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jingerhead · 3 years ago

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My bestie @archiveofourfoxes is sick and shared an andreil sickfic headcanon with me, so I’m writing a quick drabble for them! I know I have a million other things I wanna be writing...but I'm literally so busy and I happened to be focused on doing this so I went with it haha. I hope you enjoy!!

~*~

Andrew woke up and his whole body ached.

He barely wanted to open his eyes, squinting despite the only light in the room being what made it through the curtains. The sheets were tangled around his legs, but the rest of the blankets had been kicked off the bed at some point in the night when Andrew had gotten too overheated. He was still too hot, his head was pounding, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose, which meant his throat felt like sandpaper.

And to make it worse, it was both summer and a day off, so Andrew couldn’t skip exy practice. That was the real tragedy.

It was very rare that Andrew got sick, only once every few years, but when it hit it would hit hard. He could barely swallow the little spit that was in his mouth, but moving at all sounded like the worst plan ever, despite Andrew needing to drink some water. He slowly turned his head on the pillow to glance at the clock, seeing that it was almost seven in the morning, which meant that Neil would be home from his morning run soon. All Andrew had to do was wait for a little while and then things would be fine.

After attempting to swallow again with little success, Andrew managed to weakly kick the rest of the sheets off his body and turn on his side. He sniffed, but despite feeling congested, his nose was just as dry as his throat, which probably meant that he’d need fluids soon. But Andrew wasn’t getting out of bed when his limbs felt brittle and yet like jelly at the same time, head pounding so much he was sure he could tap a rhythm along to it.

Not only that, but he felt disgusting. He wanted a shower, and for Neil to get back soon so that he could bring him a glass of water. Hell, Andrew would choke down some pills as well just to feel a bit better, and he hates swallowing pills. He tried to remember what medicine they had around, sure they had ibuprofen and cold medicine from the last time Neil had been ill. It’s always a nightmare when Neil is sick, because he always goes with his default ‘I’m fine’ excuse until Andrew can get a list of his symptoms out of him.

Speaking of Neil, where the hell was he?

Andrew suffered for another ten minutes in silence. He didn't even have the cats for company to keep him distracted, but that was probably for the best. Sir would want cuddles, and King would get hair everywhere, which would only make Andrew feel even more uncomfortable than he already was. He heard the keys at the front door, heard footsteps walking towards the bedroom, and then finally Neil was there, eyebrows furrowed and a plastic bag clutched in one hand. He wasn’t even wearing running clothes.

“Hey,” Neil said, toeing off his shoes near the bedside table and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “What do you need?”

Thank fuck Neil didn’t waste time on stupid questions like asking how Andrew was feeling. “Water,” he managed to get out, closing his eyes when the mattress moved as Neil got up. He was back in seconds, a large glass of water in his hands. Andrew lifted his head to sip at it, the sandpapery feeling in his throat not going away, but his mouth wasn’t dry, so he counted that as a win.

“I got DayQuil,” Neil said, ripping the plastic packaging off of an orange bottle. “Did you know you have to show an ID when you buy it, now? Apparently ‘cause there’s alcohol in it. That’s what took me so long.”

Andrew attempted to sniff again, trying to work his throbbing head to remember any other interactions with Neil that morning. He was pretty sure that he’d woken Neil up by shoving all the covers away, which led to checking for a fever, which led to Neil checking their medicine supply and… “We have cold medicine,” Andrew managed to say, voice still raspy.

“It’s just for congestion,” Neil said back, pouring some of the orange DayQuil into a small medicine cup. “Here, this will help more.”

Grimacing, Andrew held the medicine cup and debated on pouring it out on the floor. The only thing that stopped him was the thin carpet under their bed, which had been a housewarming gift from Bee. So instead, Andrew attempted to knock back the medicine like a shot, almost spit it out on the sheets, but managed to choke it down. “Water,” he said again.

“You can’t drink water right after drinking medicine,” Neil said, taking the medicine cup back. “Take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

“My head is going to explode,” Andrew huffed, reaching for one of Neil’s hands. Neil reached back, allowing Andrew to tangle their fingers together. “Fix it.”

Neil let himself be moved so that he could brush some of Andrew’s hair away from his forehead, palm feeling for a fever. “Take a shower,” he said again. “I’ll make you some tea. It’ll help.”

“Tea?” Andrew asked, wrinkling his nose at the thought. He’d never had tea in his life, because who needed it when there was coffee?

“Yeah,” Neil agreed, taking his hand back. It was only then that Andrew noticed the way they were shaking just slightly. “Tea. Need help?”

“No,” Andrew grumbled, pushing himself up. His head was still pounding, but the more awake he was, the more manageable it got. He’d survive a quick shower.

Neil was out of the bedroom quickly, leaving Andrew to gather a change of clothes and trudge to their bathroom on his own. He decided to steal some of Neil’s sweatpants - the good ones with the cuffed ankles, because if he was going to suffer then he was going to be comfortable dammit, and his favorite hoodie. The bathroom steamed up quickly, and the longer Andrew spent standing in the shower the less congested and more clear-headed he felt.

Andrew changed and brushed his teeth, decided not to bother combing his hair, and found the bottle of ibuprofen pills, hoping it would clear up the last of the headache he still had. He then walked to the living space, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a pillow, staring at where the cats were sitting in their tower. Neil came by a moment later, placing a steaming mug on the coffee table.

“Want the remote?” Neil asked, arms fidgeting after putting down the mug. “A book? Blanket? You warm enough?”

“Quiet,” Andrew mumbled into the pillow. “Neil, that better not be tea on my coffee table.”

“It’s our coffee table,” Neil reminded him. “We bought the furniture together.”

Dammit, they had, and when Neil had started freaking out about owning furniture, Andrew had calmly told him it was theirs. And for some reason, that had seemed to help out. Maybe it was the idea of not owning something so permanent alone, or maybe it was just something in Neil’s head that Andrew wouldn’t quite understand. “It’s mine when I’m sick,” he decided, lifting his head so he could glare at Neil. “I don’t want it.”

“It’ll help,” Neil said, his voice just barely going quieter and making Andrew feel things. It made him want to do something stupid, like drink the damn tea. “It’s Green Tea. It won’t even taste bad.”

“All tea tastes bad,” Andrew argued, now staring at the mug.

“Try it?” Neil asked, turning to walk back to the kitchen. “I bought some soup, it’ll be easy on your stomach.”

Andrew continued to glare at the mug of tea, deciding now wouldn’t be the best time to ask for ice cream.

The mug was left untouched even after Andrew had sipped some soup and grabbed himself some cough drops. Neil barely let Andrew out of his sight, always hovering around and getting whatever Andrew wanted. It was weird, but that had to be because this was the first time that Andrew had been the sick one. Neil was barely used to taking care of himself, let alone trying to nurture someone else back to health. Andrew was glad that he wasn’t nauseous. He didn’t want to know what Neil would be like if he was.

Unfortunately, Neil seemed pretty set on the tea thing. When Andrew let the first cup go cold, he simply got up and made another one. The second cup was ginger tea, and then after that it was peppermint. Andrew was ready to curse his coffee drinking habit that let him gather so many mugs by the time there were four on the coffee table, all cold and untouched.

“How much tea did you buy?” he dared to ask.

Neil shifted on his feet, which was enough of an answer for Andrew. “I read it would help,” he said, almost sounding upset if Andrew didn’t know better.

“Tea is gross,” he grumbled.

“It’s not,” Neil snapped back, kneeling down to frown in Andrew’s face. Slowly, it melted away. “Sorry. I’m pretty bad at this.”

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, reaching out to grab the nape of Neil’s neck. “But at least you’re pretty.”

That damn fever.

Neil rolled his eyes. “I’m not kissing you when you’re sick. That’s gross.”

A shame, Andrew decided. Instead of asking for one, he pulled Neil closer and shifted on the couch. They both settled down with Neil resting against one of the armrests, Andrew laying his head down in his lap. “My head hurts,” he complained again, trying to blindly find one of Neil’s hands. Thankfully, Neil finally got with the program and started to lightly massage the back of his neck, and Andrew felt like he may have melted.

“You should have some more medicine soon,” Neil pointed out.

“I want coffee ice cream.”

“Of course you do,” Neil snorted, pushing one thumb more firmly against tense muscle when Andrew opened his mouth to complain. “I don’t think ice cream will help.”

“It will,” Andrew weakly argued. His eyes were drooping, as though he was starting to fall asleep.

“Maybe I should call Aaron to check.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tfc #tfc fanfic #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court #jinger's works #andreil #andreil fanfic #andriel

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miniyrds · 4 years ago

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idk maybe it’s time to consider that the choking scene is literally:

“There was a hollow look on Kevin's face and dark bruises on his throat.”

[several pages later]

“Did they tell you who I am?"

"They didn't have to. I choked the answers out of Kevin on the way here.”

[about two chapters later]

“Neil assumed Andrew's territorial streak in Baltimore had a lot to do with Matt's change of heart. "Did he really choke Kevin?"

"Took three of us to pull him off," Matt said.”

i mean, at least it’s not:

Kevin got his hands on Neil's neck in an instant and slammed Neil up against the opposite wall. Neil dug his fingers into Kevin's wrists, trying to loosen Kevin's grip enough that he could breathe. He tried to knee Kevin, but Kevin crushed him against the wall with his own body.

"What the fuck did you call me?" Kevin demanded again.

Neil didn't have the breath to answer. It didn't matter; Kevin's angry voice and the loud smack of Neil's body against the dormitory's concrete walls was enough to fill the hall with Foxes. Andrew was the first to show up in the cousins' doorway, but Matt was the one who went for Kevin. He wrapped an arm around Kevin's throat and wrenched Kevin's head back at a dangerous angle.

"Get off him, Day," Matt snarled.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," Nicky said over Andrew's shoulder. "Come on, Matt."

Kevin let go of Neil with one hand and drove an elbow into Matt's ribs. Matt grunted and tightened his grip, forcing Kevin to release Neil entirely if he hoped to breathe anytime soon. Matt hauled Kevin away from Neil, but Kevin wiggled free two steps later and swung at Matt. Matt deflected it with one swipe and punched Kevin hard enough to send him sprawling.

#tw choking #feeling like causing some chaos #if we're gonna have an issue with one person choking someone let's be consistent :)#tfc #mine #i have nothing left to lose tbh lmao #aftg

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yikesharringrove · 3 years ago

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Egg the Cat

Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Billy had to double-check to make sure he hadn't accidentally followed someone else home from the party.

Because Steve lived in a fucking mansion.

“Jesus Christ .” Billy stared at the house. “You didn’t tell me you’re fucking royalty .” Steve rolled his eyes, leading Billy towards the house.

“Can it. You got the booze?” Billy shook the bottle at him.

Steve looked better. Like maybe he had gotten a bit of a handle on himself.

Billy followed him into the pool of light cast over the porch, the unmistakable scream of a very excited cat sounding from inside.

Steve pushed open the door, bending immediately to scoop up his purring cat, holding her close to him as he went inside.

Billy gave a low whistle as he took off his boots, lining them neatly next to Steve’s shoes.

Steve just climbed the stairs, assumed Billy was following.

Steve’s bedroom was nice enough.

Felt as impersonal as the rest of the gaudy house, but there was a cat tree by the window, and a cat bed Egg ignored in favor of curling up on Steve’s lap as he settled in bed, sitting up against the headboard.

Billy didn’t know what to do with himself.

Last time he was in another boy’s bedroom, very different things were happening.

But then Steve gave him an odd look, eyes flicking to the spot next to himself, and Billy took that as his cue.

“I can’t drink a lot. Gotta be home in three hours.” His dad had a very clear rule about curfew: You miss it, don’t bother coming home.

“This is for me, anyway.” Steve gave him the weakest smile Billy’s ever seen, taking the bottle from Billy’s hand, and taking a long pull.

He grimaced at the taste, gasping for breath.

“That’s fucking rank .”

“Not used to cheap liquor?” Steve swatted at his arm, but took one more pull before passing the bottle to Billy.

Egg was still settled in his lap, and Steve ran long fingers through her dark fur.

“She can always tell when I’m feeling bad. Gets extra snuggly.”

“More snuggly than at the diner?”

“Nah, that was the more. She could tell I had been freaking out looking for her.” Her ear twitched and her tail swished, like she knew they were talking about her. “She’s the smartest cat in the world, I think.” He was quiet for a few moments as Billy took a drink from the bottle. “Took better care ‘a me than Nancy ever did. That’s for damn sure.”

“Sucks that she dumped you like that. All drunk and shit.”

“Isn’t there an expression? Drunk words are sober thoughts? Wish she had gotten drunk a year ago. Woulda saved me a lot of fucking trouble.” Egg perked up, standing to pace on Steve’s lap, curling up again, her chin resting on his tummy. “See? Has a fuckin’ sixth sense for when I’m upset.” She purred, her eyes closing as Steve scratched between her ears, down her back.

“How long have you had her?”

“Like five years? Someone was just, giving her away. Said he didn’t need bad omens, or whatever. ‘Cause she’s a black cat. I think that’s fuckin stupid. She’s brought me nothing but good.” Egg purred again, blinking slowly at Steve, nipping playfully at his fingers.

She really was cute.

Billy had never been much of a cat person, always favored dogs a bit more.

But Egg was so human, the way she tracked their conversation, like she could understand it.

“Man, don’t laugh.” Steve took the bottle from Billy, taking another long pull, shuddering halfway through. “I’m already feelin’ this. Haven’t drunk in so long .”

“Pussy.” Steve huffed a laugh, Egg meowed as his stomach shifted, jostling her head. He let the silence sit for a moment, just watched Steve’s fingers stroke through thick dark fur.

“So, uh, are you like, friends with Tommy?” Steve’s voice was way too measured, his tone far too light and casual.

“Who?”

“Tommy. The guy that was parading you around all night.”

“Oh, uh Karate Kid, guy?”

“Yeah.”

“No. He just kinda started talking at me, told me to do a keg stand. Said the guy that still held the record was a poser.” Steve outright laughed at that.

“Yeah, you broke my record tonight. I’m the poser.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Billy turned to look at Steve, found him smiling this stupid fond smile at the cat on his lap. The room was dim, only one lamp clicked on, throwing a warm glow around the room.

“Can I ask you what happened? You said you used to be hot shit.”

“Nancy.” Steve’s smile evaporated like a flash. “I used to be a real douchebag. Ruled that fucking school. I mean, it’s not like I liked myself. I could definitely be called a bully, like, which sucks. But, you know. I had friends. I was popular. All that.”

“But she didn’t like that.”

“Nope.” Steve made sure to pop the ‘p’. “It’s not like she blatantly said that, but I could tell. I think that, I think that the changes have been good, like I’m nicer to people now. But I kinda cut off all my friends. Just hang out with her most of the time. And now-” Steve trailed off, taking another swig of shitty tequila. “Guess it’s just me and Eggy.”

“You say that like I’m not sitting right here.” Steve smiled at him, a real one, not the tight ones he’s been using all night.

“You hang out with me, you’re gonna be a fucking laughing stock, new kid.”

“Oh, come on. Have you seen me? I could literally never be a laughing stock. If anything, I'll make you cool again.” Steve just hmmmn ed at Billy, his eyes going a little far away.

“I don’t know if I really, really care about that anymore, if I’m being honest.” He swallowed thickly. “Some major shit went down last year. Like, more than Nancy shit. Kinda put things in perspective, I guess.” Egg had sat up, kneading at Steve’s stomach, making a noise like a little cat alarm.

Egg was so in tune with Steve it was utterly fucking ridiculous. They must be wired directly into one another’s brains.

“What kinda major shit?” Steve was quiet. Egg began walking up him, stepping softly until she settled on his chest, her chin resting on his shoulder, little pink nose tucked into his neck.

“Just like, major shit. Like, like people died kinda major.”

“Damn.”

“Like, I legally can’t talk about it kinda major.” Egg sniffed in his neck.

“What, you get mixed up in some kinda lawsuit or some shit?” Steve just sighed.

“Man, I just said I legally can’t say anything.” But he had a ghost of a smile on his face when he turned to look at Billy. “Can I ask you something?”

“Free country.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why Hawkins ?”

“You asked me that like, three times yesterday.”

“And you never answered.”

“I said my dad remarried and wanted a-”

“Fresh start, yeah. But you could move one town over and have that. You could stay in the same damn state and do that. Why Hawkins ?”

There was something more behind Steve’s voice, something strained.

Billy just looked back up at the ceiling.

He had to take a breath, talking himself out of actually telling Steve. Telling him how Neil wanted him out of California, where gay bars were only a short drive away. Where Billy could cruise the piers, where a carefully toned you goin’ my way? could lead to a sloppy blowjob in the car.

Hawkins wasn’t necessarily specific, but Neil had wanted a small, God-fearing town. One where he would know if Billy got up to anything unsavory.

“He found a job here,” he said lamely.

Everything in him was screaming to trust Steve. To tell him the truth. Which was just a fuck of a lot. Billy doesn't trust people. He just does not.

He blames Steve.

Blames those soft brown eyes.

“Well, that’s thrilling .” Billy rolled his eyes, smiling a little to himself.

“What were you expecting?”

“Something more exciting. You moved here from California. That’s like, the coolest place ever .”

“I lived in L.A., too.”

“So like, the coolest place in the coolest place.”

“You ever been?” Steve just gave him a dark look.

“Last time I left the state was ten years ago. My parents took me to Chicago.”

“Damn. You’re like, a true hick, then. Only know this little town.”

“That’s me. Pure hick .” He scratched Egg’s back hip. She purred softly. Billy took another long drink, officially calling that his last one. He needed to be sober by the time he went home. Couldn’t be loud and clumsy as he made his way to his room.

He just pressed the bottle into Steve’s hand.

They spent the rest of the time before Billy had to leave just talking.

It was nice, Steve filling him in on the Hawkins drama, told him which gas stations had better candy selections, that the liquor store on the corner of Haven and Burbank didn’t card. He told him that Andrew Conner always had good weed, but it was cheaper to buy from Lisa Kendle.

And the more Steve drank, the more his eyes drooped, the lazier his smiles got, the closer he scoot to Billy.

He was warm, pressed up to Billy’s side, cat still curled on his chest.

He listened with rapt attention as Billy gave him stories about California, about the boardwalk and metal shows, told him stories of his best hookups, told him they were girls.

He was in the middle of one story, switched out the name from Daniel to something more appropriate, when he looked over, found Steve knocked out, mouth hanging open, tequila dangerously close to spilling, cat sleeping soundly on his chest.

It made Billy falter.

He just took in the scene, wanting to remember it.

He moved slowly, tried not to shift the bed too much, and turned out the light in Steve’s bedroom as he left.

#yikes writes #egg the cat #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i refuse to pay attention in class today thanks

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phantaloon-books · 4 years ago

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I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

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the-chicken-or-the-banana · 3 years ago

Note

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hmm. That wasn't supposed to happen.

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

That wasn't supposed to happen either.

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

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

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

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

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

Idiot.

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

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

What a fucking asshole.

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

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

"Andrew."

"Junkie."

"There is a stepstool right here."

"Yes."

"You didn't use it."

"No."

"... Why?"

Andrew shrugged in response.

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

Nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew squinted. Why the hell would they—

Oh. Oh no, no, no.

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

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

Aaron?!

Andrew was going to kill her.

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

Stupid considerate junkie.

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

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

Andrew glared at Reynolds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not," Allison interrupted.

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

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

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

"That is dumb."

"You're dumb."

"How creative."

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

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

This was proving to be a problem.

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

There really was only one thing left to do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shut up, he scolded himself.

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

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

"WHAT THE FU— "

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

Aaron deflated. "Asshole," he grumped.

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

"Shut up. I'm begging you."

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

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

Three or four months?! That was simply unacceptable.

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

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

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

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

"I refuse to look like a bisexual disaster."

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

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

"Wait, it's a what— "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew nearly stabbed him right then and there.

"Shut. Up."

"Oh my gosh. Andrew. Andrew."

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

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

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

"Holy shit, yes."

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

It had started fine enough.

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

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

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

He shut up and watched his damn Exy.

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

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

Crap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just peachy," he grumbled.

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

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

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

Idiot.

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

"It means wha— "

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

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

Certified Dick™ slowly backed out of the room.

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

Andrew pointed up at the smoke alarm.

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

"Kevin is useless," Andrew announced.

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

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

It never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hmm. This was nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are actually so insufferable."

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

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

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

Yeah, he got why Neil liked this so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew's thoughts came to a halt.

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

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

What.

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

Forehead-to-forehead. Neil could reach him.

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

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

Andrew scowled and kicked him in the leg.

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

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

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

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

"Asshole. We were totally having a moment."

"Next to a bowl of apples."

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

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

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

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

South Carolina winters were shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Since when have you been such a peacemaker?"

"Renee."

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

Andrew shrugged. "Semantics."

"I really don't think— "

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

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

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

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

"Layers. I forgot."

"I didn't."

"Asshole."

"Yup."

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew scowled. How rude.

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

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

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

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

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

His eyelashes were nice. Hmm.

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

"That— I— Andrew!"

"That's my name."

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

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

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

"I could. Not feeling it, though."

"Bastard."

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

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

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

"Oh?"

"Shut up."

"I think you're pretty too."

"198%."

"Kiss me?"

"Ugh, if you insist."

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

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

"NICKY."

"Shit. Sorry!"

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willowbird · 3 years ago

Note

For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)

Ooh definitely!

Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.

Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.

Warning for mentions of blood.

---

"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.

Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.

The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".

Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.

The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.

"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.

Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.

The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.

Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.

Maybe it was Kevin.

That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.

No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.

Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.

It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.

Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.

"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.

The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.

Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."

Andrew froze. "What did you say?"

"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.

The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.

Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.

Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.

Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"

"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."

"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"

Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.

Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.

"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."

"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."

"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."

"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.

"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.

In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.

"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"

"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.

"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.

"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."

"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"

Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"

Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.

All Neil said was, "It's a long story."

As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.

The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.

#asks #AFTG prompts #aftg fanfic #aftg ficlet #andreil #reunion fic #mentions of blood #andrew minyard #neil josten #i have no idea what happened dont ask me lol #ask neil - hes the troublemaker #protective andrew minyard #hurt neil josten

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honestlyzenoouh · 4 years ago

Text

So Hold Me Close

This came to me after i read this post, and my brain went “no, you do it because you have small legs and can’t keep up with your bf” and thus this was born.

Now also on AO3

*****

Neil is a little bewildered. He is not at all complaining about this new development in his relationship with Andrew, just a little confused. Andrew has gotten a little, how do you say it delicately; clingy, after they won the championship. The other foxes hasn’t commented on it yet, but they might not have noticed it. Neil has though. By god has Neil noticed it. Luckily, he doesn’t feel smothered by the clinginess, but it seems like he can’t be more than a couple feet away from Andrew now, before his eyebrow furrowed the smallest amount together. And if enough time passes with neither of them moving closer, Andrew shifts the slightest bit towards which ever direction Neil is in.

Okay, the couple of feet is a bit of an overstatement, when in reality it’s 8 feet and 2 inches. Neil knows, he tested it. Kevin was looking on in severe judgement that day, what with Neil moving half an inch away from Andrew, who was sat gaming with Nicky, waiting a few seconds before glancing at his face to see his reaction. The pinch came at 8 feet even, and the shift came at the infamous 8 feet and two inches.

And again, it’s not as if Neil is complaining. It’s always nice to be able to look around, and be able to immediately spot him. Safe even. But that is not what has gotten Neil confused, oh no, the closeness is just on observation. What Neil is having a hard time wrapping his head around is the fact that Andrew has gotten handsy.

But it’s not even the normal handsy he sees from other couple’s PDA. No, there is no hands on his hips, he isn’t casually touching his ass like Matt sometimes does to Dan, nor is he absentmindedly petting his hair like Allison did to Seth. No, he just. Wants to hold his hand. Or his arm. Or on bad days, his sweater sleeve. And Neil doesn’t get it. He doesn’t mind it, really he doesn’t! Andrew always asks first, or just straight up offers his hands to Neil, and Neil somehow always find himself saying yes and taking his hand, even though he doesn’t get his newfound clinginess.

Neil would just have just put it down as a weird form of affection from Andrew. With both of their shitty childhood, general emotional constipation and mistrust of most physical touch, handholding was an acceptable first type of affection. That is, if it wasn’t for the pattern he noticed 3 weeks after the first incident of handholding.

Andrew doesn’t seem to need to hold his hand when they are staying somewhere. Like if they are in the locker room or in any of the foxes room, the 8 feet and 2 inches seems to be enough for Andrew’s clinginess. But whenever they are going somewhere, it literally doesn’t matter where, Andrew hand shoots out after 15 seconds of walking, and he only lets go when they have reached their destination. Sometimes that is. He has started to linger a little, and by now the other foxes has undoubtedly noticed. They still haven’t said anything, though it looks like Allison really wants to sometimes. And it’s not like she can corner Neil alone to get some answers that way, what with the 8 feet two inches.

It is two weeks after the pattern revelation that Neil finally finds the courage to ask Andrew about it. Just because he doesn’t get it, doesn’t mean he dislikes holding hands with Andrew. He’s actually come to really like it, and what if Andrew stops if he points it out? But he needs answers now, and if Nicky’s few comments on the matter only resulted in scowls and grunts, Neil feels a bit reassured. So they are sitting on the roof, sharing a single cigarette between them, and looking out over the campus. Neil steels himself, gathers his last bit of bravery and opens his mouth. “Andrew?”

Andrew shifts his head towards Neil, indicating he’s listening, and Neil starts to play with his own fingers. A couple more seconds go by, and Neil thinks he has formulated his question harmlessly.

“Why can’t you be more than 8 feet and 2 inches away from me?” Andrew inhales his next lungful of smoke a bit to suddenly, and freezes for maybe two seconds before he exhales. “Riko.” Is all he answers. Neil mulls over his answer for a bit, but can’t find an explanation within it. “What?” he prompts confused.

Andrew exhales again, and Neil could see his arm flexing from the corner of his eyes. Whatever Andrew was about to say, wasn’t something he was happy having to share, but technically, it was his turn in their truths game, and it seemed Andrew knew that as well.

“I was 8 feet and 2 inches away from you when Riko swung.” Now it was Neils turn to freeze. That admission floored Neil, not having excepted such a thought-out answer. Gearing up answer, or maybe getting Andrew to elaborate, he got cut off, because apparently Andrew wasn’t finished yet. He took yet another breath and continued, “Evermore I was not present for, and Binghamton I had you out of my sight for 5 seconds to check on Nicky and you were gone. But with 8 feet and 2 inches I could get to you.” It was quiet for what felt like hours afterwards, with Neil processing and Andrew quietly chain smoking.

“Oh” Was Neil’s answer maybe 4 cigarettes later. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but he also wanted to acknowledged Andrews vulnerability. Andrew shrugged, and Neil finally looked over at him and saw how tense he was. Not really knowing how to make the situation better with words, Neil slowly reached his left hand towards the blond boy, offering the same kind of comfort Andrew has had lately.

Andrew looked from his hand, and up to his face so Neil offered him a small smile and wiggled his fingers a small bit. Andrew huffed at him, but took his hand and intertwined their fingers. With his hand in his, Neil remembered his initial question and kinda blurted it out,

“But what’s with the handholding then? I get the distance, I’m kind of a trouble magnet, but why hold my hand? That doesn’t seem necessary.” Andrew huffed out his version of a self deprecating laugh. “You are fast, and have longer legs than me.”

“So what? The handholding is just you making sure we are walking in the same tempo, and you don’t lose me in a crowd?”

“Maybe not so stupid after all” At this point that is just flat out slander against Neil Josten.

*****

I have no clue how to end this, so I give you this! There you go, hope you like it. This is my first completed and posted fic

#Andreil #Andriel #all for the gay #all for the game #aftg #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #oneshot #is this angsty? if you squint i guess #my writing #Zenoouh writes

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wesninski-hatford · 4 years ago

Text

The Foxes go out on a vacation for Neil’s graduation party and they want it to be a surprise

Nicky and Allison are the only ones who know where they’re going

Even Andrew and Dan don’t know

So when they pick everyone up and just tell Neil to trust them, he’s like well, okay, fuck it

So yeah, Andrew’s driving with instructions to just follow Allison’s car and they end up driving for a pretty long time

Neil falls asleep, as do a lot of the occupants in the car apart from Andrew and Nicky

But then Neil wakes up and sees where they’re going

As soon as he catches sight of sand and hears the roar of an ocean, he’s bombarded with memories

The strange absence of breathing beside him

A rock-hard abdomen

Blood covering vinyl

Flames destroying the one person he could trust

Bones in a backpack

A disturbed patch of sand where his mother lays

Andrew stops the car right then and there as he hears Neil’s wheezing breaths and remembers what he told him, a truth he had exchanged

Nicky is panicking and it ends up waking Kevin and Aaron

“What’s wrong with him? Is he okay? What’s happening?” Nicky is freaking out

“Shut up.” Andrew resumes driving and as soon as Allison’s car stops, he wrenches open the door and gets Neil out of the car

“Neil.” No response. His eyes are glazed and he’s flinching at every contact and sound

“Your name is Neil Josten. You are twenty-three years old. You are starting striker and captain of the Palmetto State Foxes. You are number ten. You are no longer on the run.”

“‘Drew. An—Andrew.” Neil’s still not quite in the present, but he’s coming back.

Allison and the rest of the upperclassmen have noticed Neil’s situation and are rushing over, Aaron of all people tells them to stay back and give him his space

Andrew makes sure to keep pressure on the spot on Neil’s neck. Without looking back at Allison, he asks where they’re staying

She points at a house that’s only a few yards away

Andrew, without much fanfare, carries Neil there and at random, picks a room

He blocks any and all sight of the beach and faces Neil again

He’s pale and sweating and shaking, but he’s here

“Neil.”

“‘Drew?”

“Can you be here?”

“I’m fi—“ an glare from Andrew “Yes, I just... wasn’t expecting it and was caught off guard. The others, are—“

“They’re fine.”

“Okay. Should we—“

“No, you need to calm down first.” By that, he meant that he needed to make sure he wasn’t going to murder Nicky and Allison

A nod, he heard the unspoken words between them

A couple of hours later, Neil’s stomach was protesting the long drive and they ended up finally getting out of the room

Immediately, they were bombarded by a guilty-looking Nicky, and various looks of panic and concern

“Neil...” Nicky seemed on the verge of tears.

“I’m fine.” Neil ignored Andrew’s look

“What was that?” Allison never had much tact, did she?

“I’ll explain later. After we eat.” Everyone murmured agreements and they went out in search of a restaurant

When they walked across the beach, Neil’s fingers dug into Andrew’s arm as he tried to control his breathing

Thankfully, the restaurant had no view of the beach. They ended up having some seafood and had a pretty good time.

They get back to the beach and Neil just stops walking and sits down, no warning

Matt almost walks over him and only some backliner footwork prevents it

No one knows what to do and Andrew just sits down next to Neil and everyone else just shrugs and they end up sitting in a circle on the sand

The sun is setting and the sky is beautiful, but Neil is staring at his hands, eyes blank

He unprompted says “My mom died on a beach.”

Any quiet conversations that had been going on stop in their tracks. Neil never talks about his past and it’s an even rarer occasion when he talks about the woman who fucked him up his mother

“My father’s men caught up to us and she got hurt. She told me she was fine and yelled at me to just drive, ‘don’t look back, don’t you dare panic, just drive’.

I complied, of course I did. But after a few hours, I heard mom stop breathing. I remember being so, so scared. I drove the car off the road and onto a beach.

When I went to check her pulse, there was nothing there to greet me. Her skin was already cold and I checked her wound. She had lied to me. She wasn’t fine and she didn’t tell me, dammit!

I tried to get her out of the car, but... the sound of her dried blood ripping off the seat, the feel of her cold skin against mine... I couldn’t.

So I took every drop of gasoline I could find, gathered my belongings in my duffle bag, and lit the car on fire. I was lucky no one saw it, I don’t know why I was being so reckless, but then again, I was a seventeen year old who had just lit the car with his mother’s dead body in it on fire.

So I sat there, watching the flames. When the fire stopped and the car had cooled, I took her bones out of the seat. I put them in a backpack and walked a little while over. I buried her bones and without letting myself feel anything, I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran until I came across a motel.

I knew it was where one of the stashes with money and supplies were so I went, cleaned myself up, and collected all I could. I spent the night and hitchhiked until I got to bumfuck nowhere. I took on my twenty-third identity. I became Neil Josten, changed my appearance, and signed up for striker on Millport High’s Exy team.

Then, one day, a man with tattoos, Kevin Day, and a midget blond with a racquet smacked into me. Literally. You guys know the rest of the story.”

When Neil looked up, he was afraid of what he would see.

Nicky was crying

Allison was just struck speechless, grief clear on her face

Dan... Dan was interesting, she appeared angry

“Dan, are you okay?”

“You...” she trailed off and looked up, muttering something that sounded like “Fuck you, Mary Hatford”

Neil decided to ignore that

Matt was clenching his fists and crying, an arm around Dan

Aaron was staring at Neil with a weird sort of... understanding (??) in his eyes

Kevin had an expression on his face that Neil wasn’t sure he wanted to decipher

Renee had her blank mask on, a bit of Natalie was slipping through. But after a few seconds, she went back to Renee and just gave Neil’s hand a squeeze

Andrew. Andrew was staring directly at him, unflinching and solid, as he always was. His anchor, his home. He nodded at Neil, probably seeing everything and more written on his face.

Silence was thick and heavy and ruled with a heavy mist so thick, the air was eaten up. Then, one sharp laugh cut through it. Everyone, bewildered, turned to look at Allison.

“Of course Neil has to have an issue with the one place we chose for a celebratory vacation.”

“One man can only have so many problems,” Andrew agreed.

The tension broke, and even Nicky, soft Nicky started to breathe easier.

Dan looked at Neil as the laughter faded. “You can always come to us about things.”

He smiled at her and nodded. “I know.”

The rest of the trip actually went well, the others went to the beach while Andrew and Neil stayed in. They didn’t mind.

#aftg #all for the game

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percontaion-points · 3 years ago

Text

Raven King chapter 7

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 7

He hadn't said anything last night, maybe too tired to demand an explanation for last night's fiasco...

Look, I don't like any of these characters. But I'm also not going to sit here and let David drag Neil through the mud simply because Riko thinks that threatening to murder people is a personality trait.

"Tell me why someone who came here early to get away from his parents and who flinched away from me the first time he thought I was going to strike him goes so far out of his way to offend someone like Riko Moriyama. I would have thought you'd have better survival instincts."

He's not wrong. Considering that Neil keeps wanking off about how he has to keep his head down and survive, he sure is going out of his way to do the exact opposite. Signing to a college sportsball team, going out of his way to be around not only Kevin, but also Riko.

Neil is so fucking stupid, and I can't deal.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Wymack asked, coming to rejoin him at the table. "Your parents must be something else."

Coach David: I'm going to have a team of nothing but children who are troubled. They deserve second chances.

The children: *act out because they've never had a positive influence in their lives, and don't know any better*

Coach David: *surprised pikachu face*

"I didn't know," Neil repeated. "Until Coach told me about the Moriyamas this May I knew nothing about Riko's family. After that I thought maybe that's why we met so long ago. I thought Riko's father and mine were discussing territories and borders. But last night Riko said my father belongs to the Moriyamas. What did he mean by that? Why did he say he bought me?"

"Don't lie to me," Kevin said. "We are in enough trouble as it is."

"My mother didn't tell me why we were running," Neil said. "I never asked her why she finally had enough. I was just glad to get away. We never talked about anything real after that. It was always about the weather or our current language or the local culture—the next time she had anything meaningful to say to me was when she was dying. Even then she didn't talk about my father. Not once did she mention the Moriyamas. If she had, I wouldn't be here right now, would I? So tell me the truth."

I get that Neil was a literal child when all of that happened. But after drilling into Neil's head about needing to be on the run, of needing to keep his head down... AND SHE COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO EXPLAIN TO HIM WHY HE NEEDED TO DO THAT?!

Like Neil isn't smart, but I'm honestly blaming a lot of that about his mother failing to teach him fucking anything.

"You were a gift, another player for the master to train. You had two days to win him over: an initial scrimmage with us to show off your potential and a second scrimmage to prove you could adapt to and implement his instructions and criticisms. If afterward he decided you weren't worth his time you would be executed by your own father."

Neil swallowed hard. "How did I do?"

"Your mother wouldn't risk failure," Kevin said. "You never made it to the second practice. She disappeared with you overnight."

The heat in Neil's stomach could have been nausea or rage, but he didn't know who he was angry at. His mother had hated his fascination with Exy his entire life. She'd told him over and over he'd never touch a racquet again but she never told him why. He couldn't understand why she had never explained the totality of what they were running from.

ONE FIVE MINUTE CONVERSATION, AND THIS ENTIRE SHITTY SITUATION COULD HAVE BEEN 100% AVOIDED.

COMMUNICATION IS FOR FUCKING SQUARES.

By 'the girls' she meant her stage sisters. Dan, aka Hennessey, had gotten a fake ID back in high school so she could work as a stripper in a nearby city.

Casually mentions child sex workers like it's not a big deal.

"Listen up. There's obsession and there's dysfunction. You can't make Exy your end-all be-all. This won't last forever, okay? You'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? You gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies?"

Somebody had to fucking say it.

Neil thought of his mother's heavy fists on his skin and her fingers knotting in his hair. She'd told him time and time again girls were dangerous.

So his mother beat him until he didn't like girls, but couldn't be bothered to do the same thing about liking exy?

He dragged his attention back to the task at hand and vowed never to listen to Nicky again.

Chapter 7 summary: Neil wakes up on David's couch. He thinks about sneaking out to avoid the confrontation he knows is coming, but decides to get it over with. He tries the old “he started it” route, but David doesn't buy it. When Neil brings up how everybody is of the opinion that Seth was killed, David calls him out on his bullshit. That Seth was a junkie, and Andrew should keep his BS conspiracies to himself.

They go to the stadium, where Neil has his conversation with Kevin. Says that he gambled on Kevin not remembering since Kevin showed no sign of acknowledgment when Kevin went with David to recruit Neil. But he goes on and says that he didn't know about how his father “belonged” to the Moriyamas, and didn't know why he and his mother went on the run. Kevin explains to Neil about how nepotism topples empires, and the head of the Moriyama family wanted for Neil to earn his keep. Wanted Neil to become another little Kevin and Riko. But Neil's mom freaked out over the thought of them murdering a literal child and took off before the guy could decide if Neil would be worth living or not. As I keep saying, it sounds like all of Neil's current shit falls back on his mother's inability to inform him of important stuff.

Kevin tells Neil to run off and continue hiding. To survive. Neil says that he's tired of being on the run constantly. Says that Andrew seems to think that the foxes constant publicity will keep the Moriyama family from murdering him. Kevin says that Neil knows too much, and that even a TV appearance won't stop them. Tells him to go. Neil refuses, and insists he's going to stay. Kevin promises to keep up their nightly practices. They briefly talk about why it is that Andrew is so obsessed with Neil, without moving the plot along.

Some time passes, and Neil tries to bury himself in practice but ignores the news. Then, because this book is hurting for plot, we get a random conversation with Dan about casual sexism and sex work. The book tries and fails to breathe life into the other background characters. There's this really unholy passage about Nicky and Neil talking about Andrew necking on a cheerleader and it's upsetting Andrew. NOBODY FUCKING CARES.

Nicky then starts to talk about how the twin's mother gave both of them up, one ended with his aunt, and the other in foster care. But none of this is new info to the readers, so... move on already. He also mentions that their aunt died, and thinks that Andrew murdered her. Neil believes this. He also off-handedly mentions about how Andrew saved him from being beaten by some homophobic assholes, but got court-ordered drug therapy as thanks.

He then spends a long time talking about Christianity and homosexuality. And it's a heavy topic for sure, but I'm not sure if this is the right book for this. Especially since this is immediately bookended with Nicky telling Neil that playing sports isn't a personality.

#All For The Game #The Raven King #chapter 07 #Neil Josten #David Wymack #Riko Moriyama #shitty people doing shitty things #you are stupid and you deserve to be eaten by zombies #HEADDESKING #I cannot deal with this #shitty parents are shitty #runs on miscommunication #can we not #Nicky Hemmick #playing sports is not a personality trait

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aftgsucks · 3 years ago

Text

No More Fucks To Give

Chapter Two Babeeee: I Always Wanted to Be Road Runner

Ao3 link:

Chapter under cut:

On Kevin’s orders Aaron and Nicky brought Neil back into the locker room. He went straight to his locker and opened it. Staring at the padding, the uniform, the helmet- all his. He pulled out a bright neon orange windbreaker.

“Satellites can pick these up in outer space,” he said. He’d never wear something so eye catching, attention grabbing. His mother would- well Neil realizes, it doesn’t really matter in the end does it. She can’t voice her concerns and Neil was done running anyways.

Nicky laughed. “Dan commissioned them her first year here. She said she was tired of everyone trying to look past us. People want to pretend people like us don’t exist, you know? Everyone hopes we’re someone else’s problem to solve.” He reached out and touched the material of Neil’s jacket. “They don’t understand, so they don’t know where to start. They feel overwhelmed and give up before they’ve taken the first step.”

Neil slowly pulled the jacket out of Nicky’s fingers and Nicky gave himself a small shake. Replacing his melancholy with cheer and a smile to rival Andrew’s. “You know we donate a portion of ticket sales to charity? Our tickets cost a little more than anyone else’s because of it. Renee’s idea. Told you she’s pure gold. Now come on, let’s get you looking foxy.”

Nicky turned away to get his own gear. Neil thought about grabbing his gear and stuffing himself into a bathroom stall. Then he thought about having to do that, everyday, multiple times a day until he literally died. About losing time to waiting for the showers to be empty, just to make sure no one saw his skin. They were foxes, right? While Neil wouldn’t expect anyone to have as many scars as him, he’s sure that they all have their fair share. The fair share any normally fucked up kid would have. There’s a good chance they wouldn’t even ask.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. It didn’t matter, in all likelihood he’d probably be dead before the seasons even over. What does it matter if anyone sees his scars? He pulled off his shirt. He reached for the shoulder and chest padding. For a minute as he worked the straps he didn’t hear anything, he almost breathed out in relief.

“Are you okay?” Nicky asked, his voice going up a whole octave. Neil sighed. And looked over, the man’s eyes were wide and glassy with whatever assumption he was making.

Neil was aware that his chest was a wasteland, bullet holes, knife scars, road rash, and a iron burn. It was upsetting to look at. More so to talk about, but maybe doing this now would be beneficial? Nicky seemed… talkative to say the least. One conversation with him and the whole team would know. So he would probably be let off the hook of talking about them again. He opened his mouth to speak, when Aaron walked into the room. His eyebrows immediately reaching for the sky.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Aaron asked tactfully.

“I fought a bear.” Neil deadpanned.

“A bear with a gun” Aaron pointed out.

“You’ve got me, it was a comedic cartoon chase scene,” he slapped the long scar from where he jumped out of a moving car, “this is where the piano hit me, can we get dressed now?”

Aaron looked pissed off but went to his locker, Nicky’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“I’m fine” he told him, Nicky might be annoyingly talkative and nosey, but he had only met the guy about an hour earlier and he did seem nice. Neil wouldn’t really know, he wasn’t one to judge. Nicky stared at him for a long moment and then turned away. His eyes far too- something for someone who had only just met Neil.

The awkward tension stuck around as they got dressed, but Neil ignored it in favor of focusing on his uniform. Everything fit him perfectly, work out clothes, pads, guards, shoes. There was an orange bandana to pull back his hair. When he was done, he was as orange as the court. He looked like a fox.

He followed Nicky and Aaron out of the locker room and unlocked the gear closet. And then Neil had a racquet in his hands. Ordered for him, his. At Millport he’d used a racquet that had probably existed as long as Exy had. But this was his.

He had so many belongings now, he realized. He wasn’t running after this, so all this gear was His. Actually his for the rest of his life. Neil pulled on the netting, admiring how clean the laces were. He hoped they wouldn’t just throw it out when he died. The clothes had his name printed on it, so those would get tossed- probably. But the racquet could be reused, or donated at least.

Neil unlocked the door to the inner court and finally he was playing Exy. Well being taught drills by Nicky and Aaron as Kevin watched and Andrew slept somewhere. But it was still Exy, an hour and a half of Exy with two college level athletes. Not the best players on the team- much less in the league, but far better then anyone Neil had played in high school.

It did result in Neil being in a slightly more agreeable mood when faced with Kevin and a smiling Andrew for his review.

“This is going to be a very long season.” Kevin said.

“Sure,” Neil didn’t really agree, personally. But he understood the nuance of perspective.

“You’re never gonna get there on your own, so give your game to me.”

“There?”

Kevin reached out and grabbed onto the netting of Neil’s racquet, he tugged on it. But Neil kept ahold of it- it was his.

“If you can’t figure that out there’s no helping you,” Kevin said.

Help was almost more ridiculous then the mythic ‘there’ that Kevin thought Neil could reach. There was only one way this would end and it wasn’t going pro. Although, Neil doubted Kevin would react well to that fact.

Kevin reached up with his free hand towards Neil’s face and Neil stepped back.

“No thanks,” Neil said before he could really think about it. “To whatever the fuck this is,” he added with a gesture to Kevin’s person. Neil yanked the racket out of Kevin’s grip. “You can have my game as long as I’m on the team. But that’s it, Kevin- anything outside of that is too much work.” and too much collateral.

Kevin stared at him for a moment.

“That’ll have to do then,” Kevin agreed with a sigh. Andrew started laughing.

“Guess your protege isn’t as obsessive as you are Kevin. How sad. Let’s go, I need food.” Andrew said.

Neil didn’t bother to correct or comment. He just turned and went inside.

The showers had stalls, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision to not hide his scars. He didn’t have the time to waste keeping useless secrets. Or dwelling for that matter. So Neil showered and headed out to the car to go to dinner.

Abby seemed nice, the whole night took on a texture of film, disjointed and not quite there. Neil watched them all eat and talk. Part of him observing and making notes, cataloging the foxes he’d met.

Betsy Dobson could be a problem, Neil didn’t have much experience with therapists. He couldn’t imagine that his past or mental state would get him anywhere with her other than a professional institution or a frustratingly early grave. At least she wasn’t at dinner, Neil had time to come up with a plan. Figure out what approach he’d take to her.

Aaron and Nicky were annoying, but Neil didn’t imagine he’d actually have to interact with either of them much. Kevin on the other hand was irritating and Neil would need to interact with him alot. He was Exy incarnate, Neil already knew that it wasn’t enough to just play until he died. Neil needed to play good- make it really worth the time.

Andrew had the potential to be a problem, the drugs made him unsettling. Neil’s father and his goons had gladly killed plenty of people, but their smiles never stayed on very long. They were professionals. Andrew’s grin and glee both had staying power. But Neil didn’t know enough about him to be properly afraid or dismissive.

All he knew is that Andrew was planning something and that it would be an inconvenience whenever it came about.

Wymack was as easy to understand as Neil’s own unease around the man. David Wymack was a bleeding heart, but he was also a middle aged man roughly the size of Neil’s own father. Neil would likely never be comfortable around him.

Neil processed all of this, but mostly while he sat at the dinner table in Abby Winfield’s house Neil was struck with the fact that this was his first time in a furnished house eating home cooked food in a very long time.

He’d known from the moment he met Andrew- and from the bruise he’d gotten from the encounter- that the Foxes wouldn’t leave him unscathed. But he’d also known they wouldn’t be able to hurt him in a way that really mattered. Or kill him. Neil knew exactly who was going to kill him, and He was still in prison.

But sitting at the table, Neil was faced that maybe this would be nicer than just the amenities he usually went without. He’d expected regular meals, but maybe more than that the food would be good.

Neil hesitated again the next day before taking off his shirt. All five of the others in there with him, he had no doubt that Nicky and Aaron had reported back about his scars. Neil only needed to deal with this once more after this. With people seeing his scars for the first time. He pulled off his shirt.

“He tells the truth,” Andrew whistled, “Neil really has survived worse than your driving Nicky.”

Neil ignored the comment.

“And what calamity did you survive, roadkill?” Andrew asked.

Neil looked up at the ceiling for strength and found stains.

“I fell in a woodchipper.” He told Andrew. Everyone was staring at him, except Aaron who was actually getting changed.

“Is this going to be an issue?” Kevin asked, gesturing at Neil’s body.

“Not if everyone minds their own business.” Neil started pulling on his equipment, pointedly.

“It’s our business as long as you’re here Neil. Who gave you all the ouchies? Mommy and daddy?” Andrew pressed.

“Got caught between Roadrunner and Wile E coyote, those fake tunnels really do a number on a guy.” Neil used to watch episodes alone in motels while Mary was out, the sound turned all the way off so he could listen for someone trying the door. He never really figured out which he related to more, but the cartoon had fascinated him.

“An athlete, a student, and a comedian. I can’t wait to find out what else you can do.”

“Listen Andrew, I’m sure you’re great at making yourself a nuisance. But I’m not here for your entertainment, so find some other dancing monkey to poke with a stick. Whatever you want from me, unless it’s Exy you're not getting it.” Neil shut his locker and made to leave.

“I will solve you.” Andrew stepped in front of him.

“Not a math problem, so fuck off.” Neil stepped around him, shouldering his way out of the room.

Practice was, predictably, hell. For all forty minutes of it before Kevin sent the others away. Leaving a suddenly participating andrew in the goal, who smashed Neil’s every attempt back to the other side of the fucking court. Of course there was a reason that Andrew had gotten on the team- had gotten him and his family on the team- had Kevin’s attention. Andrew was one of the best at a game he mostly didn’t try at.

It was equal parts amazing and infuriating. Neil would wager the Foxes could actually be something if Andrew ever decided to give a shit. But if Neil cared more he wouldn’t even be there- so who was he to talk.

His arms started burning as he fired shot after shot at Andrew. For a minute he couldn’t stop and he could see it in his mind, firing until he collapsed. Having to shamble back to Wymacks apartment his arms completely shot. And then he stopped.

“I’m done.” He told Andrew, panting and leaning on his racquet.

“Giving up so soon? I thought Exy was all you were here for?”

“It sure is, have a good night.” Neil turned and left.

Neil was absolutely going to die from his own stupidity but not before he played in an actual game. Or slept in a real bed. He had standards. And if he couldn’t score on Andrew at his best, he definitely wouldn’t get anything past him exhausted and sore.

Willingly getting injured for a pissing contest wouldn’t do anything but put Neil in a position he didn’t care to be in- overexerted.

He jogged back to Wymack’s apartment and found the door unlocked. Wymack was waiting in the kitchen with a can of coffee grinds.

“Kevin called ahead to say you wouldn’t be on the court tomorrow and that I should entertain you with clips of past games. He said you tried to blow your arms against Andrew. I said you weren’t that stupid. Which one of us is right?”

“Well I am stupid,” Neil started, Wymack’s eyebrow shot up. “But my arms are fine. Everyone does realize that I need my arms to play Exy- right?”

Wymack tossed the can of coffee grinds at Neil, who caught it on extinct and then tossed it back, Wymack fumbled with the can, it slipped through his fingers and slamming on the floor. Grinds spilled out at his feet. He let out a growled curse looking down at the mess.

“Did you blow out your arms?” Neil asked. Proud of himself for not reacting to the yell. Showing fear never helped anything.

“I’m just old smart ass.” Wymack shot back, crouching down over the spill. “I’ll clean it up, just there’s leftovers on the counter. Take care of yourself.”

Ha, Neil almost laughed. Take care of himself- if Neil were to do that he’d get onto a plane to Brazil and find some empty house to sit in until he was old and grey and everyone who had known his first name was long buried.

But instead he ate leftover chinese food while Wymack vacuumed and then he passed out on the couch.

It didn’t take Neil long to realize that he’d never live up to Kevin’s standards. Every practice was an exercise in Neil’s temper, Kevin berating him and giving him disapproving looks as if he weren’t the one to fly to Arizona to ask neil to join. As if Kevin hadn’t known he was getting an inexperienced rookie the second he saw the tape Hernandez had sent.

Kevin was in the middle of a rant about footwork when Neil had a realization that put his budding rage to rest. It didn’t matter. They couldn’t kick him off the team, so he’d get to play. And he wouldn’t live long enough to reach Kevin’s standards. There was no point in getting frustrated over immutable reality.

So, Neil dissected Kevin’s critiques. Throwing aside everything that wasn’t instruction. The insults and the disappointment wouldn’t change. He imagined Kevin cursing out a fallen racquet. That’s all Neil would be in the end- all the good it’d do the foxes.

Kevin didn’t know his words were wasted, but it was better that way. If they knew he wouldn’t be there the whole season Neil would never get a chance to play.

So everyday was for Exy, practice, working out, running. But Neil wouldn’t break himself for Kevin’s sake.

Neil thought of nothing at night, staring up at Wymack’s ceiling until sleep finally stole him. He went to bed sore but not in pain. If thoughts started to seep in, he’d get up and go for a walk. Rambling about the campus, taking stock of the buildings that were still closed for the summer. Noting entrances and window heights out of mindless habit.

One night his walk led him past the Foxhole Court, he almost walked straight past it when he realized the cousins’ car was parked in front of it. Neil’s curiosity won out and he slipped inside the building, checking every room before finally going into the stadium proper to see who was there so late.

He found Kevin fierce, merciless, and mechanical driving ball after ball into the same spot on the plexiglass wall. After a minute of watching Neil felt an intense stare trying to beam through the side of his face- the look could only belong to one man. Neil didn’t bother looking for Andrew, just raised his voice enough to make sure Minyard heard him.

“Always watching, huh?”

“Keeping all my ducks in a row.” Andrew deadpanned somewhere from Neil's left.

“Do any of them ever actually quack?” Neil asked. After a moment of too long silence, he finally turned. Finding Andrew staring at him with a worryingly blank expression. Well worrying until Neil’s brain put together that Andrew probably needed to be closer to sober to sleep.

“Just how stupid are you?” Andrew asked.

“I’m here aren’t I,” Neil shrugged. He noted the long black armbands Andrew was wearing. It was the first time Neil had seen him in regular clothes- instead of the uniform or Aaron cosplay. Nicky had babbled about them before, saying the bands were some kind of joke to tell the twins apart.

But if that were true why wear them at night.

“Willingly playing Exy is moronic.” Andrew agreed.

“Do you really hate it that much?”

“I don’t care about Exy enough to hate it. It’s just slightly less boring than living is, so I put up with it for now.”

“I think it’s fun, but to each their own I guess.” Neil figured most people would argue living was better than playing exy. But here Neil was dying to play it.

“Something as pointless as this game is can never be fun.”

“Pointless,” Neil echoed. “You’re good though, it probably could have a point for you past just playing.”

“Flattery is uninteresting and gets you nowhere.”

“Where the fuck would I be trying to go? I’m just stating facts. Playing at all is enough for me, you? You could actually be someone.”

“So little ambition, Kevin says you’ll be a champion. Four years and you’ll go pro. Five years and you’ll be Court. He promised Coach. He promised the school board. He argued until they signed off on you.”

“He- what?” This had to be another weird inane test everyone in Palmetto loved to give him. The twins switcheroo, the shootout, Wymack throwing his fucking coffee. Everyone was testing him for more then his patience but Neil didn’t see what the fucking end goal was. What was he meant to be studying for? Neil dragged a hand across his face. “What’s the point of this?”

“Why would someone with all that potential, who has so much fun, who could “be someone” settle for any less?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“If that were true you wouldn’t be asking. What do you want from me?”

“I want nothing.”

“Holy shit, you know what? It is too late at night for your shit. Whenever you figure out the reason you won’t get off my ass, let me know.” Neil turned and started heading for the door.

“What are you doing here?” Kevin asked, having evidently finished up his late night practice.

“Out for a walk.” Neil answered without slowing.

Court. Even if Andrew were telling the truth, Neil really couldn’t tell. As far as he knew Kevin hated him but either way- court? It was never going to happen. Neil didn’t even let himself imagine it. He may have given up on living and accepted his rapidly approaching demise at the hands of all his worst fears. But Neil wasn’t a masochist. And he sure as fuck wasn’t delusional.

He’d never be anyone, he’d never really been anyone to begin with. He was twenty-two identity crisis’ in a hoodie with an expiration date long over do.

Don’t look back, don’t slow down, don’t trust anyone, be anyone but himself and never be anyone for long. His mother’s dying words- the mantra she’d told him since that first night they’d ran. It hadn’t saved her, and it wouldn’t save Neil.

Not long enough for Wymack’s contract to run up, for Kevin to see him as anything but a disappointment, or for whatever it was Andrew really wanted. Even if Neil made it through this year, there’s no way his luck would hold out for a second. He’d have no graduation, as much as he wanted to be Road Runner, always getting out at the last second scott free, Neil knew that the punchline always landed on him.

Ambition was as pointless for him as Andrew thought Exy was.

Neil jogged around the campus until he settled in his skin again. Then he went back to Wymacks, careful not to let the door creak as he snuck back in and laid back down on the couch.

Neil woke up the next morning and went into the kitchen for coffee- finding Wymack staring intensely at his phone. Neil didn’t ask, he turned on the coffee maker and very pointedly did not want to know what had Wymack looking as if his phone had called him names and kicked him in the throat.

“Neil, why don’t you sit down a minute- I need to talk to you about something.” Wymack said.

Neil got his coffee first and then he sat down. Some distant anxious part of him thought that Wymack had figured out who he was and was going to kick him off the team or hand deliver him to Nathan to keep his team safe.

“What do you know about the Ravens?” Wymack asked.

#aftg #fanfiction #all for the game fic #No More Fucks To Give

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