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ashiemochi · 2 years ago

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anubussy - xi (ii)

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

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“I’ll go.” Chris quickly recovered, hissing at the lingering pain within his body, “Keep him busy.”

“Got it.” So Ah gave him a nod and he entered the room, opting to get the vaccine through there.

She returned her attention to Leon who was on the ground and released a heavy sigh of relief, going to run up to him but Arias had long gotten up.

“Leon!” So Ah cried out, trying to warn him and he looked at her only for Arias to pick him up like some claw machine where Leon was the plushie.

Leon huffed at the tight grip, hitting the giant hand before he got fucking thrown across the roof. A loud grunt came from him when he hit the wall and hit the ground, yet he took out his gun to shoot. It was a different gun this time, having switched his handgun to a magnum that was in his thigh holster.

She recognized the model – all DSO members were given a Senitle Nine and a Desert Eagle. Bummer, she really wanted new weaponry – the ones she owned, a Matilda and a Barret M82.

She didn’t even know if she was still a part of the DSO anymore.

So Ah followed suit but didn’t shoot, taking out her gun as Arias booked it down the roof, heading straight to Leon who kept shooting him. So Ah was more so afraid to accidentally hit Leon instead because those two were moving around too much.

Arias threw a punch towards him but Leon jumped and rolled to the side. He sped up to him, dodging another hit and he used Arias’ leg for leverage, swinging through his legs as he kept firing.

A frustrated growl came from Arias as he approached him, swinging his arm with a clenched fist. Leon hurriedly back-rolled onto his feet. To evade the next attack, he used it to his advantage, letting Arias send him into the air.

So Ah stood dumbfounded at how Leon was handling it. Seriously, does anything have to be absolutely dangerous with him?

She let out a hitched gasp, stepping forward when Arias kicked Leon, sending him halfway over the edge. Leon was visibly panting heavily, shocked at quite literally hanging from the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York.

Guess I’m up.

So Ah swallowed thickly to herself, biting into her gold-coloured hair tie to slip her hand out. She tied her hair up, for a moment forgetting about the back of her neck, and brushed her curtain bangs back.

“Arias!”

He snapped his head towards So Ah, expecting to see her aiming at him but she wasn’t. Her gun was in Rebecca’s direction. Her eyes were in a glare, making her cinnamons appear as if they were filled with fire.

She knew he wanted Rebecca to turn – in fact, he preferred her to be shot down by Chris rather than the Han girl.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Arias countered, turning to face her, not believing her.

“Wanna bet?” So Ah shot back, kicking back the hammer, “I’ve done this before.”

Would she do it? Absolutely not, she doesn’t go after innocent people.

Did he know that? Vaguely.

He also was aware of who killed his little mole with the H-Virus. This girl could be a cold-blooded murderer now and take away his only leverage – he didn’t want to risk it.

To So Ah, while it seemed as if she was aiming at Rebecca, she was in fact pointing to the potted plant three feet away from her, but from Arias’ vision, she had her gun on the girl.

Arias snarled as he started approaching her, effectively forgetting about Leon. So Ah snapped her aim at him, shooting him. He, as she had expected, didn’t seem bothered till she shifted her fire to the glowing heart.

He stumbled back and that was when the light bulb appeared on her head – along with an exclamation point when her gun clicked. A smirk stretched across his face, walking towards her almost menacingly.

The gun clanked when she tossed it aside, reaching for yet another grenade she definitely did not steal but borrowed from her belt. It was blue and she gripped it tight.

Then she ran up to him, unpinning it and throwing it right under his feet. The world went bright for a moment, sending a lingering ringing sound in her ears as her eyes burned at the flashbang detonating.

Arias groaned when the light blinded him momentarily and she took her chance to jump, using the edge of the railing for leverage. She landed a kick to his jaw, sending him staggering back.

She should’ve known that mutated beings can only be blinded for so long – his hand grabbed her midair, forcing a sharp gasp from her. He held her leg upside down, watching her struggle to let him go, kicking his hand.

“We could’ve been so powerful with that virus of yours.” Arias sneered lowly, noticing how her eyes were starting to go hazy at the blood rushing to her head.

So Ah wanted to throw up at the mere thought of working with someone as psychotic as him, snapping through her teeth as her hands were holding down her skirt, “Over my dead body.”

He merely shrugged, “What a shame.”

Everything around her was blurred when he hurled her through the glass walls. A loud ack was the last thing she managed to utter, her back hitting and bending the steel rims of the slide doors. It shattered the glass, sending her falling face down to the ground onto the many sharp panes.

She let out a sharp cry when something dug into her upper thigh, the burn intensifying more in her spinal cord. Her ears had gone deaf to Leon calling out for her, followed by more gunshots.

The world around her was spinning, opening her eyes wearily at the pounding in her ears urging her to get up. Everything was fading in and out of its blurry state as she blinked, trying to recover as quickly as possible.

Goddamn this virus and its hypocrisy.

Her head felt heavy when she lifted it up, groaning under her breath when her hair cascaded over her shoulder and face. She doesn’t even remember when her hair tie slipped, too tired to try and remember.

“Leon…” Her voice came out in a whisper, scanning the roof for him. Her eyes landed on Rebecca who was getting worse and she just tilted her head down, shutting her eyes for a moment.

Fuck, where are you, Chris?

The thudding of her heart went up to her ears. She tried to move but ended up yelping, toppling down to her chest again, having applied too much pressure on her thigh.

Pushing herself again onto all fours, she hissed through her teeth, finding a thick long glass pane deep into her thigh. With a shaking hand, she gripped it, crying out as she tugged on it. Instinctively, she released it, breathing heavily.

The fight between Leon and Arias wasn’t going too well, having pushed Leon till he was standing in the middle of the two sides of the roof.

Fortunately, she could see he was okay.

Unfortunately, if Arias does win, she’d be forced to see him di–

No.

Get up!

“Le… On… Wait…” So Ah whimpered out, her eyes beginning to sting at the helplessness she felt.

Suddenly, she was in China with a sprained ankle, unable to do anything but watch her own sister get thrown across the spacious field by the mutated politician.

Each heartbeat was painful, crying quietly to herself as the breeze wafted against her. It was all her fault. Everything that had ever gone wrong in that part of the mission was her fault. It all hung over her head like a vulture.

She ruined her family when her family doctor had gone insane, setting up a whole outbreak just to get her to the facility. She broke her family when her sister’s life was taken away. She was no better than any of these strains of viruses, taking away lives with little to no heart.

She was the pathogen.

Every wound that it ever healed may have gone permanently, but she wished they didn’t. She wanted them to paint her body in numerous pale gashes and patches of punctured holes. She wanted to be reminded of all the gut-churning choices she had done.

Minji should’ve been alive. Minji would’ve been alive if So Ah wasn’t so reckless. She never moved on, taking them out on every BSAA researcher who had a hand in making the chip.

That was it.

The chip; the same device that slowed her regeneration back in that specific moment in China.

The virus in her may be hindered because of its entire concentration on attempting to get rid of the tracker, but the virus was still a virus.

It still worked.

She could put it to good use – and save a life. After all, she didn’t believe she deserved one. Not after everything she had done.

So Ah tried again, swallowing up her sobs as she reached for the pane. Her hand shook at the fiery pain, biting down her cries as she yanked it out with a gasp. She panted heavily, feeling the virus in her rush to her wound – and her chip cracked again at another failed attempt to reboot.

She looked up at Leon, bottom lip trembling as she internally prayed for her thigh to patch up as fast as possible. She can’t lose him – not after what she did to him. She had already lost too much.

A moment stuck in time as her screams and cries echoed in her head along with a long-missed voice; You don’t deserve this… They don’t deserve you. This is not your fault.

God, screw waiting for this virus.

Her eyes bulged open at Leon dodging another punch from Arias – then everything slowed down. It only took less than a second to act but it felt like an eternity.

“Leon, no!”

That was the last thing Leon heard before he was shoved aside. He hit the ground with a grunt. Then something rang in his ears – a scream.

So Ah’s throat burned at her shriek, body audibly cracking under Arias’ grip. Blood was streaming from the half-closed wound in her thigh as tears rushed down her angry eyes.

“Shit!” Leon quickly got up, taking out his gun but Arias pulled the same move as he did with Chris before.

But god did Leon want to take the risk – yet he knew better.

“Not another step, Kennedy.” Arias threatened, more dull cracking sounds echoing when her ribs broke in, sending her gasping and coughing out blood.

Her whole body was trembling at the pain, having one of her arms pinned to her body, as the crimson substance rolled from the corner of her lips. She didn’t say anything, whimpering and muffling her cries, trying to keep a strong face.

“All this love for someone you’ve abandoned and left behind. It’s almost pathetic,” Arias tilted his head to the side with an unsettling smile, “You’ve had the wedding I’ve dreamt of, but you threw it away like it was nothing. All for revenge. You and me, we’re alike.”

"You're crazy!" So Ah’s teary eyes grew harsher, gritting through her teeth at his words, “I’m not like you. I'll never be like you!”

“Yet look at you,” He continued, turning her to look at Leon as if showing off his new toy, “Still willing to put your life on the line for him. Love can make us do crazy things, So Ah.”

Leon stared up at her with such concern, lips parted but he had nothing to say. Her hair was down, curtain bangs partially covering her shining eyes. Her hand that was pinned by her side was trembling in pain as she was trying hard not to breathe heavily, aware of the pain in her chest.

Her ring glistened around her finger. Through shimmering cinnamons, she only managed a hitched sniffle, staring down at him as if ashamed.

She could see he was racking through his brain for a way to save her. She didn’t want him to.

“It seems like you don’t need a bomb to ruin a marriage – You can do it all by yourself.” Arias tutted, chuckling and finding amusement in seeing the married couple in pain.

“And your poor poor family. I wonder how they’ll feel when they find out all the bloodshed you’ve done.” He turned her back to him with a grin, mocking her, “Shouldn’t change much, at least not after letting your own sister die. Killed by your own negligence.”

He let out a rumbled hum, noticing the way her wounds weren’t healing as quickly as they were supposed to, “I don’t need your virus anymore, not when I’ve got this.”

His claws protruded longlong into sharp spears and she muffled a grunt, turning her face to the side as he slid the tips of his nails down to her chin, tilting her head up. She kept her fierce glare when he brushed her hair out of her face despite waning consciousness.

"I'll spill your guts all over just to watch you regenerate again, and again, and again." Arias's bloodthirsty eyes widened with a gleam.

“Then…” So Ah coughed, wincing at the ache in her chest, and she spat at him through her pain, "You better make it count."

Despite her aim being well off her target, which was the beating heart, the flare gun hissed when she shot. It hit the face of whatever was left of Bane’s dad, the red bullet illuminated and steamed.

Internally, she cursed but knew she was in too much pain to really shift her aim right.

Talk about being a kleptomaniac for fire-based weapons.

Arias looked down, unimpressed but mildly surprised at the feeble attack, and looked back at her.

Externally, the corner of her lips twitched with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

That was when propellers were heard, rumbling the air around them as the Osprey made itself known, shining its bright light on them. All three of them looked at it, our two humans squinting at it.

“Holy shit…” DC muttered, seeing how badly injured So Ah was and his eyes darted down to the flaregun in her hand then at the glowing bullet in Arias’ left chest, “Oh, you risky mother fu – Nadia!”

The Osprey turned around to the back, allowing the raft to open wide to reveal Nadia lying on the ground behind a railgun. It was charging up, glowing brightbright blue.

In a blink of an eye, it pierced through Arias’ shoulder, taking the head out in the process. It didn’t stop there, causing massive collateral damage as it went through several skyscrapers behind them.

Arias groaned through gritted teeth, releasing So Ah who dropped to the ground with a yelp, hitting her side. Leon had ducked with a hiss, having felt the heat of the bullet wafting a tiny hair away from his face.

A heave emitted from her, spitting out blood onto the floor. She knew one thing – she had never ever been completely worn out from head to toe before. Every inch of her body was in fiery agony and all she wanted was to shut her eyes and wait till it was all over.

The beating of her heart was slow to her ears as she struggled to stay awake but didn’t bother to move, too afraid. Some of the blood on her wasn’t hers, but Arias’ – and she was more than sure she wanted to vomit.

But she had been through worse.

For a moment, she let her eyes close to a sliver, and for a moment, her sister was there. She was very faint, kneeling down in front of her with a soft smile on her face. Tears sprung into So Ah’s eyes, yearning for her sister’s presence.

She could join her and leave this world behind. All she had to do was sleep and it will all be over. She would do anything to be by Minji once again. Just shut your eyes and everything from there will be taken care of.

But stubbornness runs thick in the Han family.

Minji gave her a knowing look and a familiar voice echoed in So Ah’s head; No rest for the weary, Soo.

“Diego!” Arias’ let out a guttural shout when he noticed his friend’s head was half missing. He charged at the Osprey, hanging onto one of the wings.

Like dandelions in the wind, the vision of her lost sister disappeared, replaced by dark brown boots she could recognize anywhere.

A gentle hand was set on her shoulder and the other went under her cheek, lifting her head up. Both hands were covered in leather gloves but the slightly calloused fingers were free for her to feel.

A honeyed deep voice was growing nearer and her senses were slowly returning. It was frantic.

“C’mon, baby, look at me.” Leon urged, breathing heavily with concern-stricken azure eyes on hers, “Open your eyes.”

So Ah’s eyes fluttered open, looking up at him tiredly, “... Leon?”

His head dropped with a hefty relieved sigh, irritation masking his worry as he glared down at her, “That was an incredibly stupid plan you just pulled.”

“It… It worked…” She muttered, blinking slowly, “Didn’t it?”

Leon shook his head with a scoff, in disbelief at this point. His thumb twitched to caress her cheek and wipe away the blood tainting her skin.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his heart speeding up at the thought of her giving in.

A maniacal laugh came from the Osprey and he tore his gaze away from her face to Arias, finding him still on the spinning aircraft with his claws deepdeep into it.

“Don’t worry about me,” So Ah winced with a whimper, “Go… Get Arias.”

Leon hesitated, not wanting to leave her behind and his eyes snapped to his motorbike on the other side of the roof. He returned his eyes to her, now determined as his arm went underneath hers, his hand resting behind her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, easily picking her up just enough to pull her to the glass fence.

So Ah hitched a yelp, gasping sharply, gripping his jacket as her sounds of pain went quiet once she was leaning against the fence. Leon slowly released her head onto the glass, his eyes dead-set on her face.

“You better keep those eyes open,” He said pointedly, “This isn’t over.”

She swallowed, watching him spare Arias a glance before he ran in the opposite direction towards his bike. The engined revved, roaring to life when he turned the ignition on. The tires screeched when they zoomed across the roof.

From her spot, she could wearily see the concentration on his face as he set his foot onto his seat and leaned forward, preparing his final plan because honestly, Arias was being a menace. Also, it was past dinner time.

Leon jumped off his Ducati, rolling on the ground with a grunt as the motorbike zipped through the fence, shattering the glass. It launched straight at Arias in the chest, the momentum keeping it there just long enough for Leon to stand up.

He whipped out his magnum, piercing Arias with his sharpsharp eyes, narrowing down his brows with lips forming a snarl and – you guessed it – a witty one-liner.

“Catch.”

The Ducati exploded into flames, the impact making Arias release the Osprey. It charred off half of his body, Diego’s face gone completely as he started falling. His claws extended to pin them to the building and the others to the military aircraft, forcing DC to stabilise the plane and keep Arias up much to his dismay.

Leon stared down at Arias looking up at him with a bloody and strained laugh.

This guy really doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Chris finally showed up, shooting a quick look at So Ah who was close to dozing off. He stopped for a moment, but she barely waved him off.

“Kept him busy.” She mumbled, almost coyly.

He held back a snicker, rushing up to the edge next to Leon and he aimed his gun at Arias’ glowing chest.

“Bye-bye, asshole.”

Men and their one-liners.

With that, he pulled the trigger, sending the grenade launching through the air and lodging itself into his heart. A guttural scream came from Arias before it detonated, the explosion wiping him out completely but his claws.

The Osprey tilted and moved away once the heavyweight was gone. Bits and pieces of whatever was left of the heartbroken – insane – man fell to the street below. A silver wedding ring rolled to the stop right next to the clumps of flesh.

So Ah stared at the black smoke reaching the skies and from what she could tell from Chris and Leon sharing a look, she knew it was over.

It was finally over.

Her head lolled to the side, her broken arm dropping to her side as she breathed out a laboured sigh through her red-tinted lips when Chris ran past her to Rebecca. He must’ve gotten the vaccine for her.

The virus within her was already working on patching her up, her body being pushed way past its limits. It was bound to suck.

Leon went up to her, going down to one knee in front of the quietly breathing girl. From what he could see, she was still horribly injured with little to no progress of her regenerative ability taking over. He stared at her apprehensively and she felt it, huffing lightly.

“What; is there something on my face?” So Ah joked before flinching, her other hand holding onto her side, muffling her whimper.

Leon didn’t laugh, “You’re not healing.”

She didn’t look at him nor say anything, staying quiet – she really didn’t know what to tell him. She didn’t have a scientific reason other than the virus was being hindered back by the chip. The tracker wasn’t doing anything but it was foreign to the body – therefore, foreign to the pathogen. It didn’t belong in the human anatomy.

“Why isn’t the virus working?” Leon asked, keeping his eyes on her.

“It…” She started to explain, “It just needs time… It’s been doing that for a while.”

“It usually doesn’t take that long.” He countered.

She barely shrugged, “It does now… Guess even viruses got an expiration date.”

Something within Leon understood how So Ah must’ve felt about him making jokes when he’d be drunk out of his mind or injured. Like the time she had to drag him out of her falling Green Life facility, he was still making light-hearted comments here and there.

Leon frowned deeply before getting closer to her, growing frustrated at the wall she had built.

“Why did you do it?” He pressed on, needing to know, “Why did you save me knowing your body won’t patch itself up?”

So Ah stared at the ground, blinking lazily; because I still care about you, idiot.

Tilting her head in his direction, she looked up at him, “Guilty conscious I guess… Also, don’t put words in my mouth.” She shot back, her voice hazy, “I never said the virus stopped working – it just… It needs a longer time.”

The Osprey shined its light on them, hovering in front of the building. DC and Nadia were more than okay, minus the bleeding wound through Nadia’s shoulder. DC saluted Chris with a smile.

With Rebecca saved at the last minute, all that was left was the rest of the city. Chris looked over at Leon and So Ah with a grateful nod.

“One more thing left to do,” He told them, directing his attention to the girl on the ground, “You up for it?”

God, why can’t they just let me sleep?

“Yeah,” So Ah tried to stand up, alerting Leon to her wobbly state and he quickly held her, hands on the small of her back.

Her heart thudded against his, hitching a faint gasp when her legs gave in. Her hand grasped his bicep and the other brushed by his side, hesitant to lean against him for support.

“Sorry, I didn’t–” She whispered, attempting to move but his hold on her didn’t falter.

“Just hold onto me.” Leon reassured gently, shifting his hands to wrap her good arm over his shoulder and the other went to rest on her hip from the back, “Don’t want you passing out on me now.”

His voice dropped to a tender and almost loving tone, “Not when we’ve got so much to talk about.”

So Ah whimpered at this, allowing her body to find leverage on his. She shut her eyes and turned her face away when Leon tilted his head down to look at her with those soft ocean blues of his.

The Osprey moved to the helipad, gradually lowering down.

She wasn’t going to admit it anytime soon as she knew Leon was aware of it too. She wanted his help; just this once.

And he was more than ready to be there for her again.

#canon x oc #oc x canon #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil vendetta #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil fandom #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy smut #oc x leon kennedy

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wujuship · 7 years ago

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wjsn visual appreciation (4 / 13)

exy;

name: chu sojung

stage name: exy

birth: november, 6th, 1995

unit: sweet

flower: eupatorium japonicum (hesistant)

the leader and strong rapper in wjsn, a precious and cute smile in contrast to her strong appearance, love her, love wjsn.

#wjsn #cosmic girls #exy #sojung #exy really suits long hair #or dark hair #but her blonde it's more cute #idk #its beautiful btw #va

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simonsrosebud · 4 years ago

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the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice. or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off. the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us! there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet. he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea. he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest! there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh. tell me, was it funny? was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out. she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin. “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan. none of you do. you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing. and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.” and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him. if anything, he looks mad at those left. “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?! you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?! we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions. the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem. the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it. he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery. the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it. kevin tells him this much; that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door. dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”. “gonna get it?” kevin shakes his head. the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin! we’re sorry! just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow. “what do you want?”

“to apologize.” kevin raises his eyebrows. “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown. why do you think you’ve seen that? because i’m a toddler? you know what i’ve had my reasons.” riko. the moriyamas.

“i know. look, we don’t want to give you excuses. i-i don’t have an explanation. you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night. andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in. “we wanna make it up to you, man. you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.” kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with. “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice. if anyone says anything i’ll punch em. neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces. the ravens will be at the banquet. it’s in just over a month, the second week of december. he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then. and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything. not yet, at least. he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet. he starts to like away games a little more than before, though. he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to. he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls. he puts on his press smile before he even notices. “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans. he needs to tell him about he and riko. what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy. what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko. it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton. you’re safe, you’re in my apartment. no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles. he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods. dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes. “you don’t have to be sorry. i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him. and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back. he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep. and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight. dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow. his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move. in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him. he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid. he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer. “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.” but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.” and pushes himself up over kevin. “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck. “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair. “and what… what about it?”

ahaha. aha. sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards. he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster. but he tells him the rest. who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world; why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes; the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant. what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays.

so kevin asks him to the banquet. when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview. there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet. it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her. it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand. they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game. “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods. “back in may, i’d say. we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her. in the end it just didn’t work out.” i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods. “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course. it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something? i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”

kevin palms are sweating. he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves. “i do, actually. i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise. “i heard you say him, did i not? anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it. “if you’re asking, then sure. i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man. this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.” as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah? still got a 50/50 shot! and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this. coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking! how do you feel?” she laughs. “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.” lies. “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game. if my fans are true then this won’t change that. speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it. so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.” he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

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codename-adler · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! So I saw someone ask you for kevaaron recs and I saw the ones you recommended. I have read like more than half of those and I really like your taste (especially the one on Instagram, that one's great). So, I wanted to ask if you would give some of your favorite jerejean recs, since you also ship them. I don't have a problem with explicit scenes btw, but I don't prefer kerejean (I am sorry if that doesn't suit with you, but it's just not my thing)

This will be an honor and a pleasure!

All of these can be found on ao3, as they are from my personal bookmarks of Jerejean fics (12 in total, you can also find them regrouped on my dashboard @ codename_adler on ao3, just put the Jeremy Knox / Jean Moreau tag to filter down your research!)

I should also mention that these are all pretty long, triggering, explicit, mature and more or less canon compliant, considering how little we know in the books. To me, Jerejean is about healing and mending and finding solace in each other. If you're looking for something more... bright and AU-ish and short & sweet, I'm... yeah, not the right gal to ask. But please give these a shot, they are all so brilliant and beautiful!! ALSO, any Jerejean fic without Laila and Alvarez is lacking that quality content. I said what I said.

Alright, come on now!

Jerejean Fic Recs

Marrow Without Bone - exyfexyfoxes

First AFTG fic I ever read, first Jerejean fic I ever read, first ao3 fic I ever read... My first love. Always and forever in my heart.

(19 chapters, 79k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

. When they laid Riko’s body to rest, the only thing Jean could think about was Kevin Day. Kevin Day, Castle Evermore, and the fragile blades of grass near his feet. He thought he must’ve been imagining their brightness, the absolute intensity of the iridescent neon bright fucking green of them.

Riko was dead.

'The Ravens never scouted me,' said Jeremy. He was bouncing his leg under the table. 'Didn’t you know why?' ''

playing on - flybbfly

Oh my god, they were roommates, but make it Jerejean with a bucket of angst, feels, trauma and sexual tension. So long. So slowburn. Yet never enough.

(31 chapters, 142k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

(this one is also one of two fics that can only be accessed by registered users, make to have an ao3 account to read!)

" "Who knew California Golden Boy Jeremy Knox could play dirty?”

Jeremy grins. “Best kept secret on the west coast. Told you there was a western division striker who could dispossess you.”

“On a practice court, maybe," Jean says. "Try to get it away from me during a game.”

Jeremy leans back, bracing himself on gloved hands. “Luckily, I won't ever have to.”

In which Jean Moreau and Jeremy Knox play exy, share a dorm room, and accidentally insult each another a lot. "

philtatos - lydjah

A Jerejean getting together and healing fic with references to TSoA? It's more likely than you think. Hurts more than you think, too.

(5 chapters, 21k, completed, M + TW)

" Helping Jean Moreau heal is a game Jeremy Knox feels the stakes are too high to even consider the thought of losing. Jean’s first game as a Trojan against Edgar Allan feels like even higher stakes. Falling in love with Moreau - well, those are the highest stakes of all.

“You are his Achilles’ heel,” Laila whispers, in the dark, and her words bleed straight into the empty places in Jeremy’s heart. "

Quicksilver - lydjah

Alternate POVs between Jean and Jeremy, and so, so much love.

(5 chapters, 21k, completed, M + TW)+ Non-explicit sex)

" Jean’s first month at USC is nothing but darkness. Of course, he is used to this. The only colour Jean can anchor himself to in that time is Jeremy Knox’s bright, golden hair.

Fucking martyr, Jean thinks in savage French. "

Saturday Sun - bamboo_astronaut (A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair)

Setting beloved characters on the path to healing is its own form of therapy. I'm not even joking.

(1 chapter, 32k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

" Jean Moreau arrives at USC bruised and battered, and Jeremy Knox is determined to help him heal from his painful past and welcome him to the Trojans with open arms. "

between hoping and believing - cryptickidprem

A soulmate AU!!!

(16 chapters, 47k, completed, pretty G-rated, slight TW bc duh it's Jean)

" Jean convinced himself a long time ago that he doesn't have a soulmate. Or maybe he just wants to believe that. Things would be easier if he was destined to be alone. It will at least hurt less when he inevitably winds up that way anyway.

And then there's Jeremy, who's been dreaming of meeting his match for years. For some reason, Jeremy seems determined to convince Jean that sometimes he might actually be able to have the things he hopes for, and that soulmate or no, Jean Moreau has people who will stick with him. "

Unholy Revelation - the_oxfordcomma

Brace yourselves. This isn't pretty. This isn't nice. But. Doesn't mean it's not worth it.

(1 chapter, 6k, completed, VERY M + TW + Explicit)

" Jeremy didn’t see the approaching Ravens. He was chattering away with Kevin and Matt Boyd, dazzling grin still in place from an hour ago when he’d climbed the stage to accept the award on behalf of his team for the final time. Although everyone in the room had known the Trojans would win, Jeremy still lit up with pride at the announcement, eyes sparkling as he squeezed Jean’s hand under the table. Jean had squeezed back.

Of course the Ravens would try and cast their shadow on the brightest thing in the room. "

Coupure Électrique - lscar123

The only uncompleted fic I'd recommend (last updated in 2017), although the last chapter ends in a way that could be a valid ending, which is why I'm putting it here anyways. The French is cringy but because the rest is so good it deserves a shot.

(21 chapters, 58k, incomplete, M + TW + Non-explicit sex)

" Jean and Jeremy spend the holidays together and learn more about each other than they ever could have imagined. "

Shield for a Heart - neilskey (spellitwithyourpeas)

Oh, the ansgt. Oh, the slowburn. Oh, my heart.

(16 chapters, 55k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

" “It’s your choice, but you’re rotting away in here, Jean and no matter what she says, you can’t live in Abby’s spare bedroom forever. Time to start fighting again.”

Kevin’s hard and commanding tone was no surprise. The softness had been beaten out of him around the same time as Jean.

“What if I don’t want to anymore?”

Maybe it was because he had been half hidden in shadows-Jean had kept the shades drawn, but light still seeped in the cracks- but Jean thought he had seen something akin to understanding paint Kevin’s cool expression. “He’s gone. You survived. Play or don’t, it’s up to you, but you need to get out of this fucking house.” // Jean's first year at USC. Jeremy falls hard, Jean comes around eventually. "

He Could Taste the Stars - subtlehysteria

Yeah, there's a happy ending. But first, pain!

(25 chapters, 48k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

" I am a Trojan. I go to USC, Jeremy Knox is my roommate, he has blue eyes, I have grey –

Jean recollected himself. Those were unimportant details. So why couldn’t he get the thought out of his head?

Jean is still adjusting to being a Trojan, Jeremy tries to help Jean open up to his new team. "

I Guess I Like You Like You - lazarusthefirst

This one goes pretty quickly into what matters and we like it like that.

(1 chapter, 7k, completed, M + TW + Explicit)

" ‘Even if it’s just sleeping, I’d rather do it in your room.’ "

Ask the Messenger - Metis_Ink

Second soulmate AU! But this one is very heavy... Made me cry. I cannot stress enough how sad and triggering this one is, even though it ends okay. Please be careful.

(5 chapters, 33k, completed, VERY M + TW + Explicit)

" Jeremy Knox and the soulmate.

Guest starring: Exy, a transfer student, generalized anxiety, older sisters, drunk lesbians, bread, cake, a shed, the beach, the absence of Hennessy, Star Wars, Renee Walker, self-taught smooth talking, gratuitous French, No. 1 Trojans fan Kevin Day, relationship drama, general drama, the power of Friendship, questions, answers, team spirit!, and, of course, romance. "

AND THERE YOU GO!

#jerejean #jerejean fics #jeremy knox #jean moreau #aftg #aftg fic #aftg fanfic #all for the game #usc trojans #exy #fic rec

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wulfrann · 4 years ago

Text

A wingman winged (Palmetto by the Sea part 1)

All for the game

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationship: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Allison Reynolds, Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (side)

Additional Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - No Exy, First Meeting, Eden’s Twilight, Neil ‘Best Wingman’ Josten

[Part 1 of the Palmetto by the Sea series - Chapter 1/1 - 3k words - Published 2020-12-10]

Summary :

It's a Saturday night at Eden's, and Allison needs Neil's help to approach the object of her long-suffering crush - that is to say, she needs him to distract the girl's intimidating friend long enough that she's able to approach in the first place.

(TW: alcohol, sexual harassment (short-lived), brief display of violence, smoking)

[Read on Ao3]

A wingman winged

The music thumps the ground in rhythm, low and deep like a pulse as it throbs through the club and reverberates into the bodies twisting as one on the dance floor. Eden’s Twilight isn’t really Neil’s scene, but the dark aesthetic and ever-shifting neon lighting make it easy to blend in. The shadows bend and stretch over his scars, reducing them to odd tattoos at first glance - and he makes sure he never gets a second. The clothes he’s wearing are nice enough and all black, but neither form-fitting nor revealing. Standing next to Allison’s brand of tastefully flashy clubwear, he’s no more than a foil. Seduction is her domain, and she thrives on it.

Which is what makes the fact that she’s asking him for help absolutely baffling.

“I’ve seen you wrap more than half this crowd around your little finger like it was nothing. Why can’t you just do the same with her?”

“You don’t understand,” Allison repeats for the third time that night. She has her chin in her hand and is leaning over her drink, swirling the expensive cocktail around with her straw. “I’ve tried everything, and the most I’ve gotten is for her to look at me. She hasn’t even tried to buy me a drink.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

Allison scoffs. “I don’t set myself up for failure. She’s given me no sign that she’s interested. Besides, that little troll of a man she keeps around would probably bite me if I tried.”

Neil snorts at that. He’s seen the man in question glare people away, from both himself and his friend, all evening - on one occasion, he’s almost certain that the man even pulled out a knife. There’s no mistaking the way that the light glinted off of the blade, not even from across a crowded nightclub. Neil would recognise that brief flash anywhere.

His friend though, she looks friendly enough. White hair dyed rainbow at the tips, a silver cross, a few piercings. She’s wearing a black dress that wouldn’t look out of place in daylight and a soft smile that Neil is tempted to believe is fake just because of how earnest it looks. She’s also got the muscle structure of an athlete, a fact which Allison has reminded him of enough times that he’ll probably never be able to forget.

“Couldn’t you just accept your defeat and move on?” Neil tries, but he’s known Allison long enough that his heart isn’t in it. She’s never been one to give up.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Have you seen the arms on her? I’m getting her in my bed whether her little bodyguard likes it or not.”

“What if she’s straight?”

Allison shakes her head at him in that way that means he’s failed at some kind of social task and starts to count her points off her fingers. “Neil, the woman is ripped, has an undercut, rainbow hair, and armpit hair.”

“How do you know-”

“I have eyes. Besides, that blond troll she always comes here with is definitely gay, and everyone knows queer people travel in group.”

Neil throws a skeptical glance towards the unlikely duo, but doesn’t argue. None of what Allison listed strikes him as particularly telling, but he’s been told that his ‘gaydar’ is ‘absolutely abysmal’ on numerous occasions by about everyone he knows except Kevin, who's just as bad as him if Allison can be trusted.

Neil might as well accept his fate. “What do you want me to do?”

Allison grins at him. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Locating the two of them isn’t as easy when he’s not sitting on the upper level but standing right here in the crowd, surrounded by people and blinded by the rapidly changing lights. Years of hyper-vigilance end up paying off once he’s gotten his bearings right, however, and he starts making his roundabout way towards the section of wall they’re leaning on. The man is sipping on some kind of drink and staring blankly into the distance while the woman does most of the talking, though she does glance in Allison’s general direction more than once in the amount of time it takes Neil to reach them. He doesn’t blame her - even he has to admit that Allison’s dancing is a thing of beauty.

Neil, on the other hand, only ever pretends to dance. He’s gone out with his friends often enough that he’s picked up a few generic moves and can blend in, but it just - doesn’t appeal to him. Still, what little grasp he has on it is enough to get to his target unnoticed.

One falsely awkward step later and he’s got a glassful of whiskey and coke soaking into the man’s black tank top and dripping down his pants.

The hand wrapped around his arm, steadying him, is an unexpected addition. Neil’s previous drink messed his balance at the last minute and he’s pretty sure he’d have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t been caught. The man’s grip is undeniable strong, but it’s the eyes that really hold Neil down to his spot. He can’t quite tell the color because of the many strobing lights and colored neons flashing around, but he thinks they might be brown.

“Oops,” Neil says, straightening himself up with exaggerated movements. The man’s eyes flicker down his drenched top before sliding back up to Neil’s eyes without so much as a frown. “Sorry for your muscle shirt,” Neil adds as an after-thought, digging the word out of an afternoon spent (unwillingly) shopping with Allison.

The man arcs a single eyebrow. “You’re drunk,” he says, with one of the flattest voices Neil has ever heard.

Neil smiles widely, swaying a little on his feet. He still has the man’s hand wrapped around his bicep. “No,” he retorts, slurring the words a bit, “I’m Neil.”

The eyebrow arcs up even higher. Neil’s smile widens. He’s about to say something else, whatever sentence he can think of that would maintain the man’s attention on him, when someone else’s voice cuts in.

“Andrew, you’re soaked!”

Neil turns towards the woman, spying Allison making her way over from behind her, and raises his now empty glass. “My fault. I wasn’t looking.”

She smiles. From close up, it looks even softer than Neil thought. “That’s okay, it happens,” she says, then glances down where the man’s hands - Andrew’s? - is still holding on to him. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I just tripped,” Neil reassures her, then looks over at Andrew, whose eyes haven’t left his face. He’s… staring, with an intensity that catches Neil off-guard. And then he’s not, because Allison is coming over and calling his name. The hand drops from his arm like it was burned.

“Neil! There you are.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, then turns, falsely confused, towards Andrew and his friend. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” the woman says, looking a little stunned.

“Your friend spilled his drink on me,” Andrew states, throwing a look at his own friend.

“I was just going to ask the barman for paper towels,” the object of Allison's scheming adds, already half-turning away.

Allison doesn’t hesitate one second before following suit, offering her help. When the woman starts to protest, she takes hold of her arm and all but drags her to the bar. Neil watches the interaction without holding back his smile.

When he turns back towards Andrew, the man is staring at him with a frown.

“Sorry again for your shirt,” Neil offers, though he forgets to make himself sound like he means it. “You should probably take it off.”

The arched eyebrow comes back, and Neil realizes what he just said with a choked laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that. But it would dry faster,” he adds, feeling stupid. Andrew doesn’t look convinced, though, so he feels compelled to add, “I don’t swing.”

“I don’t watch baseball,” Andrew deadpans.

“I’m not talking about baseball,” Neil says, grimacing in disgust. “It’s not even a real sport.”

The look Andrew gives him is the blankest one yet. Neil looks down into his empty glass, then at Andrew’s tank top.

“You really should rinse it down, at least,” he ends up saying. “Otherwise it’s going to stick.”

Andrew stares at him a little longer, then downs his glass and starts to move in the direction of the bathroom. For some reason, Neil follows.

The bathroom is painted mostly black, like just about everything in Eden’s. Only the large sink is white. Neil leans back against it and watches as Andrew grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser and soaks them with water, then starts to wipe at his shirt. He thinks about helping, but remembers the way Andrew avoided touching anyone on his way to the bathroom and figures that there’s not much he could do, anyway.

“You’re not drunk,” Andrew states after a while.

Neil debates lying as Andrew throws the wet ball of paper away and walks to the dispenser to get more, but decides against it. “No, I’m not. I don’t like it.”

Andrew barely glances at him. “You play drunk well for someone who doesn’t like it.”

“S’not hard,” Neil says, shrugging, then figures he might as well come clean and adds: “Allison needed an excuse to talk to your friend.”

Andrew meets his eyes then, eyebrow arched up. “Did she try buying her a drink?”

“That’s what I said.” Neil smiles, then shrugs again. “Apparently she’s been trying to get your friend’s attention for weeks, but nothing’s worked.”

Andrew lets a sharp breath out of his nose, which Neil guesses is the equivalent of a laugh, if the lack of facial expression he's shown so far is anything to go by. “If that’s what she thinks, then your friend’s blind.”

Neil grins. “I’m glad. I thought I’d caught her staring a few times, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Renee likes to think she’s subtle.”

“Well, at least they’re talking now. I don’t think you’re getting those paper towels though,” Neil adds, watching Andrew wash his hands with a distracted kind of fascination. Somehow, the dark armbands encasing both of Andrew’s forearms make his hands stand out. Broad, and worn, with an odd elegance in the way they move. Neil would bet a lot of money on Andrew having some kind of manual career, at the very least a hobby. Something meticulous.

It’s only after Andrew’s wiped his hands and thrown away one last paper towel that Neil realizes he’s been staring, and he moves his eyes to Andrew’s face instead. He finds him with his head tipped slightly to the side, looking at him with the faintest hint of curiosity on his face.

Neil is about to say something - he's not sure what - when some guy he’d barely registered on his radar suddenly steps into his space.

"Hey there, pretty face,” the guy slurs, exhaling cheap booze right into Neil’s face. “Were you waiting for me?"

Neil looks up at the guy's face and begrudgingly resists the urge to bash an elbow into his nose. "Obviously not," he spits.

Hoping that it's enough for the guy to take his hint and leave, Neil starts to turn back towards Andrew. He is immediately jostled back towards the guy as a large hand grabs his chin and twists. "Hey, I was talking to you, Scarface."

"Wow, I've never heard that one before," Neil retorts, rolling his eyes. "You know, you should really make up your mind, asshole. Either I'm pretty or I'm not. Now get lost," Neil says, and is about to jam his knee into the guy's crotch when something tears the asshole away from him. Neil's balance is shaken by the movement, but he manages to stay upright by gripping the sink.

"You don't touch people without their permission. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" Andrew says, pressing down upon the hold he has on the guy's arm, which he's twisted behind his back with one hand. He has a knife pressed to the guy's throat with the other. His voice is flat enough to cut. "If I see you again, I'll gut you. Understood?"

The guy nods and Andrew sends him sprawling onto the floor. He scrambles quickly to his feet and promptly runs out the door. Light glints off the small knife’s blade, clutched so tightly Andrew’s knuckles look white.

"Thanks," Neil says in the silence. "But I could have handled it."

"I don't care," Andrew snarls back.

Neil looks at the tension oozing out of Andrew's every cell and decides to keep silent. It's the right decision, judging by the way Andrew closes his eyes and starts packing up the tension, folding it back inside little by little. Neil knows the feeling.

The knife vanishes from his hand (and into one of the sheaths Neil suspects are sewn into the armbands), and Neil follows Andrew out of the bathroom. They stand by the door for a bit while Neil watches Andrew scanning the crowd with a clenched jaw. The tension is still there, even packed up, even pressed down tight under the surface of his skin. It needs more space than that to leave.

"Let's get out of here," Neil offers.

Andrew glances at him, then nods. Neil takes a hold of the hem of Andrew's shirt and leads the way out of the club.

The night's chill is a welcome change of pace after the density of the packed club's air. Neil inhales a gallon of it as soon as they've stepped outside, and hears Andrew do the same. It smells of cigarette butts and wet asphalt. He had no idea it'd rained.

A faint click on his right - Andrew lights a cigarette and offers him another one. Neil takes it and watches the smoke spill out of Andrew’s mouth like magic, grabbing hold of the lighter only as an afterthought. The metal is smooth under his touch and slightly warm over the imprint of Andrew’s hand. Neil brings the cigarette to his lips and takes a drag, closing his eyes to focus on the burning air flow rushing down his windpipe. He blows it out smiling, eyes trailing after the faint grey cloud. Andrew’s eyes are on him.

“Thanks,” he tells him, raising his cigarette in the air.

They smoke in silence. Neil lets the little circle of fire eat away at his cigarette without taking another drag, content just to breathe and to watch as the tension coiled so tight in Andrew’s chest unwinds, seeping out, one exhalation at a time, into the quiet night.

The quiet can’t last forever, however, especially not on a Saturday night at Eden’s doorsteps, and so the peace is brutally broken a few minutes later as a group of inebriated twenty-somethings spill out over the sidewalk laughing loudly and singing songs. Andrew adroitly sidesteps one of them as he staggers to the side before getting dragged back by his friend, brushing shoulders with Neil. They got their stuff back from the cloakroom when they stepped out and Andrew’s wearing a leather jacket over his muscle shirt, black as the rest of his clothes.

Andrew looks at the group staggering its way down the street until they’re far enough they can barely hear them. “Are you hungry?”

Neil shrugs. “Kinda. Why? Are you asking me to dinner?” Neil asks, smile tugging at his lips. “I doubt we’ll find anything open.”

Andrew smothers the butt of his cigarette on the wall and tosses it into the trashcan Eden’s staff left by the door, then gestures at Neil to follow. It goes against about every instinct Neil has cultivated along the years, but he does.

He doesn’t know why. Andrew’s back is broad and he walks at a steady pace, with an assurance that doesn’t look learned and yet still probably is. Neil remembers the way Andrew looked when he bent the asshole’s arm behind his back, like what he really wanted was to break it in half but knew that he had to hold back. His voice hadn’t faltered then, either. Neil wonders if it ever does.

They stop in front of a motor bike parked some way off of the club, street lights glinting off of the metal and black bodywork. Andrew gets a helmet from some kind of locked compartment and hands it over to Neil, who takes it by reflex.

“Where are we going?” he asks, turning the helmet around in his hands. He’s starting to wonder whether Andrew’s even aware that there are other colors outside of black.

Andrew grabs a pair of gloves out of the compartment and slips them on. “A kebab joint,” he says without looking at Neil. “It’s open until 3.”

Neil considers the bike, then the helmet in his hands. “I’ve never ridden on a bike before.”

“Don’t get on before I tell you to. Don’t make me lose my balance. When the bike leans into turns, lean with it,” he drones out. “If you do that and hold on, you’ll be fine.”

Neil considers Andrew. The solid stance of him. Once he climbs on the bike, he’ll have no control until they stop.

“Okay.”

There’s a buzzing beneath his kin.

The kebab joint is a tiny square of neon light squeezed in-between two higher-end shops, and the only open place to sell food for miles around. There are no tables and no interior, just a counter with a window display that reminds Neil of ice-cream shops, filled with meat fillings, some kind of fried rolls, and a handful of sad-looking pastries. The items are listed above and to the sides - hamburgers, kebabs, paninis, all with various meats and side dishes and an array of sauces Neil’s never heard of before. He has no idea where to start, and so asks for the same thing Andrew ordered.

They pack the smell of cheap food and fat in plastic bags and leave the shop front to sit by the pier. The kebab is greasy and would have made Kevin scream, but the meat is tasty and the sauce is good, and it’s somehow the perfect thing to eat right now.

Through the cloud of their food wafts the sharp smell of iodine. They claimed a spot of the pier to sit, legs dangling through the railing, and the wood too smells of salt, is so ingrained with it that it sticks slightly to the skin and leaves imprints of tiny crystals on their clothes.

They eat in silence; the wash and backwash of the sea beneath the pier is a rolling whisper, swishing quietly past the piles and back again, a dark rippling sky in movement. There is no agitation around them, yet still it seems as though the sea swallows all sounds, pillows the silence with its mass, shaping a quietude with depth. It’s a quality of peace Neil has never felt before.

He’s just about finished with his food when his phone buzzes.

[From: Allison] where r u??

Neil snorts. Andrew raises a quizzical eyebrow at him, but he just shakes his head.

[To: Allison] I left 30 minutes ago, but thank you for noticing.

[From: Allison] was busy :-*

[From: Allison] u haven’t been kidnapped right? did u go home?

[To: Allison] No and no. I’m at the pier with Andrew.

[From: Allison] ?????

[From: Allison] was that a joke???

Neil huffs out a laugh, enjoying the confusion, and puts his phone on silent as more texts keep coming in. Andrew’s phone buzzes once, but he doesn’t check it - just grabs a cigarette and his lighter, replacing the smell of their meal with another. The smoke drifts up and disperses, yielding to the handful of stars valiantly fighting against the electrical constellations of city lights. The moon is gibbous amongst them and fractal upon the sea; Neil distractedly notices that it’s waning, as the curve makes a d and Jean’s trick somehow never left his mind, despite his lack of interest in the conversation at the time.

It makes Andrew look even paler, this lighting. His hair is made of silver and the volumes of his face either stand out or cave, stark and almost unreal.

Andrew’s eyes flick to his.

“Staring.”

Neil smiles. He takes the cigarette from Andrew’s hand and takes a drag, blowing memories up, up, up until they’re gone.

“What do you do?” he asks when he hands the cigarette back. “For a living, I mean.”

Andrew doesn't answer. He just looks at Neil and pulls on his cigarette. A bit of wind blows the smoke sideways, across his cheek and back to land.

"If you won't tell me, I'll guess," Neil says when it's clear he's not getting an answer, and pretends to study Andrew's appearance for clues. "You could be an artist. You look like one." He grins at the unimpressed look on Andrew's face. "Bit of a cursed poet vibe, with the piercings and all that black. Strong aesthetic. I guess you could be a musician, too."

The corner of Andrew's mouth twitches. "Shallow."

Neil shrugs. Appearances tell a lot more than people think, but he's pretty sure he got it wrong. He doesn't actually know how artists are supposed to look like - that's not really the kind of things he learned to watch out for - but it's as good a guess as anything. "It's either that or undertaker."

Andrew blows smoke out through his nose. "Sorry to disappoint, but I just serve drinks."

Neil hums. "Full time?"

"No. I also cook."

"You're a chef, and you still eat food like this?" Neil asks, waving at the plastic bag sitting between them.

"Aide," Andrew corrects. "Anas' is the only decent place still open. I don't see you complaining."

"It was pretty good," Neil grants, then adds, because it's only fair: "I'm a student."

"Late calling?"

Neil smiles. "Something like it."

An eyebrow shaped like a question. Neil ignores it in favor of the sea, but the weight of Andrew's gaze stays fixed on him like an anchor. He wonders if Andrew's trying to guess what something like it may hide; wonders how far away from reality he's wandering, trying to find something reasonable; wonders, even, how he'd react if Neil told him the truth. Whether he'd balk at the scars that prove it or stare at them the same way he's staring at the ones across his face now, blank and unwavering, on the upside of bored.

Riding on Andrew's bike the second time is just as exhilarating as the first. The city flies by in a blur - the docks, the bars, the empty streets, they blend together and melt together until there's nothing really left but them, passing. Alone. A figment caught between two worlds.

When Andrew drops him off, the ground still moves beneath his feet. Neil shoves his hand into his pockets and grins, feeling absurdly carefree.

"Thank you. For the ride and for the food - it was amazing."

He means it. Andrew is looking at him like he's trying to figure out if he does. He holds out his hand, and Neil frowns.

He looks to the sky and sighs. "Your phone."

"Oh," Neil says. He puts his phone in Andrew's palm.

Andrew takes one glove off and puts his number in quickly. He tosses his phone back to Neil and brings two fingers up to his temple in salute.

The bike roars to life, the noise filling the street until it's gone. Neil looks down at the brand new contact in his phone, carefully prodding at the little bit of warmth beneath his sternum.

Matt, Dan, Wymack, Allison, Abby, Kevin, his therapist, his dentist and his doctor. Andrew's number brings the staggering total amount of contacts into his phone to a very satisfying 10.

#andreil #tfc #aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #the foxhole court #allison reynolds #renee walker #renison #modern au #palmetto by the sea #a wingman winged #no exy au #fanfiction #wulfrann writes #this has been sitting in my wips for 9 months rip

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jemej3m · 4 years ago

Note

Allison dresses Neil in a dress, thoughts?

can you imagine, though?

this boy, who is canonically pretty, an athlete, auburn haired and icy eyed. if he wore a dress, i am sure it would stop time.

excuse the shitty sketch, but here are the dresses I write about below (not necessarily in the right order):

its nearly 1am what am i doing with my life

The first time Neil wears a dress, Andrew thinks nothing of it

It’s a dark blue thing, with a stupid bow on the elastic around his shoulders. They’re just chilling in their dorm, Kevin still out at classes. Neil had disappeared to the girls’ room for about an hour and come back wearing something that was obviously not his, a strange amalgamation of expressions on his face. Pride. Curiosity (probably in Andrew’s reaction). Self-consciousness. Spite. Everything that encompasses Neil Josten, really.

It’s a nice dress. Definitely Allison’s. The material would crumple under Andrew’s fingertips if he pinched it, like tissue paper, like Andrew’s skin when Neil pokes and prods for answers. He wears it well, even if Andrew will never tell him that. It softens the scars and the muscles and the sharpness of Neil’s grin into something more playful.

Is Andrew aroused? He’s not really sure. This isn’t territory he’s approached. Enough time passes with Andrew just looking that Neil moves on, bored of standing still. He makes coffee in the kitchenette with the skirt swishing around his thighs, and Andrew thinks: maybe. Maybe he could be.

Neil’s clearly not wearing it for him, though, so he lets him be and goes back to ignoring the Exy run on the TV and reading his book.

The second time is unexpected. The second time has Andrew’s skin swelter and heart race.

It’s his last year at Palmetto. Everyone’s come back to get hectic at Eden’s and crash at the cousin’s place. Even Renee’s here, back from saving the world to see her family. Neil’s been nervous all week, without the league to distract him (at least they’d won finals, for the first time since Neil’s freshman year). He doesn’t like being alone anymore. Andrew gets it. He’s not exactly keen about long-distance, either, but they’ll make it work. They always have.

Because of flights and timezones and logistics, they all meet at the house. Andrew is coming back from Denver, flying against his will. Neil and the others will be at the house getting ready by the time he gets back: he’s given himself enough time to get the Maserati from the airport parking, drive around till he feels back in his skin, go home, have a shower and beready to leave by thetime. the others are too. He’s driving tonight, Renee hauling the others in Matt’s truck. Neil will drive Andrew’s car home. It’s an old routine. Andrew doesn’t hate it.

Everything he planned to do goes accordingly: the house is chaotic with pre-drinkers by the time he’s back. Erik is there, as is Katelyn, Thea, Wymack and Abby. The latter never come out to the club, but they always take advantage in seeing their Foxes all together again.

Neil is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Allison. Andrew rolls his eyes at his cousin’s teasing: this was normal, by now. Allison liked to play dress-up with Neil, putting him in fancy shirts and eyeliner and well-fitting pants. It was one of the only things that Andrew appreciated about her: that, and her seeming loyalty to Renee.

It’s five minutes past their due time to leave and the pair still hadn’t left Nicky’s donated bathroom. Andrew grabs his keys and makes for the door, desperate to just wait in the car. There’s some noise from the other side of the kitchen, so Andrew glances over his shoulder.

When he sees Neil, the room suddenly gets incredibly warm.

He’s wearing a skin-tight dress that barely makes it to mid-thigh. The sleeves are down to his wrists but the neckline is wide enough to see the gunshot wound against his collarbone. The material is thick enough to conceal the history of his torso, but tight enough to cling to every muscle.

Worst of all, he’s wearing garters. They’re attached to small shorts - practically underwear - underneath the dress. The garters aren’t lacy, just bands of black fabric around his thighs, but Andrew gets the nearly insurmountable urge to veto the entire night all together.

He leaves the house before anyone else can see his reaction, but Neil had already been looking: he was always looking at Andrew.

Nicky jostles Andrew for a reaction for the entire drive to Eden’s but Andrew remains still as stone. It isn’t until Neil sidles up to him by the bar and whispers “Do you like it?” that Andrew brushes his lips against Neil’s ear and says,

“Yes.”

The third time Allison wrangles Neil into a dress is unprecedented. They’re at Renee and Allison’s wedding. Andrew is Renee’s best man, which means standing at the altar for the entire ceremony. Luckily, Neil is Allison’s, and Dan is there for both of them, so he isn’t alone.

Renee doesn’t change her suit before the reception, but Allison being Allison has a full wardrobe change planned, so she drags Neil off when they arrive at the venue. Andrew nurses a champagne and listens to Thea complain about Kevin’s baby fever, whilst Wymack looks on in horror at the thought of being a grandfather. It’s mildly amusing.

When Allison and Neil arrive, he nearly spits out the wine.

Allison has changed into a red thing of silk and lace. He’s sure it’s very stylish, but he has eyes for no one but Neil.

The dress is backless. It’s dark grey, satin, and tied around the back of his neck. There’s a slit up one leg. Neil is ignoring the looks of Allison’s extended family as he walks her into the room and to where Renee is waiting for her, somehow able to glide across the floor in heels. When did Neil learn how to walk in heels?

Neil arrives at Andrew’s side, older, wiser, knowing exactly what this is doing to his husband. Andrew pinches the satin at Neil’s hip, admiring the drapery and the slant of Neil’s shoulders.

“I distinctly remember Allison threatening to cut your balls off if you upstaged her,” Andrew murmurs, letting Neil lean into him.

Neil hums. “Well, she picked the dress. It’s her own fault.”

“I hate it,” Andrew returns, tilting Neil’s chin sideways with two fingers for a kiss. The wedding is small, just their family and the irrelevant acquaintances Allison had invited. They are already out. Andrew doesn’t care. All he wants is to tear what little fabric Neil is wearing off and mail Allison the remnants.

“You can borrow the heels,” Neil whispers. “My neck’s already sore enough as it is.”

“Watch yourself, Josten,” Andrew retorts.

Neil’s smile is giddy. He presses one last kiss to the corner of Andrew’s jaw, steals his flute of champagne and saunters off, dress fluttering around his ankles.

And after all this time, Neil still makes Andrew feel like he’s teetering on the edge of the cliff.

Idiot, he thinks, stifling the slight twitch of a smile.

#andreil #neil josten #dresses #post canon #fluff #andrew minyard #all for the game #aftg #the foxes #allison reynolds #neil josten can step on me lmao

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nekojitachan · 4 years ago

Text

it’s been a long week but at least I got this done. And now I have to get chapter fics done. Really. But the first part of the angsty Raven!Andrew soulmate not fic is done. Not that I’m already thinking of the second part. And hey! It’s a fic that’s under 40k...

Last part can be found here

Mentions of violence (being beaten) but not explicit, but I think that’s it? Oh, references to Ichirou’s past.

*******

Waking up in pain wasn’t unusual for Andrew, not after all the years in the foster system then his time spent in juvie. He’d gotten so used to it that it had been unexpected, living with Nicky and Aaron, when he woke up most days without the sensation of pain somewhere in his body, only to be replaced with the strain from overworked muscles once he joined the Ravens (oh, and a sadistic bastard who had a thing for caning his players).

But this? The stinging throb from punches and kicks? Definitely familiar. What wasn’t? The large room with black leather couches, large, flat-screen televisions on the wall, a fancy-looking bar, and expensive artwork scattered around the place, not to mention an expanse of windows on the one side. Andrew rubbed his bound hands through the plush red carpet he lay upon and suspected that he was in the East Tower where Nathaniel spent so much time.

He’d just started to push himself into a sitting position when he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. “Looks like the runt is awake,” a deep voice called out. “Just like Junior, he bounces back fast.”

Before Andrew could turn around, he found himself jerked upright by the back of his jersey by Nathan Wesninski of all people; the bastard was dressed in black slacks and a light grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He barely had time to take that in before he was punched in the stomach, right where his padding was the thinnest, with enough force to make him gasp in pain, and then again in the face. As he struggled to shove the bastard away, to do something, Wesninski laughed and slammed him against the wall. “And just like Junior, you don’t know when to behave and take your punishment, you little-“

“That’s enough.”

The firmly spoken command was enough to stop Wesninski in mid-punch; the bastard grunted as he let go of Andrew’s throat and stepped away. “I was told to teach him a lesson.”

“I believe you’ve done that,” a young Asian man, dressed in a tailored black suit, told Wesninski as he stepped forward; he looked to be in his early twenties, if that, with a lean build and black hair combed back from a face which was oddly familiar.

Andrew suspected that he’d finally met Ichirou Moriyama.

“Tetsuji said-“

“And I just told you that’s enough.” Despite Ichirou not raising his voice, something in his dark gold eyes made Wesninski stiffen and bow his head. “I’ll deal with Minyard, you can leave and inform my uncle that the matter is resolved on your way out.” When Wesninski moved forward, Ichirou spoke again. “And Nathan? I’ll also deal with Nathaniel.”

Something unpleasant flashed across Wesninski’s face at the mention of his son. “It’s best if I handle my-“

Ichirou cut off the man known as ‘the Butcher’ once again as he walked over to the bar. “He’s not your anything anymore, not after you sold him to my family. You have your orders.” He looked up from pouring a drink to give Wesninski a cold look, as if daring the man to make him say anything else.

He might be a sadistic, abusive bastard, but Wesninski apparently could get the hint; he bowed his head in a curt manner then stalked out of the room.

Andrew slumped against the wall and watched him go, then focused his attention on the unknown Moriyama; well, that was partially untrue. He knew that the young man was Riko’s older brother yet had nothing to do with the asshole, and that for some reason, he tended to look out for Nathaniel.

That he appeared to be here to ‘deal’ with Andrew.

“What, no drink for me?” he drawled as he raised his bound hands to dab at his bleeding lip.

Ichirou regarded him with cool appraisal while he sipped his drink, appearing in no hurry to answer. Once the glass was empty, he set it down on the bar and refilled it. “Nat tells me that you’re intelligent, almost frighteningly so, and never forget a thing. He also says you’re very stubborn, which isn’t a surprise if you’re his soulmate.”

Andrew merely grunted in response to those facts.

“I know that you’re rather talented at Exy, considering your stats, and that you’ve been protecting Nat.” Ichirou paused to sip his drink while Andrew gazed at him with a blank expression. “And that Nat has feelings for you, because he’s never tried to sneak anything out of here before, yet he’s suddenly discovered a new appreciation for sweets, something he’s always hated before.”

“That’s quite a guess, isn’t it? Maybe he took them for Moreau,” Andrew suggested as he stared at the zip tie around his wrists as if he could will it to melt away.

Ichirou huffed as if amused and swirled the golden alcohol around in the cut crystal glass. “I’ve known Nat for years, and the only time he requests anything for his partner is when we had marzipan treats. No, this was for you, his soulmate, the man who required seven people to pry him away from Nat.”

It would have taken more than that if that prick, Riko, hadn’t smashed a racquet down on his head; only his helmet saved him from a serious injury. “I do it for all the boys who bring me cupcakes.”

“I’m sure.” The right corner of Ichirou’s mouth twitched upward as he reached into an inner pocket of his suit’s coat and pulled out a knife.

“Gonna start on that whole ‘deal with me’ thing?” Andrew asked as he eyed the weapon with care; Ichirou had a few inches on him, but he thought he could take the Japanese man even with his hands bound – at least knock him aside and get a good head’s start.

“Hmm, something like that. Hold out your hands and remain still,” Ichirou ordered as he came to a halt just out of reach. He gave Andrew a bored look while he flipped the knife in his right hand. “Unless you don’t want to have that drink and talk about something that will benefit Nat in the end.”

That… was that a trick? Andrew frowned at the Moriyama for a moment before he decided he could always beat him up if it was and held out his hands. He tensed as Ichirou slashed with the knife, but only to sever the plastic tie holding his hands bound. “What about Nat?” he asked as he rubbed his sore wrists once they were free.

“He told me that you found out about his father selling him to my family, and about what we really do,” Ichirou said as he returned to the bar and poured another glass of what turned out to be a very nice whiskey. “Don’t be upset with him, as he knows better than to lie to me.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that ‘knows better’ part; he forced himself to have another sip of whiskey rather than throw it in the asshole’s impassive face. “Yes, I know.” Between Jean and his truth game with Nathaniel, he finally did know why Riko thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted, consequences be damned.

“Yes, so you understand that my father is a very powerful man, one who doesn’t tolerate weakness, and he’s raised me to be the same way,” Ichirou explained as he removed his coat, which revealed a pistol in a shoulder holster, then he began to undo the cuff of his left sleeve once the coat was draped over the back of the nearest couch.

The whiskey helped a little with the pain, so Andrew poured himself another glass. “I know you’ve a pet serial killer in your pocket, and your dad disowned your little brother for some reason, which has given the psycho some serious daddy issues. Is there a point to this?”

Ichirou’s lips twitched again. “Very much so, especially in regard to Riko.” His expression turned flat when he mentioned his brother. “As I said, we’re allowed no weakness.” He turned his left forearm to Andrew, which exposed his soulmate mark.

What was left of it, that was.

Cold washed down Andrew’s spine when he realized that the shadow-like flower petals which surrounded the sword indicated that Ichirou’s soulmate was dead, and he instinctively reached for his own mark as if to confirm that it was unmarred (that Nathaniel was still alive). Ichirou noticed the movement and nodded once before he reached for his neglected drink.

“There is to be only one Moriyama heir at a time, to avoid splitting the clan apart with rivalries. My mother, my father’s soulmate, knew that, yet….” He paused for a long swallow of whiskey then refilled the glass once it was set down. “Perhaps she felt certain the child would be a girl, or that my father wouldn’t care if it was a boy since he allowed her to bear the child. Regardless, that child was Riko, and my father chose to punish her for risking the clan’s succession.”

Andrew suspected that the woman hadn’t had her credit cards cut up or something like that, not when Ichirou had another gulp of whiskey.

“It wasn’t enough that Riko took my mother away from me, but my father confirmed at his birth that he was a boy and noticed that he had no soulmate mark. He decided that was the one way that his unwanted child was better than me and resolved to spare me his own weakness.” He held up his exposed left arm and gazed at it without emotion. “When I found my soulmate, he immediately had her killed.”

Well, this was such a fascinating story, all full of fun trauma and everything, but Andrew had a living soulmate he needed to check on (and keep out of trouble). “Can we skip to the point of this? I assume there’s a reason you’re monologuing.”

Ichirou’s eyes narrowed as he rolled down his sleeve. “Riko should never have been born, yet here he is, a thorn in my father’s side. Soon he’ll be a thorn in my side, and that I won’t allow.” The young mobster’s voice grew harsh as he tugged on his suit coat. “Unlike my father, I pay attention to what happens here, I know that Tetsuji has created a monster who is one major scandal from bringing unwanted attention our way.”

“You listen to Nathaniel,” Andrew surmised as he debated one more drink but decided against it.

“Nat,” Ichirou acknowledged with a slight bob of his head, “and I’ve placed a few of my men within the Nest in the past year. There has been an increasing amount of Ravens who’ve washed out before graduation in the last couple years due to the ‘stress’ of the program, and now Kevin Day. It’s only going to get worse by the time Riko himself graduates.”

Here came the sales pitch, Andrew thought as he pulled away from the bar. “What do you expect me to do?” Someone like Ichirou didn’t save him from a beating and ply him with expensive alcohol for nothing.

The smile that had threatened to form on Ichirou’s lips finally was allowed free, though it was a slight, cold thing. “Riko has taken much from me, so in return I want him to lose everything.” He turned around to face the expanse of windows which overlooked Castle Evermore. “Everything he holds dear, I want him to see it slip from his grasp right before the life he never should have had ends.”

Andrew thought about that for a moment while he felt out the large bump on his head. “You want me to take down Riko.” Ichirou gave a curt nod. “And the Ravens?”

“The team will need new management to undo the damage Riko and Tetsuji has done to it and allow it to be useful once more.”

Okay. “That sounds like you want me to take down Tetsuji as well.” Not that he was complaining, especially after all the canings. Especially after all the canings to Nathaniel.

Ichirou looked over his shoulder, his expression impassive once more. “It needs to be done in a manner that the main branch can control, to ensure that our people are in place to pick up the pieces once those two are removed.”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he picked up the crystal decanter filled with whiskey. “You’re not asking for much, are you?” When Ichirou remained quiet, he clicked his tongue again. “What do I get out of all this?” A million bucks would be nice.

Ichirou resumed gazing upon the Exy court below. “Other than currently not being beaten half-dead by the Butcher? There is the matter of your soulmate.”

Mention of Nathaniel made Andrew stiffen, ready to throw the decanter at the first threat uttered against him. “What about Nat?” he asked, voice harsh with warning.

“He will always belong to the Moriyamas, he’s too useful and already knows too many things,” Ichirou said, his back still turned to Andrew as if unconcerned about being attacked. “But as with all things of value, he should be treated with care, not abused and locked away. Agree to this, and he’ll formally belong to the main branch. Once you’ve completed the task? Well, we can discuss allowing Nat a bit more freedom.” He turned around to give Andrew a stern look. “Within reason. He’ll always have obligations to honor.”

Andrew would deal with those ‘obligations’ one day, the main thing was protecting Nathaniel. If it also meant getting him away from the Nest by fucking up Riko? Not a problem, not a problem at all. “Can I rely on your people for assistance?” he asked, mind already busy thinking up possibilities; his biggest challenge was being restricted to the Nest most of the time.

“Of course, Nat can assist you with that.” Ichirou cocked his head to the side as he regarded Andrew. “I assume we are in agreement?”

“Make sure the assholes leave Nat alone and yes, we’re in agreement.” Andrew would be all in to kill Riko regardless, but anything that benefited Nathaniel on top was added incentive.

“Wonderful.”

Not really, that would be Andrew wiping out all the Moriyamas and the Butcher as well then riding off into the distance in a nice new Ferrari with Nathaniel beside him, but it was a start. He hummed as he walked away with the whiskey, done with the conversation (and Moriyamas) for the time being; he heard Ichirou huff behind him then speak Japanese a moment later, and found a guard waiting out in the hallway who ‘escorted’ him back to the Nest.

Ichirou might be a Moriyama bastard, but at least he knew when to pick his battles.

The halls of the Nest were unusually quiet and empty; Andrew suspected that everyone had gone to ground after their ‘king’ having a wee bit of disassociation from sanity earlier. He made his way to Nathaniel’s room and didn’t bother to knock before entering.

He found his soulmate huddled on his bed, right cheek bruised and expression startled, with Jean nowhere to be found. “Where’s Valjean?” Andrew asked as he sat down on the other end of the bed.

“Uhm, off with Toby and Leif.” Nathaniel gave him a worried look as he slowly unfurled. “Are you all right? Did Tetsuji do anything to you?”

“Just peachy.” Andrew set the bottle on the floor as he turned toward Nathaniel, sore body protesting from the movement. “Why are you alone?”

Nathaniel frowned as he reached for Andrew’s face but stopped just short of touching him. “Because Tetsuji said he called my father. I didn’t want Jean here when he comes.” He glanced at the door and shook his head. “You should go.”

Aw, was someone trying to protect him from the big, bad Butcher? “I already had the displeasure of meeting the walking sperm-bank who fathered you,” Andrew said as he got up to fetch a change of clothes, tired of wearing his uniform; he figured one of Jean’s shirts and a pair of Nathaniel’s loose cotton pants should fit. Somewhat fit.

“Wait, you did? Are you really okay?” Nathaniel asked in a rush as he got up, too (and fetched the pants once he figured out what Andrew was looking for). “Is he still here?”

“Ichirou sent him on his way and told him to leave you alone.” Andrew took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change, but left the door open a crack so they could continue to talk. He’d ache for the next couple days, but it felt good to get his gear off at last.

“Ichirou’s here, too? Great.” It sounded as if Nathaniel slumped against the wall. “Is he angry? I mean, not that he yells or anything when he’s mad, but you can tell because of how he goes all tense and fake smiley.”

Good to know. “Not with you.” If anything, Ichirou thought a little too well of ‘Nat’, especially since he didn’t have a soulmate of his own anymore, but one thing at a time.

“Oh.” Andrew stepped back into the room to find Nathaniel nibbling on his bottom lip as he dwelled on something. “Why did he talk to you, then?”

“Because he wants me to do something for him.” There was no reason to keep it a secret, not when he’d need Nathaniel’s help (and probably Jean’s as well).

And maybe a certain stubborn idiot would back down to throwing himself into trouble if he knew that there was an endgame in sight.

(Who was he kidding?)

“And what is that?” Nathaniel reached out to tug on the overlarge t-shirt Andrew wore and pull him closer, seemingly unafraid of his presence. “What does he want?”

Andrew leaned his forearms against the wall, which penned his soulmate in; Nathaniel gazed at him without fear but a growing amount of impatience. “It seems that he doesn’t care for his baby brother and wants me to take him down,” he murmured after he leaned in, his mouth close to Nathaniel’s right ear.

“You… Ichirou’s finally going to do something about Riko?” Nathaniel stared at him in disbelief. “And he wants you to help?”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he fought not to slide his fingers into his soulmate’s tousled hair. “He wants me to do all the fucking work, and he wants the psycho gone before he causes too many problems.” He’d keep quiet on the whole family drama for now, especially since Nathaniel had his own share of it.

“Oh.” Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip again, while Andrew struggled not to shiver in response, to lean in and suck on it to soothe the savaged flesh. “You… you don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’ll help.”

Of course he would. “I agreed to do the deal.”

“And I owe Riko for years of- I owe him,” Nathaniel argued, his voice hoarse and eyes alight with anger.

“Fine,” Andrew relented after a few seconds. “But you listen to me and don’t do anything on your own.” Nathaniel nodded and, after a moment, once more reached for his abused mouth, his fingers a scant distance away as he traced along his split lower lip.

“Are you really okay? I know… I know how my father can be.”

That was quite the understatement. “I’m fine,” Andrew insisted as he gave in and slid the fingers of his right hand into Nathaniel’s mussed curls. “What about you?”

The idiot shrugged and didn’t look away. “Tetsuji hit me a couple times but he was too busy dealing with Riko and willing to leave me to my father.” When his hand lingered near Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew caught it and rested it along the side of his neck; that time he shivered to feel his soulmate touch him.

“There and along my shoulder,” he said, his voice husky for some reason. “Yes or no?” he asked, unable to hold back when his soulmate looked at him like that, when he showed such concern, when he allowed him so close without fear. Unable to explain exactly what he meant.

Nathaniel blinked at the question, his pupils blown and reaction slow, and just when Andrew was about to pull away, used his hold on Andrew’s neck to gently pull him closer. “Yes,” he breathed out as his eyes drifted shut. “Yes.”

Later they would talk, would sit down and figure things out… but right then, all Andrew wanted to do was have Nathaniel’s lithe body against his, to do some of his own nibbling on that full bottom lip, to feel a heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own between his lips as he sucked on his soulmate’s neck…

His soulmate.

Nathaniel was addictive and almost docile in his arms, was mindful of his hands while he arched into Andrew’s touch like a cat which craved attention. He was… he was perfect, and only the aches from being hit earlier convinced Andrew that he was real.

He wanted so much more than kisses and lingering touches, but there was Nathaniel choking back on a ‘please’, was him smoothing his thumb over the ‘3’ on a flushed cheekbone. He wanted, and it seemed that his soulmate wanted, too (was it truly real?), yet he pulled away before he did something to ruin the one truly good thing that Fate had seemed to grant him in his life.

(Which he would burn the world to ash to keep safe.)

“Ohhh… wait, no,” Nathaniel breathed out as he grabbed the hem of Andrew’s borrowed shirt. “Why? Did I-“

Andrew flicked at a loose curl that fell onto his soulmate’s face. “That’s enough for now, sweetpea. Don’t want to overwhelm you with my sexiness.”

As expected, Nathaniel went from aroused to annoyed in less than two seconds. “Overwhelm me with your arrogance? Too late, hasenfürzchen.” When Andrew went to complain about his nickname, Nathaniel pushed forward and dragged him toward the bed – unfortunately, just to talk. “Now let’s figure out what to do while Jean’s not here.”

True, they’d have more time to talk about things between them on Friday, they might as well focus on getting rid of Riko as soon as possible. Part of Andrew chided him for being a fool in thinking that Nathaniel was such a ‘sure thing’, but each time his soulmate smiled at him and agreed to something long-term….

Nathaniel did the impossible and made him believe.

(Nathaniel also agreed to hide the rest of the whiskey so he didn’t have to share it with Ben, which meant he had something else to look forward to on Friday.)

He forced himself to leave eventually, aware that Jean was worried about his partner and intent on doing something before the Ravens met up for dinner. Nathaniel’s burner phone in hand (oh yes, Ichirou needed to learn some boundaries in regard to others’ soulmates very soon), he went out on court for some necessary privacy and called one of the two numbers on it (the other was going to be deleted very soon).

A familiar voice answered, sounding a bit confused. “Nat? It’s not Sunday, is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, but it’s not Nat,” Andrew told Kevin Day in French. “He did lend me this phone, though, if you hadn’t guessed.”

It was quiet on the end for several seconds. “Nat’s all right, yes? I mean, you’re his soulmate so-“

“Yes, he’s fine.” Andrew felt a bit insulted by the question. “Shut up with the stupid questions, I don’t have much time.”

“I- okay, what’s going on?”

Slightly better. “This is where you answer my questions and then listen as I tell you what’s going to happen if you want to remain free of the Moriyamas,” Andrew told him. “As well as pay back the friends who got you out of this hellhole.” Perhaps he was taking Ichirou a bit too literally with the whole ‘allow Nat more freedom’, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

(He’d kill the crime lord when he came to it, if necessary.)

All that mattered was that Kevin Day listened and obeyed, and played his part in Riko’s downfall.

(He wondered what it would take to get Nathaniel to go with him to Eden’s.)

*******

IDFK why it removes some of my italics. IDFK.

There you go, Ichirou dealing with Andrew instead of Neil/Nathaniel. I imagine it’s a lot of blank faces all around.

It hasn’t been a good migraine week and busy w/ work, so hopefully this isn’t too much gibberish.

Thanks so much, those of you who’ve stuck with this not-fic.

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wjsns · 4 years ago

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if you could pick hairstyles for wjsn ( that they've never had! ), how would you style our girls?

omggg such a fun question ok here is what i think:

seola: egirl side bangs like JENNIE with a released forehead

exy: i’d really like to see her with a fun unnatural color like purple or blue (im thinkin gowon style like longer and wavy!)

soobin: ok ik she already had it but the pink hair from happy :3 perfection

xuan yi: i want xuan yi to go MINT GREEN so bad!!!! short long straight curly idc but i want mint

luda: im obsessed with silver hair on luda but I’d like to see it in like a shorter style kind of like what she had for i wish :)

dawon: i want to see dawon with the hair dayoung just got like two days ago! super long semi curled icy blonde no bangs

bona: RED!!! and not that dct shit but DAYOUNG SMSY RED shoulder length

mei qi: this is hard i think my favorite hair she had was during dct & wavy & long i would love to see that but short (i think the shortest shes ever gone is just below shoulders, something shorter than that would be so fun on her bc she loves playing with masculinity and wearing suits so i think she would so really fun envelope pushing things w it)

eunseo: eunseo i loooove black hair on and would want her to do happy era ponytail & fluffy bangs with black 0_0

dayoung: i want her to try silver! i love bbobbi short hair cutie but i think her long wavy curled hair is her iconic look and would do that in silver

cheng xiao: PINK XIAO PINK XIAO PINK XIAO literally dayoung butterfly hair period (at this point im giving everyone dayoung hair lmao)

yeonjung: i want her to do hair like xuan yi when she had the dark brown hair with pink streaks underneath :3 bc i was in loveee with yj’s streaky hair during LLL but want to take it further

yeoreum: i prefer yor without bangs or with a comma bang so i would do either style with long black curled/wavy hair

#i channeled einstein for this

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orangefoxes · 5 years ago

Text

Are you there God? It’s me, Mary

Despite her family’s wealth and notoriety (in certain circles if not with the general public), Mary was sent to public school. She’d been at the same school since year one, but still didn’t fit in. Her smile too sharp, her words too cutting, her games to violent. Soft things were not what Mary was meant for. Mary wasn’t a girl to befriend, she was a freak with a knife collection.

By the time she was in high school, Mary had begun to get angry. She came home stomping her feet and raising her voice and she slammed doors whenever she got the chance. She liked the noise. She’d gotten smacked by her parents more than once for it, but she wore the bruises like a fashion statement. Sometimes she’d even dig her fingers into them to make them stay purple for longer. Life just didn’t feel like it was what she was meant for. She lay in bed and flipped one her knives between practiced fingers and played at being dead.

At a gathering (her parents refused to call them parties) where they were hosting some American crime families, all eager to make links with someone powerful and away from the moriyamas, whoever the hell they were. Mary snuck away and sat in the garden instead of listening to their double speak. She practiced the new knife trick her elder brother Stuart had taught her. She hissed through her teeth as she slipped and cut her hand. She wiped the blood onto her skirt and tried again. This time she got it right, if awkwardly.

“Impressive,” a red headed man said with a smile that was all teeth. He had one of those smooth southern drawls that Mary had only ever heard on tv. “I bet I can do better” He’d snatched her knife from her before she could blink. He preformed an impressive trick, effortless and fluid. His blue eyes gleamed and Mary grinned. He liked knives too.

That was how she met Nathan Wesninski.

He was 24 years old.

She was 13.

He stayed in the country for months afterwards. Mary saw him every chance she got, ditching school almost every day and getting the bus to his hotel. When the time came for him to go back to Baltimore, he asked her to come with him. Told her he’d miss her terribly. She begged and pleaded with her parents to let her go with Nathan. They refused. Stuart wanted to kill him. Mary loved him. Her parents scoffed. She was 13. What did she know of love?

For anyone else, that would have been the end of it. But Mary wasn’t just anyone. She was a girl that had grown up in one of the most powerful crime families in Europe. She stole money and paid for forged documents and boarded a plane to Baltimore a week later.

Nathan’s house was large and fancy. One of those houses that were rightly called manors. He had once told her that it had previously been his childhood home. One of the first things she’d asked upon arrival was the whereabouts of his parents. He grinned and knocked the heal of one of his leather shoes against the polished wooden floor. “Six feet under, honey.” The smile didn’t scare her. Not yet, at least. Mary’s grandad had killed his entire family to keep the syndicate going, so the statement didn’t faze her. Instead, she only wondered if he had meant his words generally or if his parents really were buried under the house like she suspected.

Mary was on the tail end of 14 when she had Nathaniel. He had red hair and blue eyes like his dad, but he had her nose and mouth. She called him Abram. Mary’s parents had been right, she had known nothing of love. But now she did. Abram was perfect.

It was few and far between the she wasn’t covered in bruises. These weren’t the sort that you wore with pride, these were the kind that hurt when you moved, lasted for weeks and felt like they were stained onto your bones for longer still. Nathan didn’t stop there. His blade had met her skin whenever his mood had shifted too fast for her to track. Mary spent nights staring down at Abram’s perfect little face, his red hair beginning to curl like hers. The next time Nathan came at her with a knife, Mary bared her teeth and cut him back.

Mary was 16 and their bedsheets smelt like Lola. Mary thundered like she was 13 and fearless again. Let Nathan bruise and bleed for once.

They got married when Mary turned 18. Abram was 4. Nathan dismembered the vicar afterwards. He lifted Nathaniel up and span him around. Nathaniel laughed. Nathan’s hands stained his little suit red. Mary felt sick. She learnt then what she should have known all along. Nathan didn’t kill to further the mob, or at least not just because of that, he killed because he enjoyed it. Innocent, no nothing people, dead and tortured. For all that Mary had grown up around death and violence, it had not been like this. Never like this.

She called Stuart. Sobs wrenching themselves from her chest. He said he’d kill him, begged her to come home. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. He’d kill them.

It began to feel like she was walking with bare feet in a room of smashed glass. Scared in her own home. She jumped at shadows and flinched at sudden noises. She had never felt a fear like this before. She didn’t care for it.

Abram, her precious little boy, became quiet and timid. He’d learnt that his daddy was a monster. He had scars and bruises on his too young body and often had blood under his nails. Mary loved him. She couldn’t protect him.

She kept trying.

She took him to the little league exy games to get him out of the house. Watching him play, hearing him laugh, it was the happiest Mary can ever remember being. She smiled when ever he looked over at her. ‘Look mum, look what I did.’

Of course Nathan found a way to ruin that too.

Mary took the money and her son and she ran.

The first time she hit him, it was because he wouldn’t stop talking. She needed quiet to plan their next move. She was immediately so so sorry. He’d had his back cut open by Lola and just sat there, but one slap from Mary and he’d cried. She held him close to her chest, buried her face into his now brown hair (he looked more like her now that him) and rocked him until he stopped. Her precious boy. Her poor precious boy.

Unfortunately, it got easier to hurt him after that. But he just wouldn’t listen! She needed him to listen. To be quiet, unseen, to stop playing exy. She needed him to be safe.

She kept them in France for too long. She’d met a woman called Suzette. She was sweet and funny and invited them around for tea. Mary was lonely. She’d never had a friend before. Nathan caught up with them, Suzette was dead and Abram was bleeding. Her son was hurt, and that was on her. Anything inside her that had still been soft, Mary bricked up and filled in with cement.

Mary stitched Abram up, crying at the sound of his pain. She was glad his back was to her so that he wouldn’t see her weak. Abram looked at her and saw the strongest person in the world, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t.

She considered going back to England. Instead she took them to Germany. How could she ever face her family now? How could she pull them into this mess with the Moriyamas, who had no qualms against killing and manipulating family members to make a point.

It become a habit to always sleep back to back with Abram, or wrapped around him as tight as she could get. She was constantly reassuring herself that he was still there. He was still alive.

She catches him kissing a girl in Canada. She beats him black, blue and bloody. That girl would ruin him. She and everyone else would take his soft heart and crush it. He would become reckless and dumb and dead. He can’t make her mistakes. He can’t.

Her poor, precious boy. That heart of his will get him killed.

They’re in Seattle and she’s in so much pain that she’s in no pain at all. She drives until she can’t anymore. Abram is crying. “Promise me” he needs to be safe. “Promise me. Keep running, never look back, never be anyone for too long.” He’s crying harder.

She’s 13 and playing with knives in the garden. She’s 31 and choking on her own blood. Life was never what Mary was meant for.

She kept her eyes on his face.

Dear god, just let him be better than her. Just let him be better.

#mary hatford #the foxhole court #all for the game #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #nathan wesninski #the sad life of mary hatford

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ashiemochi · 2 years ago

Text

anubussy - xii (ii)

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

Rose Guidry belongs to @the-resident-vampire!!

prev -> next

Speeches time was – if not – the one thing So Ah was worried about; and not in a bad way. She really didn’t want to test the limits of her mascara.

Chris, surprisingly, had a speech prepared but he didn’t write it down. He started out simple and lighthearted, ending it with a little inside joke. The guests laughed but those who knew shared looks whilst muffling their snickers.

“First, I’d like to congratulate my two dear friends – actually, only one. I don’t know about Leon, he smells weird. I’m only kidding. Congratulations you two. The venue is really beautiful and judging from the plants and the artistic themes, I think we all know who did most of the decor choices. Lastly, Leon, hope you’re ready for the chase of your life. Cheers.”

Then was ChoHee who actually brought a small piece of paper with her. Her speech was a bit longer but sweet to the newlyweds. Of course, a best friend wasn’t a best friend without some playful jokes.

“I’m surprised So Ah got to marry first – and now I owe her dinner at Congdu. I remember the first time she told me about Leon, and something in me knew that she was already head over heels for him. When I met him, I just thought to myself ‘it’s gotta be that goddamn hair’. I love you, So Ah. Sharing my bento with you was the best decision I’ve ever made. And Leon, take care of her or I’m getting the scissors. Cheers!”

Michael went third and Jaehyun instantly gave So Ah a good luck look, reminding her that their dad truly had not a single emotion in his bone. He was always the stoic kind and straight to business. Sugarcoating was not his forte.

“Thank you all for attending my daughter’s and my now son-in-law’s wedding. As some of you may know about the incident several years ago, he was the one who kept her safe throughout it all. My family’s safety was my top priority too, so it felt good to see that he thought the same. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done if something were to have happened to my dear So Ah. So, congratulations and welcome to the family, Leon Kennedy.”

Okay, Jaehyun looked surprised, earning a faint giggle from the bride at his face. Leon had nudged So Ah’s shoulder with his, grinning as he gently tapped his wine glass with hers.

Lastly was Sena. How So Ah felt after she was done didn’t need to be said.

“This might be a little long, so please, forgive me – but I’m not truly sorry. It seems like yesterday where So Ah was just a little girl drawing how she’d wish her wedding to be with her little Prince Charming. And now, it’s all come true because Leon’s here to treat her like the princess she is.”

“You have no idea how utterly proud I am of you for being so strong and so kind – and know that Minji would’ve been just as proud, if not more. I only wish I would’ve been there for you more when you were young as I feel I have missed watching you grow into the woman you are right now. To my eyes, you’ll always be my baby. My sweet little Soo. Here’s to Leon and So Ah, wishing nothing but the most beautiful days for you two.”

Leon comforted So Ah when she started crying a little, rubbing her back and tugging her close to kiss her temple.

And that concluded the speeches.

✠

It was time for their first dance – So Ah was about to vomit as Leon was fixing his suit whilst the DJ started the next song.

“I don’t think I can dance, Leon.” She whispered to him, catching his attention, “It’s difficult with the heels on.”

Leon glanced down then at her, pushing his chair back “So, take them off.”

Her eyes widened a bit, clearly shocked, “What?”

“It’s not like anyone would notice with your dress being that long.” Leon pointed out with a chuckle.

Her blush was soft as she rubbed her arm, admitting, “I never really learned how to slow dance.”

A gentle smile reached his lips as he stood up, offering his hand, “Just follow my lead.”

She set her hand on his and Leon caught her legs shuffling a bit underneath her dress. When she stood up, she was noticeably shorter before she got on her tiptoes to make it seem she was still wearing them. God was she too endearing.

The lights had dimmed down, leaving the soft glow only on the dance floor when he led her to the centre of it. The floors felt cold beneath her toes but it slipped her mind when Leon stood in front of her.

With the hand he was leading her, he put it on his shoulder before grabbing her other. His free hand went to her waist, slowly moving her and himself to the melodic song. With his azures on her, hers were on the ground at his feet.

Faint gasps would escape through her parted lips when she’d accidentally misstep, earning a small laugh from her husband. Leon tugged her close, his hand sliding down to the small of her back whilst caressing her other hand to calm her down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked lowly, his lips brushing her forehead as he spoke.

“I don’t want to mess this up…” She answered, swallowing thickly when she let her eyes dart to the guests, “They’re all watching.”

“Let them watch. You?” Leon released her waist to tilt her chin up with his two fingers, gazing into her eyes, “Keep your eyes on me. Watch me.”

With the lights dimmed, it was only them in the room.

This all felt like one big dream. Leon never truly thought he’d find someone to settle down with. Chasing after a woman on the run for years was draining him. On any other day, he would’ve enjoyed the chase but with no end game, it bugged him. With the endless assignments from his division to the constant paranoia about any sudden outbreaks, he fully believed that was his whole life.

But then he saw her.

A certain sunny day in August was all it took to weaken his walls. It was still fresh in his memory, seeing her standing on her lawn with her potted plant and an anxious but excited smile on her face.

A couple of days later, he counted the constellation of stars adorning her cheeks and nose bridge ever so faintly. Under the pale lights of that neighbourhood, his heart was stolen before he could even realize it.

It took months to break his walls down but honestly, maybe they were already crumbling for her. Days and days later, she entered his bubble, soaked to the bone from the rain storm. It was unintentional, but since then, Leon was more than willing to pull her soso close till there was no space in between.

He was in denial for the longest time, filled with guilt of lost opportunities when she slipped through his fingers into the endless void. Seeing her again spread something hot throughout his chest. Kissing her for the first time was forever embedded into his core memory.

The girl he met on that day was finally his, and his only. He was never planning on letting that go.

The Han brother narrowed his eyes a little at the dancing couple before leaning towards his tearful mother, muttering, “Is it just me or did she get shorter?”

Sena blinked at him from behind her napkin, looking back at So Ah. She was clearly shorter than her previous height.

“That girl,” She groaned, shaking her head, “She must’ve taken off her heels again.”

Jaehyun snickered, taking a sip of his wine with a subtle shrug, “She never liked them anyway.”

“It’s fine, my dear.” Michael grasped Sena’s hand, patting it gently with a tender look, “She still looks like our pretty little angel.

Jaehyun tore his eyes away from his parents and to his side at the empty chair. Despite it being a long while since she was gone, the Hans couldn’t help but reserve an extra chair. It was where Minji was supposed to sit.

A sad smile reached his lips, his heart hurting at the realization that she wasn’t around to witness the wedding. Without his eldest sister around, who he was supposed to make jokes to about the event?

He could only pray and hope that she was in a much better place – but in his own selfish ways, he preferred her with the family.

Back to the main show, So Ah gazed up at Leon with such adoration that her pupils would’ve dilated into hearts and comical pink bubbly hearts popped above her head.

Leon grinned down at her, releasing her hand to set it on her waist. With both hands, he lifted her up, twirling them around. A gasp of surprise emitted from her when her feet were no longer touching the ground. Her hands shot to his shoulders, giggling childishly at being up in the air.

By the time he set her down, the song had ended and Leon pulled her close to kiss her deeply – distracting her from the applause from the guests.

Piers grumbled, giving Chris twenty dollars reluctantly, “I didn’t know he’d be that extra.”

Chris took the money with a tilted smile, “It’s his wedding, what did you expect?”

So Ah pulled away from the kiss with a soft smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Leon returned the smile, brushing her strand of hair behind her ear.

“You surprised me.”

“With that spin at the end?”

“Yeah, but the music too,” She giggled, “I didn’t know you knew some slow songs. I fully assumed Backstreet Boys or something.”

Leon shrugged with a tick of his head, a cheeky grin coming to his lips as he nodded at the DJ, “Well…”

So Ah blinked at the new but familiar music playing, giving Leon an incredulous look, “You didn’t.”

Backstreet’s back, alright!

Leon tugged her close, winking at her as several guests got out of their seats to join the dance floor, “Oh, but I did.”

✠

“Hey, Leon! So Ah!”

Leon looked away from his wife who was tugging and fixing the plants on their table where the eaten cake was. She followed suit, turning to find Chris approaching them with a gorgeous girl in hand.

“I’d like you to meet someone. This is Rose.” Chris introduced the girl who already had a gentle smile on her lips.

Her brown hair was neatly curled and pulled over to her shoulder. The dress she wore was a pretty lilac colour with low and sheer sleeves, ending on a sweetheart neckline. It was long, draping over her form just perfectly.

“Nice to meet you.” Leon shook her hand with a kind smile.

So Ah went second, a timid look on her face as she was always shy about meeting new people, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Her eyes snapped to the gorgeous silver ring around her finger with a beautiful green gem in the middle. It took her mind a couple of seconds when she connected the dots, finding a similar ring band on Chris’ finger.

“It’s nice to meet both of you too, finally.” Rose nudged Chris’ side playfully, “He rarely lets me meet his friends.”

So Ah and Leon shared a look, knowing the other have noticed the rings.

“I let you meet my friends,” Chris defended, “Just not these kinds of friends.”

Rose rolled her eyes, a faint smile on her face as she spoke, “He thinks it’ll keep me safe or whatnot – as if I don’t know what you do for a living.”

“The further away you are from this part of the world, the better.” Chris wrapped an arm around her waist with a tender look on his face.

“Say,” Leon cleared his throat, nodding his head at their hands, “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

The couple looked down at their rings in unison then at each other before Chris piped up, “We all gotta tie the knot in the end.”

“No way!” So Ah gasped, surprised, “When did you even do the wedding?!”

Chris barely shrugged, “Back in 2009. It was a small wedding within the family – we didn’t want it too big.”

His wife snorted, “Small wedding.”

He was never the kind to talk much about his personal life, so it didn’t come much of a shock to know that he was married. The fact he never showed it, even for just a second on any day, was what surprised her the most.

Rose showed her ring with a grin, “Goodbye, Rose Guidry and hello, Rose Redfield”

Another alarm rang in the Han girl’s head. She heard that name before; Guidry. It rang numerous bells at the memory. It was only one day when she was young – she had long forgotten about it.

“Wait… Guidry?” So Ah took a step forward, realization slowly washing over her, “We’ve met before, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did.” Rose answered, nodding as she laughed, “I was wondering when you were going to remember me.”

Leon furrowed his brows, “You two know each other?”

“Yeah!” So Ah beamed at the memory, “My parents initially wanted me to study in, uh… What was it called?” She turned to Rose for help.

“Georgetown University,” The girl added, “It’s in DC.”

“That’s it! My parents changed their mind and took me back to Seoul.” So Ah snapped her finger before letting out a happy sigh, “It’s been so long!”

“It’s a very beautiful university. It honestly made me a bit sad when you left.” Rose commented with a subtle pout, “What changed their mind? Should I have shown them around too?”

“Well…” So Ah trailed away with a nervous giggle, darting her eyes to Chris for a split second who only shook his head.

Okay, right.

“It was a family emergency, nothing serious.” She resorted to saying, hiding every single thing that had gone wrong.

Chris didn’t want Rose to be involved with the BOWs? Then he got it.

“Ah, well, it would’ve been fun.” Rose smiled, “I think you would’ve really liked it there – I could’ve shown you around town too!”

“Maybe next time,” So Ah laughed before leaning against Leon, earning a tilted grin and an arm around her waist, “We’ve got a trip planned in a few days and then it’s back to work.”

Rose blinked, “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Hawaii.” Leon answered, sighing as if exhausted, “Not by choice but she always wanted to visit it, so…”

“Hey! You came to me all excited first!”

“No, I didn’t.” Leon pinched her side playfully.

Chris gave Rose a knowing look, “Told you they’re like children.”

“I think it’s endearing!” Rose shot back and she faced So Ah, “We spent our honeymoon in this gorgeous cabin in Montana and he was in charge of chopping wood. Every day, I’d hear him whining about splinters. Every. Day.”

“I never whined. I was complaining.” Chris corrected.

“Should’ve worn gloves.”

“I did.”

“Fingerless ones don’t do crap.”

So Ah gasped faintly, “That’s what I always tell Leon!”

As the two girls laughed, Chris and Leon looked at each other, almost exasperatedly.

Chris sighed, his hand going to Rose’, “We’ll leave you two to your cake. I believe my wife owes me a dance.”

So Ah giggled, “It was nice to meet you again!”

“It was!” Rose exclaimed as Chris began pulling her away, “Congratulations on the beautiful wedding, by the way!”

Leon hummed as his wife waved at the woman, turning to So Ah, “I can’t decide whether I’ve met her before or maybe I’m a bit too tipsy.”

“Well, did you ever go to that uni?” So Ah asked, going back to pick up her drink from the table.

Leon thought about it, leaning one hand on the table with furrowed brows, “Maybe. I’ve been to a lot of places – but mostly for the DSO.”

So Ah blinked at him as she took a sip and he sighed, shaking his head and looking at the cake. With one finger, he scooped some of the whipped cream up and mindlessly stuck it into his mouth. All while she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the gesture.

It was strangely enticing.

“Mmh, best dessert.” Leon smacked his lips with a smirk easing into his lips, having noticed her gaze, “Right after you.”

Her cheeks turned rosier, heat filling up her chest and lower stomach before she smacked his arm.

“Leon, behave!”

“Fine, I’ll save it till tonight.”

✠

A blur of red went past her peripheral vision, freezing the bride in her spot. The words from one of her family members went deaf to her ears, eyes finding Leon looking at her. He too saw the colour. While many of the guests could be wearing red, something about that shade was raising suspicions.

“And then–”

“Excuse me,” So Ah interrupted with a polite smile, “Just for a moment.”

Picking up her dress, she basically skipped out of the venue – which was massive. She was vaguely aware of Leon following her as she stood out in the hallway, turning her head left and right. Again, she saw something red turn the corner and she followed it. The shining clean floors felt cold under her feet, having left her heels behind once again.

The breeze along with the calming scent of the garden surrounded her, grass tickling her skin once she stopped.

So Ah breathed softly, her eyes widening slightly at the woman in front of her, “Ada?”

There she stood; the infamous lady in the red dress. The dark wine maxi gown would’ve made her stand out had she mingled with the guests. It featured a halter neckline with the side and back exposed, held up by thin straps.

Of course, an Ada dress wasn’t an Ada dress without the long side split reaching her upper thighs.

A tilted smile appeared across her redred lips, “Beautiful dress, Han – or should I say, Mrs Kennedy?”

The Han girl giggled bashfully, “Well… Still a Han if we’re talking about this country’s laws.”

Similarly to her parents, Sena didn’t change her surname and kept it Kim when she married Han Michael. Besides, it saved a lot of time with changing documents.

Did So Ah have the choice to change her surname? Yeah.

But was she?

“Still,” Ada gave her a knowing look, “Feels freeing from Han, doesn’t it?”

She did think about it. Having spent most of her life in her home country, it was a little difficult to come to a decision.

Leon jogged to a stop beside So Ah, brows already knitting in the middle, confused, “Ada? What are you doing here?”

Ada pulled out an invitation card from the pouch she had hidden under her dress’ split with a subtle pout, “I got invited though I’m feeling a bit sad to have missed the main event.”

Her sultry eyes turned to Leon’s, “Nice spinning at the end there.”

Leon scoffed, opening his mouth to retort but So Ah butted in, “Can you say longer? I’d love it if you could.”

Ada hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the fancy card and flipping it with her two fingers. It was clear she had already made her choice.

“Hm, sorry, Han – I would but I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Nothing that involves BOWs I hope?” Leon raised a brow, folding his arms against his chest.

He earned a chuckle but she didn’t answer. A rumbling sound seemed to grow louder and nearer and So Ah gasped under her breath at the helicopter showing up. She brought up her arm to shield her face from the rushing wind, feeling a hand press against the small of her back when she stumbled.

A ladder dropped down, swinging next to Ada and she grabbed onto it, climbing the first step. Leon narrowed his eyes at her under the wind.

“I’ve left a little gift in your room! I think you’ll love it,” Ada called out over the sound of the propellers, a sly grin on her lips, “See you around, you two!”

The helicopter went higher and away, leaving them behind. So Ah lowered her arm, staring up at the distant helicopter with a subtle not surprised tick of her head.

“She never changes, does she?” Leon shook his head with a huff.

“It would’ve been weird if she actually stayed.” The girl added.

They laughed together at that. So Ah trailed her eyes up at Leon with a curious look and he returned it.

✠

The door to her room burst wide open, revealing a panting married couple. Right on the vanity was a small gift box with royal red wrapping and next to it was a potted plant with a similar coloured bow wrapped around it.

So Ah walked up to her vanity first, gazing at the plant and picking it up gently to observe it up close. The smell of the fresh bunch of leaves eased her up. A certain memory made its way to her head, making her giggle at the small card attached to it; Leon.

“It’s for you.” She offered it to Leon who instantly recognized the plant, rolling his eyes.

“When is anyone gonna listen to me?” He grumbled, taking the potted Fittonia though his blues grew soft, “I’m not a plant person – especially for this dramatic kind.”

So Ah patted his shoulder with a giggle, “It’s the gesture that matters, Leon.”

She returned her attention to the box, carefully untying it as Leon stared at the plant with a suspicious look on his face. Once the wrapping fell off, she opened the lid and her eyes widened, freezing.

Leon noticed her tensing, looking at her then he darted his eyes down, “What is it?”

He set the plant aside when she reached inside to pull out the picture. It was taken at the Watergate Hotel gala; after six months of being apart.

Her heart melted at how young both of them looked, standing next to each other for the photo. Leon had his arm around her waist, settling his hand on her hip with his usual cheeky smirk. The girl was leaning towards him with a softer smile, her cheeks tinted red at the close proximity and her hands holding onto a single lilac anemone.

Back then, Leon not-so-sneakily took the flower out of the many assorted bouquets around and gave it to her.

A faint giggle emitted through her lips, truly thinking this photograph was long gone. Leon couldn’t help but smile, wrapping his arms around her torso from behind His lips brushed the crown of her head. A gentle kiss.

“Maybe not all her gifts are strange.” Leon mumbled against her hair, his smile widening when he felt her lean against him and he moved his head so it was resting next to hers.

“Maybe.” She repeated as she reached for his arm to grasp onto him, flipping the picture around to see the writing on the back.

Transparency leads to intimacy in marriage, don’t you agree? X

In an instant, her whole body stilled and the picture almost slipped from her fingers. The tracker within her nape blinked at the indirect mention, sending her skin crawling with goosebumps.

Leon leaned down a bit to read the text, scoffing in disbelief, “Yep. Never changes. Always so vague.”

She chuckled at that, setting the picture down as a feeble attempt to calm her nerves. There was barely a thing that can be hidden from Ada. She had sources anywhere and from anyone – of course, she knew about the chip.

So Ah may not trust her that much because really, you can never trust a Wong, but she trusted her enough to not say a word. Judging from the little message she left behind, she was leaving it up to the Han girl to clean up her own mess.

She turned around to face Leon, hands reaching up to fix his tie, “Mhm, she’s as mysterious as one can get.”

Leon’s lips twitched, gazing down at her, “Penny for your thoughts?”

She blinked, looking up at him and smiled softly, “Just you, only you.”

Her hand felt delicate on his cheek and he found himself leaning against it, grasping her hand to keep it there. A lovelove glint was in his azures, making them seem bluer.

“Funny, I can tell you what’s on my mind, but it’s better if I show it.” His voice dropped a tone, nodding his head at the circular beige couch.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she grew flustered, catching on. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, “Uhm, I think it’s better if I show you later at home.”

It was his turn to be intrigued, asking, “Show me what?”

“What’s under this dress,” She mumbled, dusting away invisible dirt off of his blazer whilst attempting to be seductive, "You know how Minx's Body is."

His eyes boggled open, already darting down to her gown as if he'd see what was underneath. With her dress being off-shoulder, the only thing he could assume was that whatever was under didn't have straps.

A low groan came from him, narrowing his eyes a bit at her teasing, "Jesus Christ, sweetheart."

She laughed shyly under his intense gaze, glancing over at the clock on her vanity, "Only two more hours left."

Leon let out an exasperated grumble, "Could just send them home now–"

"Leon!" So Ah gasped, interrupting him but he continued.

"So I could have my way with you."

Did he have to be so blunt about it?

He wasn't even trying to be seductive but it was just tempting at this point. Still, she stood her ground.

"We won't end the reception early just because you're too excited to go home." She practically scolded, making him shrug lazily with an equally lazy smirk.

"Can't help it," His hands went down to her waist, pulling her close with his lips barely brushing hers, "You look goddamn stunning, did I ever tell you that?"

Her blushing intensified, her heart rattling at his not-so-subtle enticing ministration. A loving and timid smile reached her lips.

"Maybe like ten times." She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He chuckled lowly, nose bumping against hers as he maintained eye contact, "I'll keep saying it ten more times then."

Okay, he knew what he was doing. So Ah reluctantly pulled herself away from his arms, holding his hand instead when he reached out to her with a surprised look on his face.

"Later, Leon." She reminded, leading him out of the room before she'd do something that would embarrass her forever.

Leon scoffed light-heartedly, firming up his grasp on her hand, "You're gonna drive me crazy."

"Well, better get used to it." She cheekily shot back, looking at him over her shoulder, "We're married now."

Leon smiled toothily at this, "Yeah, we are."

He sped up to be next to her, pulling her hand up to plant a kiss on the ring. Her whole soul melted at the intimacy and the love in his blueblue eyes when he finished.

"Best decision of my life."

#canon x oc #oc x canon #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil vendetta #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil fandom #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfic #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy smut #oc x leon kennedy

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itsstickball · 5 years ago

Note

I saw your prompt post so can u pls give us the father son Wymack and Andrew dynamic we deserve thank you hallelujah

Okay so I know you probably were expecting sth at a younger stage of life (and tbh, I might still write that, bc it’s good shit), but we’re four weeks into 20quarantine and I miss hockey. And you know what they do in hockey? Dad’s Trips.

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

Andrew’s watching some Netflix series about the drama between a bunch of exotic animal owners, alone in the dark of his apartment with an entire tub of ice cream resting on the pillow in his lap when the call comes through. He’s more invested in the ice cream than the drama, which came out the year prior. In fact, he’d avoided the show until now on the principle of annoying his family and was only watchin it now because he was tired of having to decode the references Neil made any time he posted a picture of Sir.

He doesn’t bother to pause it or move to another room when he hits the “answer” icon on his phone.

“It’s a little late to be getting the mail, isn’t it?” He asked in lieu of a greeting. There was really only one reason for Wymack to be calling him.

“If anything, it’s early. This is yesterday’s mail.” Wymack grunted. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Andrew looked at the clock, and realized that yeah...that tracked. The red numbers blinked back 3:39am at him and he remembered Neil mentioning that the Foxes had a road game this week. Once he did the math, it was actually a little surprising Wymack hadn’t called an hour earlier.

“You called me.” He reminded the coach rather than comment on the rest of it.

There was a sigh from the other end of the line. “I had a hunch.” Wymack retorted. It was more like he had five years to put up with Andrew’s bullshit and Andrew four years of putting up with Neil and Kevin’s. Night practices made more than one lasting impact, it seemed.

“So you got it.” Andrew prompted, not asked.

Wymack sighed again and there was the faint sound of shuffling papers.

“Yeah. I don’t have a fucking clue why, though.”

“It’s pretty self explanatory.” Andrew retorted. “Assuming you can still read.”

“Reading is the only thing I need the glasses for, thank you very fucking much.”

Andrew would be lying if he said the corner of his mouth didn’t twitch up at Wymack’s easy irritability. But this was his apartment and there was no one there to misunderstand it anyway.

“So what’s the problem?” He asked, taking a bite of ice cream while waiting for Wymack to fill the silence with his trepidations.

“Are you sure you want -”

“I gave them the address.” Andrew cut him off, letting Wymack fill in the space between his words. They both knew that he didn’t do or mean things halfway. Without an address, there wouldn’t have been an invitation at all - just like there hadn’t been the previous two years.

More silence, this time less interesting now that Andrew knew what useless emotions were hiding on the other side.

“Do you have any other plans?” He didn’t. Andrew had checked. Wymack’s grunt confirmed what he already knew. “Then let Wilds take over yelling at the delinquents for a weekend.”

“Okay, but Andrew -.”

“The dinner on friday is black tie. Try not to embarrass yourself.” He reminded his former coach and then promptly hung up before Wymack could so much as shout in indignation.

Onscreen, a man with a truly horrendous mullet cussed out one of his rival gamekeepers.

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

Once a year, like many professional Exy Teams, the Spokane Sundogs hosted a special weekend trip for their players and their families - or, more specifically, their fathers. Andrew had scorned the idea of it when brought up by his last two teams - and not just because he had no biological guardian to invite.

This year, however, as the team gathered outside the arena, nearly ready to depart, he stood with mild anticipation.

They were only waiting for one more addition before they boarded, with most of the players and their dad’s already conversing or posing for the team’s PR photographer. Andrew was standing slightly apart from the group, a quirk which thankfully they’d all come to accept about him. This time though, it was with more intention than just preserving his personal space.

“Ah!, finally.” The team’s defensive coach, Elliot Martin said, stepping over to show Andrew the text reading out that their last guest had arrived.

“Took him long enough.” Andrew grunted in reply, thankful that the coach didn’t press or make more noise about the issue. Martin was one of the few people intuitive enough to recognize the difference between Andrew’s silences and attention span. He also didn’t crowd any closer now that their exchange was over.

Just a few minutes later, Wymack’s form strode through the exterior door.

In truth, it was just a chance that his travel plans put him as the last arrival. Andrew felt no ill will or disgruntlement towards the coach for it, but he was undecided on how he felt about the matter as a whole. On the one hand, all of his teammates were currently distracted interacting with each other, but their attention would all be called together now that everyone was here. He doubted any of them expected to see someone standing next to him, and wasn’t looking forward to their speculation.

“Wymack.” He greeted, his voice characteristically monotone.

“Minyard.” The coach nodded and returned it in kind - although Andrew noted he sounded rather tired. That didn’t bode particularly well for someone he was going to have to travel with, but at least they wouldn’t be flying. Wymack didn’t try to step closer than necessary or make any physical greetings with him, which he was grateful for.

Then, however, it was time to go and his position among the coaching staff - complete with his guest was made obvious. A round of quick murmurs went up from the small crowd, which Andrew ignored in favor of staring at their head coach as he gave their schedule. An assistant handed out paper forms of the itinerary and then they were being ushered onto the bus.

“Your teammates seem nice.” Wymack said, apropos of literally nothing, after they’d handed their luggage off to the equipment team.

Andrew grunted.

“Regret inviting me already?” Wymack tried again, this time with a bit of dry humor in his voice.

Andrew turned to look at him, a tiny spark in his eye. “Not at all.” Wymack’s eyebrows furrowed, so he elaborated. “This way, they can pester you with their questions instead of me.”

He pat Wymack once on the shoulder before disappearing into the bus. When he’d found his seat at the very back and chanced a glance out the window, he found Wymack swamped by other players and their dads just a few feet from the steps. He seemed to be handling the attention alright, but Andrew recognized the slight tension in his movements. It was as close to a deer in headlights as Wymack got.

“I hate you.” He said a few minutes later when the coaches got serious about everyone boarding the bus.

Andrew glanced over at where the older man was slumped into the seat next to him. His grin was feral and sharp. “See, you fit right into the family. You’ve already learned our main vocabulary.”

Wymack scowled at him, but there was no real heat to it. And if Andrew’s smile softened and quirked higher on one side, even as he pressed his lips together and turned to look outside - well, there was only one person alive who would call him on it and he was hundreds of miles away.

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

Forty hours later and they’re in the hotel room, getting ready for the fancy team dinner. Andrew was long resigned to having to share rooms with potentially obnoxious teammates for away games, so the change of pace that comes from sharing with Wymack is welcome. Living with him - even for just a few days, even in a cramped room - is familiar. Andrew spent too many nights quarantined with the man in college for it not to be.

There was no threat to anyone’s safety or sanity - aside from the fallout typically associated with overly friendly teammates, but they knew each other’s quirks. Andrew didn’t comment when Wymack woke up at 5:30 to brew an entire carafe of coffee - despite not having any engagements until 9:00. And Wymack didn’t question why he spent nearly the entirety of their afternoon free/rest time sitting on the desk by the window with a pint of ice cream just staring out at the cityscape below.

Andrew didn’t have to hedge or explain why he needed to shower first when it came time to get ready for the dinner. In fact, they skipped the discussion altogether. Both men simply glanced at the clock after the shitty made-for TV movie they’d been watching rolled to credits and Wymack said. “Let me know when you’re done.”

It was that simple.

Being away from the Foxes, from his family for so long, Andrew actually sat there stunned for a moment before Wymack turned back to look at him, prompting a grunt in reply. Seemingly satisfied, his former coach turned back to whatever he was doing with the charcoal suit he’d hung up in their shared closet space. Andrew allowed himself one more second of stillness before getting up and angrily grabbing his own pants and undershirt and locking himself in the bathroom

Behind him, he heard Wymack let out an amused huff, but no comment.

By the time he finished and they swapped rooms, the frustration of his startling realization had left Andrew. He still waited for Wymack to click the bathroom lock in place behind him before he moved to finish dressing and comb his hair into something acceptable. But then he had nearly half an hour to sit on the bed and think before his teammates and their fathers would fill up the fuzzy parts of his brain.

He could use the time to analyse how he got to that point - how Wymack had gotten to that point. Andrew enjoyed living on his own, but it clearly wasn’t just Neil's company at PSU that had left a lasting mark on him. Thirty minutes was plenty of time to catalogue each of the things he’d gotten used to in college that he’d lost again as he moved from team to team each year in the pros…

He flipped on the TV instead.

Wymack opened the door fifteen minutes later to Andrew staring blankly at an infomercial.

“I didn’t take Neil as the type to wear pearls.” He poked, looking bemused from Andrew to the man and woman on stage who were trying to make outdated jewelry seem like the newest fad.

Andrew slid his gaze sideways, eyes focusing in on the older man. Unlike Andrew, he’d exited the bathroom in only his boxers - which, Andrew was secretly bemused to find, were covered in tiny orange fox paws. He didn’t stay that way for long, of course, turning to retrieve his actual clothes from the closet.

“He likes to feel classy.” He shot back, deadpan and several seconds too late to be anything more than a deflection.

Wymack snorted, and for a moment, Andrew thought he’d let it drop. To Andrew’s downfall, unfortunately, he had the capacity to both dress himself and prod at the blonde’s psyche at the same time.

Andrew would have to ask Bee to stop spending so much time with him and Abby. It was ruining his “above my paygrade” modus operandi.

“You know I’m shit at this kind of stuff.” He started and Andrew resigned himself to the fact that they were, evidently, going above the paygrade. “But you’re allowed to enjoy nice things.”

Andrew held back his urge to scoff. “Nice things” had never factored into his life unless he was being accused of breaking them. It would be easy to deliberately misconstrue Wymack’s gruff sincerity, to make this about the pearls, pretty but ultimately meaningless objects. He knew, however, that this wasn’t the type of “nice” the older man was talking about.

How many times had he told Neil that Foxes didn’t get to have nice things? That they came from nothing and so would always have nothing? It turned out, though, that there were a lot of nice things that also came from nothing. Renee’s smiles and unwavering - even if often annoying - encouragement. Kevin’s refusal to let him give up on life, even in the face of his own fear. Neil’s never-ending respect for his boundaries.

Half an hour of sick sobriety in exchange for a few stopped goals. A bottle of Jack in exchange for a whole game.

Wymack’s second, third, fourth chances.

He met Wymack’s gaze. “I know.”

Because as intolerably cheesy as Coach’s whole “as many chances as it takes” philosophy sounded, Andrew would either be dead or rotting in a jail cell without it. He would have thrown himself to the wolves in order to keep his family safe, and it would have destroyed him. But Coach gave him the back-up he’d gone his entire childhood without. He only took what Andrew was willing to give, held him accountable, and called him on his bullshit, but never tried to fix him.

In a world of people preoccupied with making everyone around them perfect, Wymack said “what you are is good enough.”

Andrew didn’t know if he’d ever be able to bring himself to say thank you, but he could show it. He’d thought it funny to spring Wymack on his teammates and vice-versa, sure. But he’d invited him because he fit the bill.

Andrew might not ever say it, but maybe he could show his gratitude, one hectic weekend at a time.

Wymack seemed to understand.

“Alright.” He said, nodding once, then twice more firmly. “Now how many times can I expect Richard Decker to ask me about fishing?”

Andrew snorted. “Based on his son? It will be the only thing he talks about all dinner.”

Wymack shook his head and gave a little laugh before pocketing his wallet and keycard and gesturing toward the door.

“Well, let’s not keep the man’s sturgeon dreams waiting, then.” He said, earning a dubious expression from the blonde.

He didn’t deign to honor the joking comment with a response, but as they headed towards the elevator, Andrew thought he might have one more nice thing to add to the list.

#aftg #andrew minyard #david wymack #also known as dadmack #dad's trip #ask answered #this is unedited - bc why edit when you could post immediately and then regret your grammatical choices later?#pro exy #professional exy! andrew

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100storiesin2020 · 5 years ago

Text

West Coast Friendship - an AFTG fic

This story was inspired by an Owl City song of the same name. Why mix Owl City and All for the Game? Ask the Muse.

TW: Neil’s past, specifically his mother, her abuse, and the events surrounding her death. Also, nightmares.

****

Neil woke with a gasp.

Heart pounding, he took stock of his surroundings. The apartment was dark, but his eyes were already adjusted. A phone, plugged in, sitting on the coffee table. Two pairs of shoes, resting by the door. A jacket and a hoodie hanging on the wall, looking almost surreal in these early hours. He was on a couch, tucked in under a thick blanket adorned with fox paws. He sighed in relief. This was his and Andrew’s apartment, and he was sleeping on the couch because yesterday had been a bad day. They were comfortable sleeping in the same bed, these days, but occasionally one of their pasts would rear its ugly head. Space was helpful when that happened to Andrew. Unfortunately it was less helpful for Neil.

Neil tried to calm his breathing. He was Neil Josten. He was, and always would be, a Fox. He was a professional Exy player. He lived in Denver, Colorado, and lived with his husband Andrew Minyard. He was twenty-five years old.

This chant wouldn’t stop the memories tonight.

He’d had a nightmare, a montage of memories about his mother. He thought of the way her hair had been difficult to manage, damaged by all the rounds of dye. He thought of her rough hands, her loud voice, her demands that he run and run and never look back.

And the walls were closing in, like the darkness around him.

Neil stood and put on his shoes. A run would help. He grabbed his phone and his wallet, having learned years ago that it was easier to take them with him than it was to fight about it later. Their apartment porch light was very bright and he didn’t want to wake Andrew when he left, so he snuck down the dark metal shape of the rusty fire escape.

The run did not help.

It did reduce the physical urge to move, but it wasn’t enough. Neil continued for miles and miles, trying to stop his mother’s voice chanting /run, Abram, run and don’t look back./ He knew she had been abusive. It had taken him years to recognize it, but he knew it was true. It wasn’t the whole truth, though. She was abusive, and she had been all he had, and he had loved her.

He had broken his promises. He was quite clearly stuck here, held to Denver by contracts and Andrew, unable to run and unwilling to try. If only he had gotten to say goodbye -

He stopped. All he really needed was to say goodbye.

He devised a plan.

An hour later, he was at the airport. He’d bought a one-way ticket on the first flight available, and was going to make it just in time. He had called an Uber and left straight from his 4am run to the airport, not even stopping at home for a change of clothes. He felt an urgency, as if he needed to go now or it would never happen at all.

Neil opened his phone to text Andrew. I’m going to California. He sent the flight details. He thought for a moment, and decided to add Not running. Saying goodbye.

Neil checked the message again just before takeoff. Read at 6:23 am. Andrew hadn’t replied, but he’d gotten the message. There had never been any chance of Andrew coming with him, as much as Neil would have appreciated having him along. There were just too many hard memories in California.

The flight was too short.

Several modes of transportation later, Neil was in a rental car, nearing the beach where he had left his mother behind. Clouds were blowing in from the ocean, and it looked like it may rain. Or it may not. He’d never become familiar with coastal weather. The place snuck up on him, probably because he was approaching from the opposite direction, but there was no mistaking this beach. This was it.

smoke and waves and flames and salty air

He pulled off the road and walked towards the beach. He didn’t know exactly where he’d buried his mother, and there were no signs of where it might have been. Of course, there might not have been any signs by the next morning, thanks to the waves.

Neil sat in the sand and lit a cigarette. It was surreal. He could almost smell the burning car, hear the ripping sound of dried blood -

No. That was not why he had come.

He’d left that moment behind long ago. Right now, it wasn’t about the end. It was about the life before that.

Neil could picture Mary clearly. Her hair had been a light blond, quite beautiful, but he hadn’t seen it that way in years. She had preferred to dye it dark brown, rather muddy, which didn’t suit her skin tone but was admittedly less memorable. She’d always had a fearful manner, but a ruthless one too. It left its mark in her face - the worried lines, the determined expression, a permanent case of what Allison would have called “rbf”.

It was almost as if she was here, just out of sight. Out there over the ocean, where the rain was beginning.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I couldn’t run anymore,” Neil began to say. “I broke my promise to you. It was too hard to go on without you, and I stayed in one place too long.

It was the best decision I ever made.”

Neil paused, watching the rain fall on the ocean. It drifted in closer, blown into shore, but it was light and he had a hoodie. It fit the mood, really.

He continued. “I don’t really believe in a life after this. It’s hard to without believing in God, and no matter what Renee and Nicky say, I can’t believe a God would allow monsters to roam the world as they do. But I had to say goodbye to you.

I’ve let go of what you taught me. I stopped running. I started playing Exy. It gave me something to live for, after you were gone. And it was only the first of many stupid decisions I made.” Neil smirked. “You would have been furious. First it was signing with Kevin, even though he didn’t recognize me. Then it was appearing on TV. Then it was roasting Riko Moriyama himself on TV, and from there it only escalated.” Neil paused, remembering.

“I broke every rule you ever taught me,” he choked. He could see her now, angry and fierce, hand raised to slap him again and again and again and again. “You would be so angry with me. I was angry with myself.” The tears started to fall.

“I failed you, Mom.”

He sat there and cried with only his memories and the waves for company.

Neil had arrived in midmorning, but the sun was nearing the horizon when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It startled him half out of skin. He turned and tackled the person behind him, catching them off guard and pinning them to the sand before he realized who it was.

It was Matt. “Whoa there, Neil,” he said with a laugh. “I guess you didn’t hear me calling your name.”

Neil wiped the last of the tears from his eyes. “Matt??” He asked incredulously. “Why are you here??”

Matt shrugged. “Away game in LA this weekend.”

“But why are you here?”

Matt grinned. “Would you believe that Andrew sent me?” Neil just looked at him in shock. “He said you needed someone and posted your location in the Fox chat.”

“My location.” Neil deadpanned.

Matt scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, yeah,” he said. “Apparently he has a tracking app on your phone in case you get kidnapped again.” Of course he did. “Anyway, I was the closest to you, so I came.” He put his hands on Neil’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m always here for you, Neil.”

It was too much. Neil tackled him again, in a hug this time, and started to cry again. This wasn’t like him, all these tears, but he supposed that he was only now allowing himself to finish the grieving process for his mom. Matt hugged him back, and they stood there for a while.

He may have lost his mother, but he had gained a whole new family because of it. He would never feel alone in their arms.

At this point the tide started to come in, surprising them both when the warm water suddenly washed around their ankles. It felt almost familiar, in a way. Maybe this water remembered him. The evening tide must know the whole ocean side quite well, after all.

Matt ruffled Neil’s hair and stepped back. “Do you feel better now?”

Neil thought, and then nodded slowly. “I’ll be alright now. I came to say goodbye to Mom, once and for all.” He turned back to the ocean, removing his shoes and walking in until the water was up to his knees. Matt stayed on the shore, watching him.

“I failed you,” Neil whispered into the waves. “You died trying to save my life, and I thanked you by breaking all your rules. But I managed something you did not. I /lived./

Father is dead. The Moriyamas own me, but I live life on my own terms. I have a husband, and a family, and I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do.

Thank you for helping me live long enough to get here.

Goodbye, Mom.”

And with that, he turned back to Matt and they started towards the car. “It’s strange to me that Andrew isn’t here.” It wasn’t a question, technically, but Neil wasn’t Andrew. He would answer this.

“There’s a reason for that,” Neil replied with a smirk.

“And that is?”

“Where we are.”

“The beach?”

Neil shook his head. “Not quite. There’s only one place that Andrew will never go. And since he isn’t here, well. I must be in California.”

#all for the game #owl city #fanfiction #writing #neil josten #andrew minyard #tw: death #tw: abuse #matt boyd #aftg #why did I write this? ask the muse #sorry if its a bit clunky in parts #i was trying to use as many phrases from the song as i could

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simonsrosebud · 4 years ago

Text

what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?

(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)

kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.

normally, it’s fine. he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends. but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself. and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer.

“what happened to us being dates? i thought it was unspoken?”

allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder. she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom. “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”

kevin sends her a look. “ew, don’t look at me like that. as if, he’s like a baby to me.” kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off. “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”

and she’s right. later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.

allison: kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome. must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy.

allison: i expect a nominee from each of you. good luck soldiers.

and kevin’s going to kill that girl.

the freshmen don’t answer, of course. all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.

aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens. neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.

kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends. she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet.

matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.

matt: i have a friend named dalton. he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know

kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...

kevin: picture?

matt responds almost instantly. a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop. he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.

is he with him right now?

kevin: maybe.

he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.

an hour later, the door opens. neil comes in first. matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him. kevin sits up.

neil looks at him. in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”

kevin stands, and responds back in french. “you let him in.” neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.

matt nods at him with a smug smile. “do you still have your psych 101 workbook? i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”

kevin frowns. is he not going to introduce his friend? “uh, yeah.” he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.

“oh, this is dalton, by the way. he’s a friend from sophomore year.”

there it is. kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.

dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit. “he’s lying. i was his TA.”

kevin gives a smile. it’s small and faint, and mostly fake. he can’t help it. he doesn’t care for small talk like this. how old does that make dalton?

also, how did matt befriend his TA? kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.

“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.

matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on. “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

kevin’s gonna kill him. he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists. “not yet, no.”

he nods, nudges dalton. “kevin’s on the exy team, too. he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says. “allison, remember allison? she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”

dalton considers it. “that sounds like allison.”

kevin refrains from frowning. “have you met her?”

dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room. it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly. neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.

“once, a month or so ago.”

when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt. “he doesn’t have a date?” matt shakes his head. “is he into guys at all?”

matt glances at him. “yeah, he’s bisexual.”

dalton raises his eyebrows. “um, hello?! why didn’t you set him up with me?!”

matt frowns and shoots his friend a look. “why do you think we just went over?! i took psychology freshman year!”

dalton’s gonna kill him. “but you didn’t say anything about me to him.” matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.

“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”

he crosses his arms. “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”

but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.

kevin: how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?

matt: bc he literally told me so

kevin: fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.

when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.

the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.

dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big. his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low. he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair.

he looks hot.

dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit. he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time. allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.

dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends. but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.

then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.

he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player. after a while, kevin turns to him. “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.” he almost feels bad.

dalton shrugs and smiles. “what if i want to stick by your side?” the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy. “um, i don’t mind, really. i’d feel bad leaving you alone. i’m your date.” he takes a sip of his drink.

“okay.” it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.

“you can even talk exy to me, if you want. i can pretend i know how it works.”

kevin’s heart seizes. “you don’t know exy?”

dalton grins. “i’ve never even seen a game.” he leans closer. “teach me?”

so he does. for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions. and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.

dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.

“you can take that title, instead, though.” his grin is cheeky. kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.

“what about you? what are you?”

“gay,” he shrugs. “not much to it.”

“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”

dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade. “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.” and after a moment. “why, are you okay?”

kevin nods.

dalton doesn’t believe it. and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.

he props his chin in his hand. “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year. my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.” he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s. “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet. he’s known for seven years, now,” he says. “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”

harsh.

“i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really. he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.

but dalton just shrugs a shoulder. “it’s okay. think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.” he cracks a smile. always smiling.

that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are. and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth. he sits back. not here.

dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat. “how’s it going with dalton?”

kevin frowns. “fine, why? did he say something?”

matt’s face is indescribable. “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff. just flirt with him, dude! he obviously likes you.”

yeah right. “i-i don’t think so. he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”

matt drops his head for a second. “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up. he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.” kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side. they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet. he stands. “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.

“we wanna dance. boys?” she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt. matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.

dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist. kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch. just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.

but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.

“i don’t- i can’t dance.”

“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”

when he was belligerently drunk.

“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.

matt slides his gaze to kevin. don’t fuck this up.

he turns. how has his life come to this? “no. i will, if you want to.”

dalton grins, lopsided and happy. “yeah?”

he hopes he doesn’t regret it. “yeah.”

so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan. the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind. there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.

kevin is a terrible dancer. dalton notices it right away and laughs. when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead. just sway a little. nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.

he looks away and falls out of rhythm. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s okay.” dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist. it feels illegal. his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.

is he blacking out right now?

but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing. he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.

he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.

dalton’s fingers dip into his hips. his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.

it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around. the designated dancing spot.

kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.

kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.

no one would notice.

kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck. but someone could.

he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.

he drops his arms. “i need some air.”

dalton let’s go, “are you okay?” but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms. the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.

kevin sinks down on the bench. he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with. opposed to panicking, that is.

that woman is never wrong.

kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem. the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is. if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.

being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things. he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once. the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse. being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.

kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game. him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans. he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.

but he likes dalton.

“hey.”

one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway. “stop running

you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”

kevin frowns. “i don’t care about dancing.”

“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.” they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe. “no one cares. half this team is a little gay, anyway.”

once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed. “are you okay? you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”

kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer.

stop being so afraid of everything.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

he sighs.

dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned. kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.

dalton hums, surprised. after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away. instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.

dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away. “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.

the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.

kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak. he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun. it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.

dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee. he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.

they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring. matt’s calling.

kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.

they’re late.

wymack’s gonna kill him.

kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone. “hey you guys are awake right? coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”

kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him. “yeah, we’re coming.” dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.

they look a mess as they run around. they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags. kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.

at least they brushed their teeth.

dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.

he shrugs. “bed head.”

dalton can’t help but smile. “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley. the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.

dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone. he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.

“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.

dalton leans back against the elevator wall. “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”

kevin smiles, just a little. despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good. he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus. he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.

he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more. he pulls away when the elevator dings.

matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner. he tries to tame it, at least.

kevin and dalton are the last on the bus. kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there. dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.

kevin is on the aisle side. his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh. he doesn’t hate it.

it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto. dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.

“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.

“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.

dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot. kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley. no one anticipated rain.

dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm. kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping. “so are you gonna call me after this?” dalton’s hair is falling wet over his forehead.

he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out. and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.

kevin’s got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.

he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles. “i’ll call you,” he nods. he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.

he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head. kevin looks down at himself. he’s halfway to soaked. not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.

kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.

wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face. “so-“

“no.”

85 notes · View notes

codename-adler · 4 years ago

Text

foxes + onesies (9/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Kevin

every Fox has bad days

some bad days begin with a specific feeling

when Andrew feels ghost hands as he wakes up, when he feels his body too tight for his bones, or hid bones too big for his body

when Neil feels every sound like a knife to his skin, when the scars on his face feel like phantom pains, when he feels a grown man moves too fast, too close to him

when Allison feels jeans cling too much to her thighs, when her shirt brushes too much on her abdomen, when she feels the food she ate resting in her stomach

some bad days begin with a specific date

when it’s the anniversary of Tilda’s death, and Aaron cannot be in the same room as Andrew, no matter how far they’ve come

when it’s the anniversary the Boyds’ divorce, and Matt can’t leave Dan’s side for one second, no matter how strong their relationship is

when it’s the anniversary of Mary’s death, of Evermore, of Nathaniel’s last birthday, of Baltimore, and Neil can’t take a single look at himself in the mirror, no matter how many times Andrew worships his face with his mouth and his fingers

or, when it’s the anniversary of Kayleigh Day’s death, and nobody remembers, not even Wymack, and Kevin is all alone with this grief that is other, unlike any other he carries everyday, unlike anything he can compare to, and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore

Kevin vividly remembers that day, and he sees it luring around the corner as August approaches

but this time, there is no more Riko to worry about, no more mafia to be scared of, no more Ravens to antagonize him, no more Master to punish him for even attempting to grieve every year

and no more alcohol to make him forget

Kevin quit drinking the day they won championship, they day Riko was killed died

it’s been a year and a half, now, and Kevin still wants to drink the minute things get hard mentally

(it’s also been a year and a half since the Foxes started getting onesies, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, and only Allison remembers that summer where it all started)

so when Kevin enters his bad days, his bad weeks, the Foxes are used to his mood swinging back and forth between Queen of Assholery and Feral Fox

but Kevin isn’t

he isn’t used to feeling all of this, to always think, and think, and think, until everything inside his head is as loud as the outside, until it’s all too much

yet he’s still expected to go on

still supposed to function, to perform, to be a decent human being when he’s not even sure he even feels human anymore

and so when Kevin snaps, the Foxes are supposed to be used to it

they’re not

nobody is

it’s summer practice

the 9 Foxes came in early, before the two new recruits arrive

Kevin is in the middle of yelling at Neil, who is very much yelling back at him

there’s that moment very full of testosterone where each of them throw away their gloves and helmets and sticks

they’re an inch from each other’s face and then Kevin suddenly… stops

he completely stops

his face goes blank, his feet move him back, his arms go slack

he looks at Neil, and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could find an answer to a question he doesn’t know he’s asking

Neil, who has never learned to watch his mouth after all the trouble it got him into, keeps tearing into Kevin

Kevin keeps backing up and Neil keeps pushing further

but apart from his backwards movement, Kevin doesn’t react

pure apathy doesn’t suit him nearly as well as it did Andrew

the other Foxes are so silent, that between two of Neil’s breaths, they can all hear him whisper

“Stop.”

but Neil doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t want to

it gets so out of control, even Wymack has to step in, on the court, when he sees Kevin so unresponsive

it gets so bad, eventually Neil, too, stops his yelling and just looks at Kevin

and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could understand the question Kevin is asking an answer for with his pleading, green eyes

“Stop… Just- stop. I can’t- anymore… “

Kevin shakes his head and looks at the floor as hatred and hurt grip his guts

he takes another step back

suddenly he jerks his head back up and looks at Neil

“I hate you. God, I hate all of you.”

he looks at all his Foxes

then leaves

Kevin Day leaves the court

behind his back, he doesn’t see Matt holding back a furious yet teary-eyed Dan

he doesn’t see Renee leaving her goal to join Andrew’s side, her big racquet blocking his way

he doesn’t see Nicky putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezing in empathy

he doesn’t see Allison throwing away her racquet against the plexiglass wall with all that she’s got, fuming and hiding her tears

he doesn’t see Wymack matching over to Neil, a whole speech ready to give Neil his piece of mind

and he certainly doesn’t see Aaron collapsing to the ground, his hands holding his head and gripping his hair, his breaths shallow, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes dry yet red-rimmed

but from behind Kevin’s back, none of them see him either

they can’t see him losing his breath as he starts running away

they can’t see him clenching and unclenching his left hand

and they certainly can’t see him crying

the week that follows is undeniably tense between all the Foxes

that week also coincides with a lot of events

there’s the new Foxes’ arrival

there’s the start of classes

there’s the mandatory psych session with Betsy before Exy season starts

and there’s August 27th

Mom’s accident

Kevin remembers the day vividly, he truly does

he remembers because the week of the accident, he was supposed to start school for the first time, on September 1st

he had picked his outfit for the first day, he had new red Exy-themed shoes, he had even planned the lunch he wanted to have that day in his lunchbox (spaghetti squash casserole. yeah, weird kid.)

on August 27th, Mom didn’t come home

on August 27th, he went to the Moriyama property

on August 27th, he settled into a weirdly well-accommodated room that fit both him and Riko

on September 1st, he woke up with Riko and they prepared for their first day

on September 1st, Kevin wore his planned outfit, put on his red shoes

on September 1st, Kevin did not have spaghetti squash casserole

she left him nothing but an aversion for squash, red shoes, and Exy

which brings us as to why, on August 27th, as all the team is mandated to talk an hour with Betsy Dobson, Kevin Day volunteers to go first (with Aaron volunteering to go second and be the designated driver for the pair)

none of the Foxes have really talked to Kevin since the previous week’s outburst

Kevin has no other outlet for this painful day

it’s either talk to Betsy, or ruin 496 days of sobriety with one vodka bottle

the only words exchanged between Kevin and Aaron, on the drive to Reddin Medical Center, are, surprisingly, from Kevin

“Somebody should get you a new goddamn car.”

he doesn’t elaborate further than that, but Aaron looks at him strangely

his car really is garbage, though

once arrived at their destination, Kevin doesn’t wait for Aaron and bursts in Betsy’s office without warning

it takes at least half an hour of Betsy talking before Kevin gives up his silence

everything was already there, he just had to open his mouth and let his words fall

Kevin: I’ve been sober for 496 days. I’ve been thinking about my Mom’s anniversary for the past few weeks. That’s today, now. And last Friday, I told Neil, then the whole team, that I hated them. Care to unpack that for me?

Betsy: I can help you sort some things out, of course, Kevin. But this is your baggage. I’m afraid I can’t do this without your help. Why don’t you tell me more about this hatred you feel towards your teammates?

Kevin: I dont. Hate them. I don’t… I hate what they do to me. How they treat me. Their double standards. How they forget, how they dismiss. Mind you, I’m well aware of my asshole status. I know I am. But them… they’re… they’re mean. Vicious. They cut and stab and don’t care about what’s underneath. They don’t care that I helped them get the title of Champions. They don’t care that I was there every step of the way, that I was right there beside them when we played the Ravens, when we won. They don’t care that Riko died, that he once broke my hand, that I was legally kidnapped, that I went through hell and still lived to walk on my own two feet. They don’t care that I, too, once had a mom. They don’t care that my Mom died. They don’t care. To them, I’m still just a cunt. It’s unbearable. They don’t give a shit and I’m so, so tired, Betsy. I’m not asking for much. I just want… I want- I want them to let me breathe. I want them to realize that, I’m just like them. I’m a Fox. I’m a Fox as much as they are. I wake up everyday, and feel all this weight on my shoulders, in my stomach, on my heart, but I carry on anyways, and I don’t know why, but I do, just like them. Is that so hard to grasp? Is that so hard to accept? What am I doing wrong, Betsy?

Betsy: Oh, Kevin…

the rest of the session passes in a blur

Kevin talks about how every time he takes a photograph, he thinks of Kayleigh, of how brightly she smiles in all the photos Wymack has of her, of how he wishes he could take pictures of her with his own camera

Kevin talks about how every strong woman in the Irish folklore he reads about wears Kayleigh’s face

Kevin talks about how he thought Thea had been a bit like her, and how, in the end, she hadn’t been at all, she was her own woman, a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love, and how he thought he had lost a bit of Kayleigh again when they separated

Kevin talks

he talks

and Betsy listens

when his time is up, Kevin’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness

he lets Aaron in as he decides to take a run back to Fox Tower

his mind tries to guilt him into going back to the court, but between facing the Foxes after that and isolating himself in his dorm, Kevin knows what’s best for him

he is only disturbed in the late evening, when Wymack enters the dorm

even Neil, Andrew and Nicky hadn’t come back yet

Kevin knows something is wrong

Wymack isn’t supposed to be here

Wymack: Day… Listen, son.

Kevin sits up on his bed

Wymack: Argh, I’ll cut the bullshit. It’s Abby. There’s been an accident. Her car’s fucking scrap metal now. She was brought to the hospital 45 minutes ago, I just got the call. She’s going into surgery. We’ll all visit her in the morning.

Not again

Not Abby

What the fuck is this life?

Wymack: Number Seven wants to see you now. Don’t ask me why, I don’t wanna know. I’ll let her in, don’t make me regret this. Sleep good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.

he opens the door, takes one last look at Kevin’s tense form, and leaves as Allison comes in

she’s wearing her giraffe onesie tied at the waist, with an oversized WALKER 09 t-shirt

she stands in front of Kevin until he looks up at her

Allison: Scoot over. We’re watching The Crown.

and Kevin, dumbfounded, lets her and moves

he finds himself quite intrigued by the storyline, enough to only worry about Abby with his fingers, fiddling with one of the giraffe’s horns

after the third or fourth episode, Allison starts to talk, eyeing Kevin’s fingers playing with her onesie

Allison: Wanna know the latest gossip? Even Andrew has a onesie, now. God, I can’t believe this is a sentence that exists. Andrew Minyard owns a fucking onesie. Do you know what that makes you?

Kevin stays silent, eyes fixed somewhere not quite on Ally’s laptop screen

Allison: That makes you the only Fox without one.

Kevin: Oh, so now I’m a Fox? Didn’t seem that way earlier. Or, like, ever.

the dealer chooses her next words very carefully

Allison: Just because we hadn’t seen it yet, just because we were too busy stuffing our heads up our asses, doesn’t mean you weren’t a Fox… I know, I know. Hard to feel like one when the others give you shit non-stop. Been there, done that. And now I’ve done it to you, too, and I’m… Sorry. We’re dysfunctional, there’s no changing that. But- We can do better. We’ll try, promise. I think you’ve made quite an impression on Betsy today, ‘cause we all received a good talk from her during our sessions. I mean, don’t expect Andrew running in to apologize, but, you know… Something about Betsy turning severe makes you re-evaluate your life choices. We’ll do better, Day.

Kevin looks at her, then

really looks at her

and nods

yet just as he turns his attention back to the screen, Allison leaves the Netflix page and googles “onesie adult”

Kevin: Oh, no. Absolutely not. Nope.

Allison: Oh, yes, yes, yessss!

but then, of course, there’s a knock at the door, and Allison gets up, opens the door, lets the person in, whispers something, and leaves

just like that

and oh

It’s Aaron

Aaron: So… Allison tells me you’re finally getting yourself one of those stupid pajamas too?

Kevin: I am not. What are you doing here anyway? The others will be back soon, I assume.

Aaron: Well, it’s my shift…

Kevin: Your what now?

Aaron: No, it’s not like that! We just… We thought you’d want some space because of… today… But then Abby… We didn’t want you to be alone.

Kevin: Really. Who’s “we”?

Aaron: The proud Palmetto State Foxes’ Exy team. All of them. You know, Dan, Matt, Renee, Allison, Andrew and Neil, Nicky… Me.

once again, Kevin can’t help but stare, deeply surprised

Aaron: Andrew and the others will be back for the whole night, but for now, it’s my turn. I wanted to take the first “watch”, but Allison said she had business to do with you. And I’m not getting in the way of that woman.

Kevin honest-to-God snorts

Kevin: If by “business” she meant bullying me into buying this onesie shit, then you should have gotten in her way. I’m not doing that. It’s fucking dumb.

Aaron: Hey!

Kevin: Aaron Minyard, don’t tell me you’ve participated in this madness…

Aaron: So what if I have? It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I got one. And you don’t. So really, who’s dumb here?

Kevin: What is it??

Aaron: Not telling you.

Kevin: C’mon…

Aaron: Nope. You can’t bribe me. I’m not telling you shit. However, what I can telling you, is that it feels kinda wrong that we all have a pajama and you don’t…

Kevin: Oh my God, fine! What did the others get?

Aaron: Well, besides Ally’s giraffe, we got a tiger, a dinosaur, a teddy bear, you’ve seen Nicky’s unicorn nonsense, and I’m not quite sure about Andrew’s… Oh, and Neil’s is a fox, obviously. That predictable dumbass.

Kevin: Okay, well, I want a fox too.

Aaron: No, Kevin, you can’t.

Kevin: What? Why not!?

Aaron: Because. Neil’s already got a fox. Do you want to be a copycat AND a predictable dumbass?

and so until 1 AM, Kevin and Aaron bicker about each of Kevin’s suggestions (a Palmetto Foxes onesie, a USC Trojans onesie, an Irish-themed onesie, a white fox onesie, a gray fox onesie, and so on…)

when Andrew, Neil and Nicky come back into the dorm, Kevin’s almost laid all the way down on his bed, his head resting on Aaron’s elbow, as Aaron is sitting right next to him, laptop propped on a pillow and his fingers scrolling away

Aaron looks at Andrew, sighs, and looks at Kevin

they nod to each other, before Aaron gets up to go back to his dorm

Kevin sits up correctly when Aaaron is gone and Andrew approaches

Kevin pretends not to notice and googles one more idea, “brown fox onesie”

as he scrolls down and down and down, Andrew looks over his shoulder

and points at one picture

Andrew: That one. Now go to bed. We’re getting up at ass-o’clock tomorrow.

for the third time this evening, Kevin is shocked

he does look at Andrew’s pick attentively, though, and decides to go with it

that night, even if images of Abby covered in blood plague him for at least an hour, Kevin falls asleep to the memory of Aaron’s skin against his cheek, which somehow translates into dreams of Kayleigh resting both her hands on his cheeks as they sit in a field of wildflowers

a couple of weeks later, Kevin doesn’t tell the team his onesie has arrived

but he is forced to admit it when, for Halloween, they organize a huge party for themselves only, where they decided to wear their pajamas as costumes for the night

Kevin feels so stupid in his outfit

he even had to buy a LARGE because he’s so fucking tall

but it still feels… comfy… warm… not so bad…

maybe this can work for him…

it’s only when he steps into the girls’ living room that a problem arises

Aaron: What the fuck is this.

Kevin: Hum… A brown fox? Technically, Neil’s is orange, so you can’t shit on me!

Aaron: That- That’s not a fox, Kevin! What the fuck.

Kevin: Okay, well what are you then?? A mutant mouse?

Aaron: What are you- Oh my God, you don’t know what Pokemons are.

with that, Aaron turns around and yells for his twin

Aaron: ANDREW JOSEPH FUCKING MINYARD. YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU BASTARD.

he storms off yelling

Kevin only reunites with Aaron at the end of the night, on the girls’ balcony, both sober

Kevin: You know, for someone who pushed me so much to do this stupid thing, you’re not being very nice about it. I know you wanted me to be “original” or whatever, but it’s not like I look like Neil! Why are you so upset?

Aaron: Kevin. It’s not a fox.

Kevin: Oh for God sake’s Aaron, you-

Aaron: It’s a Pokemon, Kevin. They’re like little monsters, kind of, and it’s a videogame, but there’s anime, manga, and collectible cards and… I used to- I used to collect those. Before. I lost them, now, but see this? This is one of them. It’s the main Pokemon, actually. His name’s Pikachu.

Kevin: Okay… Who am I, then?

Aaron: You… You’re Eevee.

Kevin: And what’s “Eevee”…?

Aaron: Pikachu’s girlfriend.

and oh.

Oh.

Kevin: Andrew didn’t tell me… The little fucker. I thought- Sorry. I didn’t mean to be another pawn in one of Andrew’s little games. Why did he do that to you?

Aaron: I think you know why.

Kevin looked at Aaron

Aaron looked at Kevin

Kevin: Fuck.

Aaron: Yeah, that.

Kevin: What?

Aaron: Nothing!

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin slowly invaded Aaron’s space until his back touched the railing, and placed one hand on each side of the backliner

Aaron looked up at Kevin

Kevin looked down at Aaron

Kevin: Okay?

Aaron: Okay.

and Kevin grabbed Aaaron by the hoodie of his pajama, and pulled him close, closer, closer, closer, until their lips met, at last

it was a long-awaited kiss, a careful kiss, a kiss of home and yes and oh and warmth and safe

Kevin reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on top of Aaron’s, knowing they have very little time before the other Foxes found them snogging on the balcony like a goddamn cliché

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin: I’m gonna ask you something stupid, and you can’t punch me for it, okay?

Aaron: Fine, okay.

Kevin: Do you want to be the Pikachu… to my Eevee?

Aaron: YOU FUCKING MORON!

and with that, Kevin burst out laughing, as if the Foxes’ attention wasn’t already on them the second Aaron started yelling

Allison and Matt knowingly started whooping with their beers raised for a toast

Dan was facepalming hard, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless

Renee smiled her genuine, angelic smile while clapping Nicky on the back as he choked on his drink

Neil, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with contentment

and Andrew. Andrew had no reaction at all. at all.

he was looking at his nails, no knife in sight, no fucks given

which, in Andrew’s language, meant everything

and so that October 31st was one for the books, the books about the good days, the good feelings, the good memories

because the Foxes had those, too

Kevin Day had good days

Aaron Minyard had good days

Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker had good days

Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd had good days

Nicky Hemmick had good days

Neil Josten had good days

even Andrew Minyard had good days

God knows they deserve them

these onesies, as silly, as stupid, as corny, as childish as they may be, were a proof of that

a proof that the Palmetto State Foxes could be better, could do better, and could get better

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wematch · 5 years ago

Text

The Secret’s Out

Andrew’s team just won the Championship and now he has to attend the gala with a plus one. And to everyone’s surprise he shows up with Neil at his side.

***

A huge thank you for the beta to @tntwme who was kind enough to come to my rescue when I asked for help, all your feedback made all the difference!

You can also read it from the start on [AO3]

***

A few days after Andrew's team won the championship, their coach asks to see the whole team in the stadium. Once everyone sits down in their lounge area, he begins to congratulate the team once more for their victory and then he begins to talk about the gala that will take place Saturday night. He warns them to be on their best behaviour because investors and board members will be attending as well as a few reporters that will cover the event. He continues to speak but at that point Andrew stops listening. He would much rather stay at home than have to go to this stupid thing. When his coach dismisses them his teammates continue to talk about it as they slowly begin to exit.

Andrew gets up to leave and is annoyed when Kayla and Malory stop to chat near the entrance with a few others, half blocking the exit for those that want to leave. Steve stops by his side, waiting for the exit to clear out.

"Who are you going to bring with you?" He asks. Andrew looks to the side at him and merely stares. Steve continues, "You know you have to bring someone, right?"

Steve’s one of the few members of Andrew’s team that he tolerates, but when he begins to talk about anything remotely related to Exy he reminds him of Kevin with all his pestering and the only thing he wants to do is smash his racket on his head to shut him up. But he knows that he is right. He needs a date for this stupid thing, unless coach Lavin tells him otherwise. It was a long shot, but Andrew figures he can try.

He moves past his teammates near the entrance and walks the hallway to Lavin’s office. The door is open so he rests against the doorframe until his coach looks up from the computer. "Let me guess, you don't want to go to the gala." He pauses and when Andrew doesn't respond he continues, "Neither do I. But does it look like I have a choice? No. So neither do you.”

"In that case, can I go alone?"

His coach removes his glasses and starts cleaning them. "Don't ask me why this is a rule. It’s a stupid rule.” He puts the glasses back on. “But no, you need a date. And if you don't have anyone to bring, our PR team can find someone to accompany you."

At that moment, Andrew closes his hands into fists to try and control himself. Most days he doesn’t mind his coach. That’s why he signed the contract for another season just a few days ago, but right now he doesn’t want to look at him anymore. He won’t be forced to go with someone he doesn’t know, contract be damned. “I’ll find someone,” he tells the man and walks out the door towards the parking lot.

Later, when he’s in bed he thinks about asking Renee to come with him. He knows that she wouldn’t mind it. But he ends up calling Neil instead. “Can you come here this weekend?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I need you to bring a suit.”

“Okay?” Neil says unsure. Andrew can imagine him running his hand over his hair at that moment, trying to figure out what’s on Andrew’s mind. “What for?” Neil asks him.

“I need you to be my date for that stupid gala that I have to attend.”

There’s a pause. “Are you serious?”

Andrew takes a deep breath.“Will you do it, or not?”

“You are serious.” After another pause, Neil adds, “Yes, of course I’ll do it.”

***

They arrive late at the party, trying to avoid having to be stuck near the reporters for too long. And it works, everyone is already inside when they arrive so they have a clear path to walk. All eyes turn to them as they walk in but they both focus on walking towards the doors. The journalists start taking pictures and calling their names, and Andrew feels like he can’t breathe until they walk inside and the doors close behind them. Neil grabs his hand and squeezes it so Andrew glances at him by his side. He looks stunning in his suit, and Andrew wants nothing more than to shove him into a corner and kiss that stupid mouth of his.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s get this over with.”

They begin to walk inside and it doesn’t take long for his coach to stop in front of them. “What’s going on here?” Lavin asks, eyes fixed on Neil.

“Is there a problem?” Andrew interjects.

“Am I supposed to believe that you brought him as your date?” His coach asks glancing in Andrew’s direction. Then he glances at their joined hands and looks between the two of them for a moment. “If you didn’t want to talk to the media you picked the worst date, you know that right?” Andrew just stares at the man until the other sighs. “I don’t care what kind of deal this is, just behave.” Then he turns to Neil. “Nice to meet you, Josten,” and walks away from them.

“Your coach seems nice,” Neil comments while they both stare at Lavin’s back as he walks away.

“If you say so.”

“Reminds me of Coach Wymack.”

Andrew hums and they go find their designated seats. All his teammates turn to stare at them when they enter the room and some begin to whisper. He feels Neil tense by his side for a moment which is expected in a room full of strangers, but Andrew’s not concerned about his teammates so he tugs on Neil’s hand to keep him moving.

Jaime, who is sitting in front of Neil starts to speak. “Hey Josten, saw your game last week, sweet goal you did right in the last few seconds!”

“Thanks,” Neil answers. A few others start to talk to Neil about Exy and Andrew zones out, not really bothering to follow the conversation. Neil’s leg is pressed against his and it helps to distract him until the food comes.

Later, when they’re supposed to mingle around the room Andrew stops against a wall and watches everyone else. He keeps coming back to Neil’s back though, as if he was a beacon.

He soon becomes annoyed when he notices one of his teammates watching him. He looks Steve in the eye until he looks away. Then, Andrew returns to look at Neil’s back. Still there, still chatting about Exy safe in the same spot. Good, Andrew thinks. He better not make him run after him in these stupid shoes. It’s been a few years since Neil was kidnapped but Andrew still remembers the sinking feeling when he thought Neil was gone.

Andrew’s distracted when he notices out of the corner of his eye that Steve is walking his way. He decides not to acknowledge him. He’ll go away soon enough that way, but Steve stops at his side leaning against the wall and follows his gaze to where Neil currently is. Andrew won’t ask what he wants. He has seen the curious looks between his teammates through the whole night, it’s pretty obvious that they want to know what’s going on between him and Neil and he supposes that they might have sent Steve since he’s the only one that Andrew has said more than a few words to since he joined the team.

Minutes pass and Steve sighs. “Look man, I just need to ask ok? And I know that you’ll probably not answer,” he pauses, “is this a PR move? Because of all the shit with the media?”

“You could say that,” Andrew says without taking his eyes off Neil, who is still talking to Jaime and a few others.

“Whatever you need to do tonight, just know that the media is about to enter, so If you’re really supposed to be his date just pretend not to hate the guy for the next hour or so,” with that he gives him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s impossible,” he tells Steve and walks away towards Neil.

He stops near him but doesn’t say a word. Neil continues talking to his teammates until Andrew just says “auf der linken Seite.” Neil tenses and casually looks in the direction of the doors to his left where a few reporters are now entering. He notices his teammates looking curious between them but wisely none asks what Andrew had just told Neil.

However, It doesn’t take long for the reporters to spot Neil in the room and come to him. Neil grabs his hand. They don’t do it often, not around other people at least. Neil has a thing for his hands when they’re alone, he likes to trace imaginary lines around his fingers and hold them close to his chest at night, and Andrew won’t say it out loud but he likes the connection to Neil, to know he’s right beside him without having to look to make sure.

He squeezes his hand and slightly pulls him closer to him. He hasn’t told Neil what was his plan for inviting him here today but he’s sure that Neil must have an idea. Two reporters stop in front of them with their cameras behind. Andrew can hear the moment one of them realizes they are holding hands and asks his cameraman to focus his camera on it. He sees Neil roll his eyes beside him and squeezes his hand again.

“Neil, what brings you to the--” the first one begins to ask.

“Is this a confirmation that the two of you are dating?” the second one cuts in.

“Isn’t it clear enough?” Neil retorts. Andrew lets him do the talking and tenses when more reporters come in their direction.

“Well, yes but--”

“Then, there’s your answer.” Neil cuts in and steps closer to Andrew, they’re getting cornered by the reporters and he knows they need to move now before it gets out of hand. He puts a hand on Neil’s neck to ground him, like he has done countless times before and pulls him sideways towards the security already moving in their direction. They quickly make a barrier between them and the journalists and order them to step away. They were never supposed to be interviewing the same subject all at once.

He pulls Neil into the bathroom and after checking that no one else is in there he comes back to where Neil stopped, leaning against the door to block it for everyone else.

“I’m okay,” Neil says, without meeting his eyes.

Andrew steps towards him, feeling pissed. That shouldn’t have happened, and that wasn’t what he had in mind for tonight at all. He puts a hand on Neil’s neck again and tilts his head slightly down until their foreheads are touching. Neither says anything for a moment, and Andrew can feel Neil relax beside him. “Let's get out of here,” he tells him and steps back.

“Too bad we didn’t settle this today,” Neil says with a weak grin before he steps away from the door and opens it.

“There’s always tomorrow.” Andrew comments. They step outside and begin to walk towards the exit. He sees his coach starting to walk in their direction with a grim expression so Andrew brings two fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute that brings him to a stop.

Andrew is not surprised to find two reporters near the doors and continues to walk calmly in their direction. They come to a stop where the reporters are standing and he spares a glance at Neil. He’s tense but he’s looking at the reporters as if they were merely an obstacle between him and the goal that he needs to pass. If he had been on the meds he would have laughed at the uneasy looks the reporters share between them, but as it is, he only stares at the reporters with his blank expression and waits.

It takes them a moment, but then the woman steps towards them. “For over a year you’ve been fighting on social media and during games, so it’s a bit surprising that you came together today. Care to comment?” she asks, shoving a mic into Neil’s face.

Andrew closes his fists in an attempt to control himself. This, their so called rivalry that everyone has been talking about had started when Andrew joined his pro team two years ago. And at first he didn’t care much about it, it was a way to mess with Neil when he was still in college. But now he was just done with the whole thing. All the questions, the theories, the opinions of everyone on the matter was putting them on edge, and it pissed off Andrew to no end. People just needed to leave them the fuck alone.

“What changed?” The other reporter insists.

“Nothing changed,” Neil replies and bats the mic out of his face. Andrew takes that as a cue to pull Neil away from everyone and he doesn’t let go of Neil until they reach the car.

***

As soon as he arrives at practice on Monday morning his coach calls him to his office. Andrew follows him and sits down on the chair in front of his desk. He watches the man as he sits down and turns his pc on.

“Look, I don’t know what you were trying to do on Saturday,” Lavin takes a long sigh and turns his monitor towards Andrew. “But the media didn’t exactly buy it, okay? There’s an even bigger mess on social media because of you two now.”

He rolls his eyes at the title that has a picture of him and Neil leaving the party under it. Are the long time rivals really together? Keep scrolling to read our theories!

“There’s so much shit between the two of you for everyone to just think this was actually real.” He joins his hands and leans forward. “What was your idea with this?”

“It didn’t go as planned,” Andrew concedes. He considers for a second about telling him about Neil but he’s not in a good mood and just wants this day to be over. Andrew gets up. “I’ll take care of it,” he says.

“Andrew, I don’t know how you convinced Josten to do this. But maybe just try to figure something out with the guy, if not we can make the PR team figure something--”

“I said that I'll take care of it,” he interrupts. He turns his back to the man and walks out of his office. He definitely doesn’t need help from the PR team, they’re always trying to give him advice on what to say and what not to do. If he wanted to listen to that shit he could just call Kevin.

***

That afternoon when Andrew gets home, Neil is still there. He had taken the day off and was going back to his team the next morning. Andrew takes his phone from his pocket and contemplates his options. He could let this continue as it is, but he’s tired. They’re both tired from it. He scrolls down his contact list and calls Nicky. He puts the phone on speaker and it rings three times before Nicky picks it up. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Nicky sighs, “Is this because of the whole shit between you and Neil?”

“Yes,” Andrew answers, “I want it to be over,” he explains.

“Okay, what do you need me for?”

Andrew takes a deep breath. The easiest way to end this is for everyone to believe they’ve been together this whole time. “Can you post a few pictures of us or videos that can show that we’ve been together?”

“I don’t have--”

“And don’t say you don’t have anything because I know you do,” Andrew interrupts him.

“Fine I have a few things...Oh! I can’t believe you’re letting me post this! Wait until I tell Erik!” Nicky starts half shouting on the phone and Andrew closes his eyes regretting his decision already.

Neil, hearing Nicky’s voice, walks out of the bedroom and leans against the doorframe. “Allison has some videos too,” he adds loudly so that Nicky can hear him.

“Oh, hey Neil! You staying the week with your not so real boyfriend?” Nicky says and starts laughing.

Neil rolls his eyes. “It’s not funny, Nicky.”

“You have to admit that it is,” Nicky takes a deep breath to calm down.“Hold on a second, I’m going to add Allison to the call so that we can discuss how we’re going to do this.”

And with that, Andrew gets up from the couch and throws the phone at Neil who catches it easily. Neil takes the phone off speaker, grabs his laptop and moves to the bed.

Later that night, they’re in bed when Neil shows him the video compilation that Nicky has made. There’s a lot more footage of him and Neil than he was expecting. He should feel pissed that people were capturing these moments without asking but he can’t. Not when he looks at the idiot lying in bed half on top of him, smiling stupidly at his phone because he’s watching them together.

Andrew remembers every single one of those moments as if it was yesterday; them holding hands in front of Jake just to piss him off more after his fight with Neil; smoking together at Abby’s house after they won a game his last year on the team; Neil staring at where Andrew was standing and Kevin yelling at him to focus on the game and Andrew throwing a ball inches away from his face that made Neil laugh to everyone’s astonishment; Andrew falling asleep on Neil’s shoulder on the bus after an away game. Some pictures with other moments appear between the clips and then the video ends with a photo from Dan’s wedding last year. It had been taken when they were in the balcony, half hidden from everyone. Neil had wanted to catch some air so they went outside, and then Neil had asked Andrew to kiss him, so the picture must have been taken only a second before Andrew did it.

Neil plays the video a second time, occasionally pausing it to ask Andrew what had happened in that exact moment. Andrew answers him and when the video ends again Neil plays it once more and Andrew doesn’t mind.

Neil shares the video on twitter before they go to bed. And as expected the media explodes.

The following day, Andrew is called in again by his coach when he gets to practice. He enters the office and sits down without saying a word.

His coach puts down his coffee and clears his throat. “Well, now that everything is clear between you and Josten. I wanted to ask you something…” He pauses for a moment and rests his hands together on the table.“This conversation cannot leave this room for now, okay? But when I was considering you for this team, I studied the way you played in college and how you played with others and I noticed that you and Josten made one hell of a team, you had your own communication out there.” He pauses to take another sip of his coffee. “Anyway, this is to say that I’m now considering making a proposal for Josten to transfer to our team next season. I assume that that won’t be a problem?”

It takes Andrew completely by surprise. This was not what he was expecting when he was called here. A long moment passes until he says, “Bring him to the team.”

His coach smiles, seeming satisfied with his answer. “Okay, I’ll make him an offer.”

He considers calling Neil when he gets home and giving him a heads up. But ultimately he decides against it. He’ll wait for Neil to tell him the good news himself.

***

Translation: auf der linken Seite - On the left

#myfic #andreil #aftg #tfc #andrew minyard #neil josten #soft #pro exy players

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