#my attention span is shorter than a shitstick

[jemej3m]

I know u said u have writers block and ur probably busy and stuff but like. Part 6 radio presenter au ? 🥺 it’s so good I miss it

exactly one month after p.5, here we mfing go

*

Neil woke on Monday morning - the Monday morning - and could hardly contain himself. He still wasn’t used to all the new things in his place and stubbed his toe on the cabinet at the end of his bed, hopping to the bathroom. He kept the temperature of the shower at scalding and washed his hair, unsure why he was rushing. 

He had the evening show. It was nine in the morning. This behaviour was ridiculous and nonsensical at best: If Andrew saw him like this he’d tug on Neil’s hair and tell him he was an imbecile. 

Fuck, the kiss. That was the other thing Neil had been thinking obsessively over. He hadn’t seen Andrew since Friday, when he’d taken him to Home Depot and then carried him to bed when he’d fallen asleep on the couch, because he was an idiot and liked to waste the precious time he and Andrew had together. He’d told Neil to think about the kiss, and Neil had, but it was impossible to figure any of this shit out without actually seeing the man. He’d never felt like this about someone before. His mom would have insisted he was an idiot for being so preoccupied by someone else.

Maybe he was. Fuck it. He’d dealt with enough bullshit in his life: It was about time he found something to appreciate. Dear old Nathan was in prison for life and anyone who was loyal to him were behind bars too. Or dead. Neil didn’t have to do anything except what he wanted to do. 

And yeah, maybe dealing with Kevin dredged up old ghosts, but Neil probably wouldn’t have been able to get a prime-time show without him. 

Not that he’d ever admit it. 

He’d zoned out long enough that he missed the insistent buzzing of his phone as it rang out. He’d missed Andrew’s call. Immediately dialling back, he rose the phone to his ear and wandered out to the kitchen for breakfast. 

“You missed my call.” Andrew said, pointedly. 

“Was a little zoned out.” Neil admitted, measuring grounds for a pot of coffee. “Morning to you too, Andrew.”

The man hummed. “Was just checking you didn’t have an aneurysm due to over-excitement.”

“Can you blame me?” He demanded.

“Yes.” Andrew said. Neil snorted. “Good to know you’re alive. Bye.” 

“Wait -!” Neil hesitated, but Andrew hadn’t hung up. He smiled absently. “See you soon, Andrew.” 

The man merely sighed and hung up. Neil’s lips twisted into a grin and he sipped on his coffee. It tasted like shit, but for once, Neil couldn’t care less.

*

“You’ll do great!” Dan stage-whispered as she filed out of the recording studio, having just finished her 5 o’clock news segment. Neil gave her an appraising look and slid on his headphones. 

Andrew watched him carefully. He must have been buzzing about this all day by the tone of his voice when he’d called Neil earlier, but they’d both arrived half an hour ago and Neil was calm and confident. Ready. It was a good look on him. 

Neil still hadn’t said anything about the kiss. Andrew was happy to ignore it if he was, but he couldn’t shake the memory of Neil curling against his shoulder when Andrew had lifted him to take him to bed. 

He’d get over it. He had no choice.

Neil arched an eyebrow at Andrew’s gaze. Andrew slouched lower into his chair and grunted “Staring,” because he was a massive fucking hypocrite. Andrew didn’t give a shit about all of this, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted by Neil, not now. He couldn’t fuck Neil’s first prime show up. It’s not that he cared. He just couldn’t. 

Wymack signalled the countdown from behind the glass. Neil let his Cheshire grin curl, sparking the warmth in Andrew’s chest. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Junkie.” Andrew scolded. 

Wymack snapped his fingers. “And - you’re live!” 

*

“Andrew,” Neil called out. The man was running down the studio’s stairs as soon as the clock struck eleven, like some fucked up Cinderella. “Andrew?”

He paused only briefly to glance over his shoulder. “Show’s over, Josten.” 

“I’m aware.” He caught up to where Andrew was stood and held out his hand, not touching. “That last song you queued. The Brodie song. That was from when you first called me, wasn’t it?” 

“It’s just a song, Neil.” He crossed his arms: Neil did not shiver when his fingers accidentally brushed over Neil’s chest. 

“When will you admit to yourself that this is something?” He demanded, gesturing around them. The staircase was lined with photographs of various shows and hosts and awards and posters of events. It was an homage to FM-OX that Neil was only a small part of but was willing to explore. 

He just wanted Andrew at his back. 

“It’s nothing to a man who’s not interested.” Andrew’s tone was devoid of inflection but Neil could read the apprehension in his eyes.

“I never said I wasn’t.” Neil accused. They’d barely seen each other since when Andrew had kissed him. Way to jump to conclusions, Neil thought. Asshole. “If you asked, I’d say yes.”

“To keep me complacent for your little radio show?” He snapped. 

Neil felt that like a backhand across his cheek. “Fuck you. I’d never do something against your will. And fuck you for thinking I’d use you just to climb the ladder. You should know me better than that by now.” 

Andrew considered him with an appraising look, scouting down and up again. For what, Neil hadn’t a clue. Whatever he found satisfied him: He dropped his arms from where they were crossed over his chest and walked Neil to the stairwell’s opposing wall: taking Neil’s hands, he pinned them to the handrail that dug into Neil’s hip. 

“I do know you better than that.” He cocked his head, so close that Neil could smell the spearmint nicotine gum he’d been chewing as his eyes glittered. “You never answered my question.” 

Just like the first time he’d called in. 

Neil grinned, recalling his rebuttal. “You never asked one.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Yes or no?”

Neil brushed their lips together in lieu of an answer and Andrew responded by stepping flush to Neil’s chest, kissing back with a ferociousness that Neil expected and was enthralled by. Everything to do with Andrew was thrilling. His hands stayed over Neil’s, pressed into the handrail, but their fingers linked together inexplicably as Andrew kissed him absolutely senseless. 

Neil was breathless by the time Andrew leaned back, eyes fluttering open. His lips curled a little upwards as he leaned to Andrew’s ear and whispered: “Well done. Would you like an award?” 

“I hate you.” Andrew hissed. 

Neil could only grin. “You’re the one who called back.” 

*

taa-daa!