record with.

JEREMY: Oh my god. *doubles over laughing*

JEAN: *smirking* Yes, tell us, Kevin. Why aren't you on a team with Neil and Andrew? Accomplishing this sacred connection of brotherly bonding?

KEVIN: *pinches bridge of nose with fingers before sighing* Let's just say being on the same team with them at the Olympics is more than enough.

KEVIN: *grumbles under breath* The damn pair of menaces.

-------------------

INTERVIEWER: Josten and Minyard, we were just out talking to your rivals on the West Coast last week - Jeremy Knox, Jean Moreau, and your former PSU teammate, Kevin Day, from the Warriors.

*Both stare silently at him*

INTERVIEWER: *coughs* Right, so, we were just saying how that trio is coming up on your record for teammates with the most time spent together on one team.

NEIL: And? What's your point?

INTERVIEWER: *loosens tie* oh, well, there was a little curiosity, I guess, around why Kevin chose that team instead of coming to play for the Dragons - with the two of you, I mean, his former teammates. Um...do you know why that is?

NEIL: Because Andrew would probably stab him.

INTERVIEWER: I...what?

NEIL: *waving hand back and forth* Yeah, I'd probably give it two weeks at most.

INTERVIEWER: ...

NEIL: See, Kevin would whine and nag, and Andrew would get pissed but he promised Wymack he wouldn't, no matter how much Kevin annoys him. So...yeah. It's probably better that they both stay on opposite ends of the country.

INTERVIEWER: ...

ANDREW: *pulling lollipop out of mouth* Never let a sad, forty-something year old man convince you to promise shit.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil?

WIP Wednesday (8/21) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 227)

The rest of Monday is uneventful, compared to this morning's... debacle. They go to practice and Andrew avoids Aaron like the plague. He's not embarrassed, per se. Maybe he is. He's not sure how he feels. He doesn't want to think about it.

And it works out because his twin doesn’t bother to look at Andrew, let alone try to speak to him. Nicky obviously knows something went down between them, but he just awkwardly pretends everything’s fine— classic Nicky. Kevin is the one who asks what happened. Because their feud means they're not working together like they're supposed to.

“Nothing,” Andrew insists, after the thirtieth time. “Aaron is always like that. Angry and rude. Not like me at all. I’m laid back and happy-go-lucky. Did you know I double-knot my shoelaces? Aaron doesn’t do that.”

Kevin gives him a bewildered look and it takes Andrew a moment to realize it’s because he’s said something insane. Well, Kevin should be used to it. Andrew should be used to it. He took his meds after roof time this morning. (Had to. His stomach was churning and he was breaking into a sweat.) And he feels like a balloon. One that someone let go of the string to a long time ago. And now he’s just up, up, up. And away.

“Listen up, you good-for-nothings,” Coach says at the end of practice. “Gotta tell you we can’t have practices for the next three days.”

A collective groan rings out around him, Kevin’s being the loudest. Before he can start to bitch, Wymack holds up a hand aimed in his direction. 

“I know, I know. Can’t do anything about it. The court’s needed waxed for months and they finally decided to grace us with their fucking presence. No practice till Friday. If you show your faces around here before then— talking to you, Day— I will take your keys away. Understood?”

"Yes, Coach." Kevin huffs out. Then they're dismissed.

“Happy birthday to me!” Andrew sing-songs on the way into the locker room. Kevin whines like he’s been mortally wounded.

“How can you say that? We have a game on Friday for fuck’s sake.”

“Try not caring, Kevin. It’s done wonders for me.” Andrew says before shucking out of his uniform and heading into the showers.

[cartermaddx]

Character Development Task Everything Always Comes Back to Exy Carter Maddox

Beads of sweat drip down the sides of Carter’s face as he doubled over with his hands on his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the waves of nausea to pass over him. The pain in his chest that began an hour ago had started to spread across his ribcage, blossoming toward his back and arms. For the past five hours, Carter had been at the court. One drill after another drill, going until he’s on the ground and reluctantly admitted that he needed to take a break. But as soon as he could clamber back up onto his feet, Carter had his fingers gripping the racquet and went at it again. Every drill had to be perfect. Every shot in the goal. Every step of his foot. If anything was even slightly off, Carter did it all over again.

Already he could hear Abby’s voice in his head giving him a lecture about knowing when to stop. He could see the look on Wymack’s face—that familiar look of understanding but that underlining sadness that this is what some of his Foxes resort to because everything is dependent on Exy. The two of them have had too many late-night conversations in the apartment about Exy. Wymack’s wanted Carter to carve out something else for himself, but when it’s Exy that’s saved him from everything, how could he go to anything else? It isn’t like he hasn’t tried. Carter’s put a hundred percent into school, into hobbies, into clubs, and every other part of the college experience to put together pieces of his new life but it always comes back to one thing. Exy.

The locker room is messy, loud, and under normal circumstances Carter would likely be joining in on the chaos. But instead, he’s in his coach’s office. It’s small and stuffy. There are motivational posters all over the wall that Carter had never paid much attention to previously. All his motivation came in the sound of an angry voice, threats, and bruises. Carter knows what future he has set out for himself because it was his father’s future. Carter’s vision for anything else doesn’t matter. Non-existent. That’s how he’s always felt. He only had five years, five brief years of getting to be the person he truly wants to be and as desperate as he is to have that in his grasp again, he has to let it go.

But now someone stands across from him and is offering him the opportunity to step off the gravel road and onto another path. One that he could carve out himself and make it what he wants it to be in the end. All it means is signing the contract, joining the Foxes for five years. He’d get to play Class 1 Exy. Not on a big three team like his father wants, where he wouldn’t belong. Carter isn’t blind to what it means by Wymack coming and Carter had thrown a look to his coach when he stepped inside. His skills on the court are top-notch. Carter puts everything he has on the court every single time he steps out there. Wymack said it the moment they were alone in the room.

“You play like you have nothing to lose. Everything you have it out on that court.”

And Carter had only looked up and with some strange confidence told him, “Everything I have is on that court.”

There’s a level of understanding. Partially, Carter is sure, because Wymack’s been on enough of these visits and seen enough of kids just like him. But Carter also knew that while his skills would have put him out on the radar of other Exy teams (and it had, there were other offers that his father had been very vocal about), there’s one thing that would put him on Wymack’s radar.

“Is your father going to be a problem?”

It’s a reasonable question. Carter wonders in that moment just how much Wymack knew about his father prior to coming here. Clearly, he knew enough to be here, but did he know his father’s own past? His Exy past? Their names had changed… Carter doubted it, but there seems to be this look in Wymack’s eyes that makes Carter wonder for a brief moment if he truly did.

It wouldn’t be the first time Carter wondered if Wymack is all-knowing.

Carter had smiled and shook his head. “No, he’s not going to be a problem,” he said with that same confidence that had surfaced earlier. Really, he’d been lying through his teeth. Carter knows his father wouldn’t be a problem for Wymack and the Foxes, but he’d be a problem for himself. And maybe that’s what the coach across from him had really been asking—but Carter wouldn’t let someone put themselves in the line of fire for him.

It isn’t as easy as signing the contract. Going home with the news of an offer from the Foxes turns quickly into a screaming mess of anger. Liam’s life revolves around the Exy world and he’s spent many nights on the couch spitting on the Foxes and Wymack’s vision for the team. Carter’s heard plenty of lectures that made his father’s view on them perfectly clear and now here comes his kid home with an offer from them? But more than anything, Liam is mad at Carter. If Carter would have been a little bit better. If Carter would have not been so sensitive. How did he fuck up and let people think their house was anything but a perfect household?

It’s always Carter’s fault in the end.

Even worse, Carter makes the mistake of telling his mother in the quiet of the night weeks later that he’s considering the offer from the Foxes. Naïve of him to think that she would keep it to herself. Whatever relationship and life the two of them had built in those five years together didn’t mean anything anymore. Not with Liam back home.

He knows something went wrong when he comes home from a trip to the store the next day to his mother in the kitchen with a bruised face and crying into the vegetables that she’s cutting. Iris isn’t looking up to Carter, but she risked a glance to Liam who is sitting at the kitchen table.

By the end of the night, Carter’s on the bathroom floor and his father standing over him with those familiar dark eyes.

“You sign that damn contract; I better never see your damn face here ever again. You walk out that fucking door and never come back.”

Carter makes the decision not to go to his graduation. He paid his dues and his grades were stellar, he doesn’t need to walk across the stage to prove that to anyone. Instead, he spends his time packing quietly just what he needs and finding all the cash he has hidden away from his father. It’s enough to get him to Palmetto. Just enough. When he leaves in the night for the red-eye flight, it’s with the bare minimum that he owns to his name and his Exy gear. Trekking to Wymack’s place takes time and bumming a few rides, but eventually he makes it to the address and when Carter knocks on that door, he knows he’s starting a new life.

Exy’s giving him another chance and he won’t let it slip through his fingers.

Carter hit the ground hard, the sound echoing in the empty court and his string of curses followed along. His mind had been somewhere else and his body had finally given out on him. His legs were shaking, his right arm he landed on in pain but he knew it would just be a nasty bruise tomorrow. Getting out of bed tomorrow might be a different story. Physically, he might not be able to even turn over.

He laid there shaking for a period of time before he found some strength to pull himself up and slowly make his way to the locker room. Shower wasn’t even an option as soon as he sat down on the bench and his body lost whatever energy it had regained. His Exy gear littered the floor, his locker thrown open, and his backpack resting up against the closed lockers.

A pounding headache started up at his temples and was making progress across his head, not helping as the thoughts in his head began swirling around about the next game and the draft coming up faster than he expected. Didn’t matter how much he practiced, the doubts and the worries never seemed to go away.

He reached down gently to his backpack to fish out his cell phone and thumb through his contacts. There are a few different people he could call that he knew would answer. Grant and Beretta at the top of the list. If he really wanted to, he could call Wymack. The man would always be there—a reassurance that gave Carter comfort on many occasions.

Instead, he called out to someone unexpected. They were friends but they didn’t talk as often as Carter would have liked for very… Exy reasons. But this is about other Exy problems and Carter needed to talk to someone new about the draft and the future coming. Who knows, maybe the other would have advice that Carter hadn’t heard yet.

The ringing of the phone is the only sound Carter can hear other than his own heavy breathing. Exhaustion is weighing down heavily on him but the unsettled feeling is taking precedent over anything else. The closer they get to the next game, the worse the feeling gets in his chest. They can’t lose this game. The Foxes have no other choice but to win.

Carter had been praying every single night. He hasn’t prayed since the day his father came back to their home—upsetting everything in his life once again and crushing the happiness he’d built with his mother.

Finally, the phone clicked and right away Carter heard Spencer on the other line.

“Is everything alright?”

The words made Carter smile. At least he knew Spencer would always be in Beretta’s corner.

“Everything’s good. Ber’s fine—being her usual self. And I swear I’m not calling just to tell you she’s better than you… even if it’s true.”

Spencer’s laugh is reassuring to Carter and brought out a smile. Another reason Carter doesn’t mind Spencer: he’s never once gotten pissed at Carter for always fucking around with him.

Really, the only bad thing Spencer has going for him is that he’s a Raven. Which is a pretty damn big thing when he’s a Fox but Carter can’t put Spencer on his shit list. They’re good friends thanks to Beretta.

“I would expect nothing less from her number one fan. What's up?”

This is the part that Carter wasn’t sure about. Sure, there are other Foxes that Carter could talk to when it came to this and honestly, Carter’s already been to them and had those conversations. But he remembered what Betsy told him about reaching out to more people—to step out of his comfort zone. As much as he puts on a show for everyone and as much as he truly is wild—there’s a box that Carter has always kept himself in firmly when it came to his feelings and his past. Only two people know his actual past—Wymack being one of them. Benefit of a new name. A new life. But even just talking about the things going on in his head… he rarely talks about it.

“Honest to god, I just needed to bounce some shit off someone. We both know this game the Foxes have coming up… It’s important.” Carter isn’t stupid to think the Ravens aren’t keeping a close tab on the Foxes. “But even more important, the draft is coming.”

Spencer paused for a moment, knowing exactly how Carter is feeling. Both of them know what the draft means; if they don't prove themselves now, they'll get passed over and forgotten quicker than a dropped flower. "Think you're ready for it?"

That was the question. Carter would answer yes in a heartbeat if the question was: Think you’re ready to play professional? It’s all he’s wanted. Carter would settle into a team and play his heart out every single day. He would love to travel and learn from other experienced Exy players. He’d make a name for himself and put his past that much farther behind him.

But ready for the draft? That’s a whole different story.

“Fuck no. Spence, dude, this is the first time I’ve been scared in a long ass time. And I hate being scared.”

[knox-knocks]

My Warmth, My Love

read on ao3

From the moment Neil woke up that morning, he knew that it would not be a good day. His birthday never was.

When he was young, his birthday was spent either locked in his room, out of way and out of mind, or training with Lola, which was so much worse. “Surprises” she called them. Usually it was something new he needed to learn, but the surprises were always more fun for Lola. Neil rarely came away unscathed during those lessons. He hated them.

And then there was that birthday surprise his Freshmen year of college, with the blood, the message, and the start of a countdown. That definitely had not been fun for Neil.

Neil didn’t celebrate his birthday. He didn’t want the Foxes to celebrate either, or even mention it all, but it was hard to keep the Foxes from doing anything. When Neil checked his phone, several notifications from various Foxes and former Foxes wishing him a happy birthday popped up on his phone. Neil sighed and rubbed at his face.

As he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, images of his latest nightmare drifted through his subconscious. In the dream, Neil was looking for a locker his mother had left a bag of money in at one of her locations. But whenever Neil opened one, blood would fall from the sky and drench him. He finally woke up when he opened the last locker and found nothing but his empty duffel bag.

Nightmares were always more frequent around this time of year. Neil could barely remember the last time he’d gotten a full night’s rest. It was worse now that Andrew was gone, miles away with his new pro team. Neil thought about calling him, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth and Neil was sure he wouldn’t be able to get the words out.

Since it was a Saturday, Neil didn’t have to do anything. He should probably get a head start on homework so he doesn’t fall behind again, but when Neil peeled open his eyes, he only felt the weight of the air around him, keeping him trapped between the blankets and sheets.

His breath caught in his chest. He couldn’t draw in enough air, the sheets felt like ropes around his chest, binding him together and squeezing the air out of his aching lungs. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. The room was starting to blur around him.

Neil closed his eyes and counted doubles in his head. It was a coping mechanism Andrew taught him for panic attacks, something he learned from Betsy. One, two, four, eight, sixteen… He counted until he lost track and had to start over. Neil counted to 4,096 three times before he was finally able to breathe normally again.

As not to draw his roommates’ attention to him, Neil slipped quietly from the bottom bunk, peeling the sheets that stuck to him from his body and trudged through the dorm to plop down in the living room. Neil curled up in on himself, almost wishing he brought the heavy blanket Matt gave him for one of the days of Hanukkah during his last year at Palmetto. It was blue, for Hanukkah, but edged with white paw prints for the Foxes. It was extremely soft under Neil’s hand, even after a couple years in the wash.

The room was chilly, making the hair on Neil’s arms stand on end. Streams of gray light streamed in from the window and the white curtains one of the freshmen brought billowed with the breeze. Neil frowned and got up to close the window. No wonder it was so cold.

Neil shivered. He was about to retreat back to the bedroom and grab the blanket and some thick socks when there was a knock at the door.

Puzzled, Neil wondered who it was. Both of his roommates were asleep in their beds, and Wymack would have called if he needed anything. Deciding it was one of the freshmen who still hadn’t worked up the nerve to text him if they needed something, Neil ambled up to the door, cursing the cold tile beneath his feet, and opened it.

Andrew stood on the other side, bundled in a thick winter coat with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder. Neil blinked stupidly. Andrew hadn’t texted him to say he was coming down from New York for a visit, and he wasn’t one for surprises. When Neil said nothing, Andrew rolled his eyes and moved to get past Neil.

Neil stepped aside to let him in and took the bag Andrew plopped in his hands. “What are you doing here?” he asked dumbly. “Did you drive here?”

“Would have taken too long,” Andrew said, blowing into his hands to warm them up. “I took the early flight.”

Neil almost felt a ghost of a smile flicker across his face at that. He knew that Andrew hated flying, especially flying alone, but he’d come here for Neil. Something warm and slow like honey bloomed in Neil’s stomach, almost enough to chase the chill away.

The warmth faded away and was replaced with nausea when Neil remembered his nightmare. Blood and a battered duffel bag flashed behind his eyes. A tug at his shirt helped Neil come back to himself. He looked up from his feet to find Andrew watching him carefully.

“Count your doubles,” Andrew ordered. His voice was strong, unyielding, but Neil detected the hint of gentleness, reserved only for Neil, that had crept into it over the years.  

“I’ve been doing that all morning,” Neil murmured. “My head hurts.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes and led Neil back to the couch. He held Neil’s hands between his own to warm them up for a couple minutes before he disappeared into the bedroom and came back with an armful of white and blue. Once Neil was properly bundled in his giant blanket, Andrew went into the kitchen and turned on the stove.

Neil frowned. He didn’t think he could eat anything at the moment. His stomach still turned and if Neil let himself drift too much, he could smell the coppery tang of blood on the air. But when Andrew came back, he held a mug in each hand. Sitting them on the coffee table, Andrew opened the blankets and nestled himself between the arm of the couch and Neil. He gave a mug to Neil and took a gulp from his own, despite steam still coming off of it.

Swallowing, he took a tentative sip. It was Neil’s favorite tea, the kind that tasted warm and vaguely of spice. Neil closed his eyes, feeling the warmth seep into his fingertips and slowly spread through his body. The blanket was warm and soft, and Andrew beside him made the warmth bloom in his stomach as well.

They finished their tea in companionable silence and then Andrew took Neil’s cup from his hands and placed both of them on the coffee table. He turned toward Neil and studied his face. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, Neil knew he was content to just look. Neil knew the feeling. His eyes wandered over the edge of Andrew’s cheek bone, down to his pink lips, to the little mole nestled by his ear. Neil loved that mole.

“Yes or no?” Neil asked, hesitantly. Asking things from Andrew wasn’t something Neil was afraid of, but he could still feel the uncertainty growing in his body. “I want to feel your arms around me.”

Andrew tilted his head to the side, considering. Neil knew he was figuring out Neil’s current mental state. But if it were really bad, Neil wouldn’t have asked at all. Andrew knew this. “Yes,” he decided, quietly but firmly, and wrapped one arm around Neil’s shoulders and used his other to bring Neil’s head down to his body.

Neil drew in a sharp intake of breath as he rested his head against Andrew’s broad chest. Andrew shifted, kicking the blanket out of the way and pulling his feet up to the couch so he was laying horizontally. Neil followed suit and tucked his knees between Andrew’s legs, then he repositioned the blanket so it was around both of them. They didn’t hug like this very often, but Neil noticed it was becoming more of an occurrence when Neil and Andrew are away from each other for too long.

When Andrew’s arms were fulling encircling him, radiating warmth in the thick blanket, Neil felt his eyes close again. It was comfort, safety. Andrew’s arms were home.

“My roommates are in the other room,” Neil muttered, his words already starting to slur.

Andrew just brushed his fingers through Neil’s hair, untangled the messy curls with his fingertips, a silent reassurance that this was okay. Neil breathed in deep and released it in a sigh, sinking further into Andrew’s embrace.

He was safe. He was warm. He was with Andrew. Neil felt himself drift back to sleep, his birthday and the morbid nightmare banished far from his thoughts. He couldn’t think of anything else when Andrew was close. He was safe, he was warm, he was with Andrew. He was home.

[aglionbyfoxes]

AFTG Grownups AU

it’s been four years since the foxes have all seen each other

of course some of them have seen each other here and there 

but there hasn’t been a big reunion since new years three years ago

they all have kids now and those kids are getting older and it’s just hard to find the time to all make it down to Palmetto

but then Wymack dies

and of course there’s no way they’re going to miss it

they all fly out from their respective cities, with their kids and spouses

at the last minute at the funeral, right before they’re about to part ways, Dan suggests doing a trip together, because as it turns out, they all have the next two weeks free

(Kevin takes a little bit of convincing because his pro-team has a press thing in Milan in a week, but he figures he can leave early)

so Allison goes ahead and does her thing

her thing being planning massive group vacations at the very last minute in a badass and extravagant fashion

lo and behold, they’re able to get a cottage right down the road from the first one they stayed at, this one is just double the size because of all their kids

Andrew and Neil’s one, Aaron and Katelyn’s two, Kevin and Thea’s one, Nicky and Erik’s one, Matt and Dan’s three, Allison’s two and Renee’s two

that’s a grand total of 12 children

it’s....hectic to say the least 

because they’re all at weird points in their lives, all happy overall if maybe a little bit lost

Neil and Kevin feel like they’re starting to plateau with exy

Andrew is considering retiring, looking at his daughter and wondering if exy is the thing that makes life interesting for him anymore

Matt’s a stay at home dad now, they all have their things

and now on top of it with Wymack gone it’s bringing back a lot of old memories 

and at first the kids are mad cause they had plans with their home friends and of course this is like...fine, they see most of the others a few times a year

but the further along the vacation goes, the happier they get

partially because they actually get a long really well with the other fox children

partially because the foxes kind of become different people around each other

they're never gonna stop being family no matter how long it’s been and it shows by how easily everything clicks when they're together

and obviously it’s not all perfect

there's a lot of yelling, a lot of drinking, but also a lot of love

when they gather to spread Wymack’s ashes they think about his speech right before their game against the ravens and how much those words touched their whole lives

their version of arrow roulette is with an exy ball

somehow Andrew always convinces them to do it

he hits it up as high as he can and whoever moves out of the circle as it’s falling loses 

andrew is also always the first to step out of the circle. by the end of it, kevin, allison and neil are left

neil gets hit in the face with the ball and has a giant lump on his head the rest of the trip

if you’re wondering, yes Kevin does put a KFC bucket on his head and dance to the piña coladas song

if you’re also wondering, Kevin didn’t actually eat the KFC. Andrew ate all of it then shoved the bucket on Kevin’s head

Andrew is the one who sets up the tin can telephone between all of their rooms for the kids but they end up all spending the night talking and laughing through them

Kevin ends up ditching his commitment in Milan to stay with the foxes

and then of course there’s the waterpark scene

let me tell you, no one ever thought they would see kevin day corralling 6 small children down a lazy river and yet there they are

who pees in the pool you ask? 

it’s Nicky. 100% Nicky

they run into Jeremy and Jean and Alvarez and Laila while they’re there and decide to have a friendly rematch 

the last time they played together in college, Kevin’s final shot was really controversial but eventually went in his favor

the night before the game, all the foxes dance together, not just the couples but the friends too, they just keep switching parters the whole night until everyone’s danced with everyone

the kids love watching that

the next day is the game against the former trojans and it’s a close match

but in the end Kevin lets Jeremy have the final point, to make up for what happened years ago

once the two weeks are over they’re all happier than they have been in a long time

they make sure to come back every year and their sequel is much better than Grownups 2

[philosophiums]

Closing Time - TFCFansgive fic

This is the fic that I did for @curlyhairedneil through @tfcfansgive. Hopefully this turned out alright!! I won’t lie, I really super struggled with the prompt, because we all know I’m not one for fluff writing, but this was... admittedly a lot of fun once I finally figured out where I wanted the story to go.

------------

Neil doesn’t know what to do on a snow day. Not that he considers this much of one. There’s barely a dusting on the ground, hardly enough to even call it snow. It’ll be gone by tomorrow morning, if not later this evening. He doesn’t get it. Classes – canceled. The whole school – shut down. Even Wymack, the betrayer, had called off Exy practice for the day. It’s not that Neil doesn’t get that, regionally, this is a lot of snow. It’s not even an inch, but to people who live here, who make a home in the south east, this is an abomination. Neil’s been here for three years – has called himself a Fox for three years, holy shit – and they’ve never called a snow day before. It’s unprecedented.

And yet all Neil can see when he looks out the dorm window is a lack of ice and perfect running conditions.

“We’re not going out there,” Andrew says from his spot on one of the bean bags. Kevin is at his desk doing homework. He’s been grumbling for the past fifteen minutes about stubborn coaches and unreasonable fathers. Apparently, not even Kevin could win Wymack over. The court is closed to them.

He should take a page out of Kevin’s book and get caught up on some homework. His chemistry is falling a bit short, but it’s fine because he’s still managing to maintain his GPA. Neil’s already done the math for that. He’d still be eligible to play even if he gets a low D in the class. And thank god, because Neil doesn’t understand the subject and his tutor is atrocious.

“Do your homework,” Andrew says as Neil drops down onto the sofa beside him, heaving a great sigh of boredom.

“No.” Neil stares at the ceiling and then at Andrew’s lap, debating.

“Yes,” Andrew says, and Neil can’t tell if it’s to maintain their argument or if it’s an invitation, but he takes it as the latter and settles down with his head on Andrew’s lap. Neil likes the way Andrew’s eyes track his progression all the way down until he’s on his back, neck at a bit of an uncomfortable angle, but it’s fine because Andrew is watching, looking. It makes Neil warmer, as if it wasn’t winter outside at all.

Kevin puts in his headphones and turns on an Exy game. Neil had known that the homework wouldn’t last long, especially since it was for his literature class and not any of his three history classes. It’s still nice to know that anything Neil says to Andrew and vise versa will be in confidence.

Neil waits for a staring comment from Andrew, but what he gets instead is a hand in his hair as Andrew returns his attention to the television. Neil doesn’t know what’s on, doesn’t care. He watches Andrew the way Andrew watches the show, taking in the reflection of the screen in Andrew’s glasses only to the extent that he likes the way the colors play on Andrew’s amber eyes beneath the lenses. He hums when Andrew takes to lightly scratching his nails over Neil’s scalp, and Neil likes the way Andrew’s jaw works like he’s trying impossibly hard to restrain himself from looking at Neil at all.

There was a time in his life – a long, long time – when this, here with Andrew, wasn’t even a thought in Neil’s head. It wasn’t even a fever dream. Neil knew his life was running and running and lying, was new identities and his mother’s backhand when he fucked up their backstory. Teenage hormones had gotten him a secret kiss that had turned out in the end to be not as secret as he had thought – and nothing special anyway. It hadn’t been worth the beating, hadn’t set off anything inside of Neil that kissing Andrew had – does.

Kissing Andrew is… different. It’s something Neil is afraid will be taken from him one day, something that could be used against him. Every kiss could be the last, every moment like this could be taken away from him so quickly, so easily. His father is dead, Lola is dead, Romero is dead, but there are so many, many others. And on top of it all, there’s Ichirou. Neil could wake up one day and his life could be in ruins.

So when moments like this come – no classes, no practice, an invitingly comfortable Andrew to lounge against, Neil knows better than to wish for anything else.

Neil tracks time by episode changes. They’re all half-hour segments, short little skits that Neil still finds too long and uninteresting. The tropes are boring, and Neil hates how poor the acting is, how the information is never tied together properly and how most of the “facts” are presented through a screen of bullshit. The plots are predictable, all following the same arch, the same path. The jokes are subpar and bourgeois. He’s never asked why Andrew likes them because it never seemed relevant; there were more important truths to be shared.

“Why do you watch them?” Neil asks during a commercial break. Andrew mutes the television and looks down at Neil. “If I spewed half of the nonsense coming from these shows, you would knife me.”

Andrew gives him a look which clearly tells him to not be so dramatic and then returns his attention to the still-muted television.

Kevin swears into the silence, then mumbles something about the stats of the game he’s watching. Neil picks up on the scribble of a pencil and wonders if Kevin is going to assign him this particular game to watch at a later date – tomorrow, most likely.

“I watched them in juvie,” Andrew says, pulling Neil’s focus where it should never have strayed from. The position of his neck is getting uncomfortable, but he doesn’t dare move. If he pulls away now, Andrew might stop talking, and Neil would rather die. “It was always funny to me,” Andrew continues in a humorless tone, “that the detention center allowed us free range on the television for an hour each day, but most of my foster homes wouldn’t even let us look at their screens.”

Thinking about Andrew’s past is never fulfilling for Neil, in the same way that he would rather never think about his own past. It happened, it was awful, and he doesn’t want it to keep affecting who he is today. Neil was never allowed to watch TV shows either, unless it was the news or it was a requirement for class – and those were usually documentaries. It was only when Neil showed up here, rooming with Seth and Matt, that he was allowed television. And despite Neil never taking advantage of Matt’s open invitation to watch sports other than Exy or Allison’s near-insistence that Neil watch some reality show with her, Neil can empathize with Andrew, with the juxtaposition of gaining a freedom in a place that should have been his prison.

But, for all of the hideous events that they have survived, television is not something worth weeping over.

So Neil snorts derisively and gives his head a small shake. “And of all of the channels available on cable network, you chose this one?”

Andrew blinks quickly enough for Neil to count it as surprise. Of course, Andrew chose the channel in juvie. Andrew has been frightful since day one, and Neil doubts that Andrew has ever allowed himself to be weak. Juvie would have been the perfect opportunity for him to bulk up, to punch someone hard enough to knock a tooth, to gain some semblance of control for the first time in his life.

It’s not surprising when Andrew tugs at Neil’s hair, signaling him to sit up. It’s also not surprising when Andrew immediately stands and makes his way to the kitchenette. But Andrew’s crooked finger is intriguing enough to unfold Neil’s legs and get him off the sofa. He glances just once at Kevin, sees his nose mere inches from the screen, and decides to just let him go blind.

Andrew pins Neil with a yes or no the second he’s in the kitchenette. The answer is yes, always yes, and Andrew’s mouth is a fire trying to fend off South Carolina’s poor excuse for a winter. Neil winds his fingers through Andrew’s hair to tug him along as he backs himself into the counter. He likes being here, something solid at his back and Andrew at his front. It doesn’t feel like being pinned for dissection. It feels… good. It feels like home, like reassurance, like Andrew’s hot breath against Neil’s wet lips as they break apart for a quick grab of air.

They don’t need words, don’t need misguided and ambiguous ‘thank you’s. They don’t even need to trade one calm assist for another.

Andrew kisses Neil once more, just as intense but not for as long, and then pulls away.

“We’re out of ice cream,” Neil says, half-amused when Andrew beelines for the freezer. They haven’t eaten supper yet – fuck, they haven’t even eaten lunch yet – but ice cream is an easy way for Andrew to, well, cool down after a mention of his past. Andrew stops before his fingertips even brush the freezer’s handle. Neil waits for Andrew to open the door, to double check as if looking for himself might make the ice cream appear, but he’s mildly surprised when Andrew instead turns back to Neil. Being the recipient of trust is still a new sensation.

“Who ate the last of my ice cream?”

Nicky did. “I don’t know,” Neil says, and he knows that Andrew knows he’s lying. But Andrew doesn’t call him out except to frown a little deeper. “We could always go get some.”

That suggestion is greeted with indifferent eyes and a simple, “It’s snowing. Everything is shut down.”

“I’m sure Walmart is open.”

“That’s in Columbia.”

Neil shrugs. “Good thing you own a car.”

“I’m not going to drive in this weather.”

Neil has a close call with a humorless scoff, but manages to pass it off as a hitch in his breath. “It’s just a little snow, Andrew. Haven’t you ever driven in snow?”

“No,” Andrew says, immediate and honest. “But you have.” It doesn’t have to be a question.

Once more, Neil shrugs. “That’s not a very interesting story. Just some shitty cars, some grinding gear shifts, and some snowy mountains.” Maybe Neil owes Andrew for the story about juvie, but that doesn’t mean he owes it now. It could be a debt, something to pay later when Andrew needs something from him versus simply wanting something.

“To Columbia, though?” Andrew asks, and Neil gets where he’s coming from. “It’s just ice cream.” And it’s a long fucking drive.

“Not only,” Neil says. “It’s a way to get me out of the damn dorm. I’m dying. I hate being cooped up.”

“So dramatic. Alright,” Andrew says, agreeing just like that.

They don’t bother to say goodbye to Kevin, to tell him where they’re going or what they’re doing. Andrew doesn’t even text Nicky to put him in charge of Kevin. Riko is dead and their deal is off – Kevin needs independence more than he needs protection.

Andrew grabs his jacket and for a half-second, Neil debates shirking his own just to prove a point – but in the end he doesn’t know what point he’s trying to prove, and he, like Andrew, has adjusted to South Carolina’s temperature enough that it does feel chilly outside. He can afford time for comfort, so he puts on the jacket and follows Andrew outside.

The car keys are traded for the cigarettes in Neil’s pocket, and Andrew crosses behind Neil for the passenger side. It takes a moment to readjust the driver’s seat to where Neil likes it, but soon enough they’re on the road.

The snow plows are out. Neil honestly can’t fucking believe it. There’s less than an inch of snow collected on the grass, and the pavement is wet but completely clear. He doesn’t get it, can’t comprehend how an entire campus and surrounding businesses can close down from such a minor inconvenience.

In the passenger seat, Andrew lights a cigarette, but he doesn’t offer one to Neil. More surprised than offended, Neil glances at Andrew.

“Eyes on the road,” is all Andrew says.

“There’s nothing wrong with the road except slow-ass snow plows and the congestion they’re causing,” Neil says. “Can I have a cigarette?”

Andrew seems to debate it, staring stonily out of the windshield. After a moment, he digs out a new stick and lights it. “If we end up in the ditch because of you, you had better pray that the crash is bad enough to kill us both, or you’re paying for all of the damages and buying me a new car.”

“Again,” Neil supplies – unhelpfully, judging from Andrew’s expression.

The interstate is shut down – really? Neil thinks, and flips a U-turn in the middle of the on-ramp – so they take the back roads. It’s freeing, Neil supposes. Peaceful in a way that comes from them being alone on the road, everyone else shut-up inside their homes, enjoying a day off from school or work. Though the snow is melting almost faster than it can accumulate, it’s still pretty as it falls from the clouds, and Neil likes the sheer screen it makes across his vision, something beautifully obscure.

“Do you like the winter?” Andrew asks, and maybe it’s collecting a debt but maybe it’s just curiosity.

“I miss it, sometimes,” Neil admits. “I’ve had a lot of good ones and a lot of bad ones. I’ve seen snow turn red, seen it fall like crisp linens to cover bodies and any traces that my mother and I were there. But I’ve also woken up and seen an inch of frost covering the trees, catching the light.” He wants to say that he’s spent a couple of winters with Andrew, now, and they’ve been the best yet, but he keeps that to himself. “I like the cold. It’s refreshing, makes me feel alive.”

“You have Exy for that.” Andrew digs out the pack of cigarettes, and Neil thinks it’s to hide his bemusement. “I’m not living anywhere that gets constant snow. You’re on your own.”

Neil’s hands relax on the steering wheel as a laugh rolls through him. “Making me choose between you and snow. That’s not fair.”

“I could make it be Exy and me,” Andrew threatens around the cigarette in his mouth, clicking lighter in his hands.

Neil takes the cigarette away and catches Andrew’s eyes for as long as he dares on the snow-wetted highway. “I would choose you,” he says, “without hesitation.”

Andrew looks away. For a moment, Neil thinks he’s lost the conversation, lost their pleasant afternoon. But then Andrew rasps out, “Don’t say that.”

“You think I don’t mean it?”

The slight shake of Andrew’s head would have been answer enough. “You’ve told me once already that Exy is everything to you. Don’t lie to me and tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

Neil puts on the brakes and pulls the car over to the side of the road. He puts the hazards on just in case before he twists in his seat to face Andrew head-on. “Look at me,” he says, and Andrew does. “I mean it. I don’t believe that you would ever make me choose between you and Exy, but if something happened… if the world aligned the wrong way and I had to give up one or the other….” Neil reaches out, stops, and then touches Andrew’s cheek when he nods. “You are the single best thing in my life. That I get to share my favorite hobby – my future job – with you is beyond amazing. But you are worth so much more than that, Andrew.”

They both know what it feels like to not be wanted, to be used and then pushed aside. Neil is not going to let Andrew feel like that anymore, not around him, anyway. But he’s also not about to force Andrew into an emotional conversation so far from home, in the middle of the snow that Andrew seems to loathe. So Neil smiles and hands back the cigarette. Then he shakes his head and pulls back onto the road.

“I’m driving two hours just to get you some damn ice cream,” Neil mutters, as if that should be proof enough. It’s not, but it does what needed to be done. Andrew relaxes and takes a drag, flicking the ash out through the cracked window.

“Stop bitching and drive.” He sounds normal again.

Neil has every intention of bringing up this conversation at a later time, but for now… for now, he’s content to just drive and reaffirm that this is real life, that he’s not dreaming, and that he’ll have Andrew for as long as Andrew will let him.