#sorry if they're ooc technically its like a few years post college

[jemej3m]

part 2 to the assassin au! here’s p1 <<<333

warnings for panic attacks and neil plotting to kill kevin lol

*

Neil slid into the booth opposite a nondescript man reading the newspaper in his business suit, briefcase by his feet. That briefcase would hold only a gun and the list of Neil’s wrongdoings. He folded the newspaper down in favour of looking to Neil with a blank expression.

Ichirou was not pleased. And it did not do well to displease a Moriyama.

“Kevin Day is alive.”

“Yes.” Neil agreed.

“My father is dying.” Ichirou hissed. “The title of Lord will be passed down to me in a matter of months. I cannot risk such a liability, Nathaniel.”

Neil winced. “It is proving more difficult than anticipated. He has surrounded himself with vigilant protection at all times. I need more time.”

“Do not forget your place, Wesninski.” Ichirou snapped. “Get out of my sight.”

Neil didn’t need to be told twice and did just that.

He felt as though he was holding his breath all the way until he’d arrived back at his apartment. His hands fumbled for the keys, teeth grinding as he tried to unlock his door.

“Josten,” Came a familiar voice. Neil glanced over his shoulder. Andrew had a slight furrow between his brow, dressed casually with black frames balanced on his nose. “Are you alright?” Neil didn’t know Minyard wore glasses.

Concern.

“Quite fine.” Neil answered, shoving his key into the lock. “Just regretting every decision I’ve ever made that landed me in the position I’m in today.”

“Sounds fine.” Andrew answered.

Neil just shook his head, opening the door.

“Josten -” Minyard hesitated. Neil looked back at him: He scowled. “For fuck’s sake. Just come in.”

That was how Neil found himself sitting on Andrew’s couch, the knitting throw over his knees with a cup of herbal tea.

“You didn’t strike me as a tea drinker.” Neil offered, as Andrew sat down on a beanbag. They were all adults here.

“Kevin gets stressed.” He muttered, sipping on his own mug. Steam rose and fogged his glasses.

“I’ve never seen you wear frames before.” Neil noted. “Do you wear contacts usually?”

“I need them to see, Josten, so yes. It doesn’t bode well for a bodyguard to have a physical ailment that can be exploited.”

No, thought Neil, plans ticking over in his mind. It doesn’t.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like I’m some alien, or are you going to explain why you’re on the verge of a panic attack?”

Neil blinked. “What? No, I’m fine.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure you know what that means.”

“Just some altercations at -” Neil smiled hesitantly. “At work.”

Andrew settled further into his beanbag, watching Neil over the rim of his glasses. Why did Neil feel like Andrew could see right through him? Why did he feel so vulnerable? There was no way this man could know anything about who he truly was, not when he was so careful. 

Neil should get rid of him too. He was probably just as much of a liability to Ichirou’s position as Kevin was: The two had been friends since college, since Kevin had run from Riko in the first place. 

Neil had to get rid of Andrew. He had to. I don’t have a choice. I don’t have a choice. 

The mug clattered onto the floor, hot tea seeping into his shoes and the handle shattering upon impact. 

“I -” Neil leapt to his feet, horrified at his loss of composure. Neil had killed before. What was another man and his bodyguard? What had changed? “I’m sorry, I -” 

Andrew wasn’t pleased. “Relax. Go home and fucking - take a bath, or something. You need to chill out.” 

Neil nodded weakly, wrapping his arms around his waist and rushing for the door. He couldn’t look back at the other man. It was the understanding that he offered in the corner of his eye. He wasn’t disgusted by Neil’s scars. He wasn’t put-off by Neil’s seemingly unfavourable job. He kept coming onto the balcony, time and time again, sharing quiet moments alongside Neil and answering Neil’s questions whilst offering his own questions in return. 

Neil had posed as someone else to grow intimate enough with someone’s situation to kill them cleanly plenty of times. He’d just never gotten so...

Attached. 

He slammed his fists onto the tiles of his shower. For a moment he saw blood pooling in his fists, the way that it tended to rest when he washed himself off from returning from a job.

This couldn’t last. He wouldn’t let it. 

*

“My father was killed in prison.” Neil said, looking out to the sunrise as it blessed the easterly planes of New York City’s sky-rises. “So why the fuck does his ghost still haunt me?”

Andrew took a drag of his smoke. “Attempting to control your own mind will result in you running in circles.” 

“I wanted him dead for so long.” He muttered. “But now that he is, I don’t know what to do with myself.” 

Andrew could understand that. When Aaron bashed Drake’s skull in, when Andrew strangled Proust, it was a moment of clarity: He would forever be free from the horrors they brought with them. 

But with their departure came an open space, ready to be occupied by the next man who would try and take advantage of Andrew’s vulnerabilities. 

“I killed the man who abused me whilst I was in rehab. I’m subconsciously waiting for someone to come and take his place, like it’s a job opening.” He flicked his cigarette butt over the railing. “There’s no reason why we think and behave the way we do. It’s just ingrained into us.”

He could feel Neil looking at him, gaze drilling into his cheek. He turned his head slowly, meeting Neil’s gaze. 

It wasn’t pity. Or fear. It was just pure, unadulterated understanding. 

The weight pressing onto Andrew’s chest eased, just a little bit. 

*

Andrew was growing hedgier. Kevin and Thea’s wedding was fast approaching, and the needless press and public appearances had his head spinning. He wasn’t even the one being interviewed. 

He was still no closer to figuring out who’d been in their apartment, and how, but Andrew would sleep with one eye open until he’d resolved this mess. He was sure someone was on their tail. Betsy insisted he was being overly paranoid, and demonstrated it was proof that he take some form of break from watching over Kevin, but it wasn’t like Andrew could up and leave. He’d come back and Kevin would be half-pulled into a drain with both of his hands run over by military tanks. 

He worked grooves into the carpets. He’d set up cameras around the flat and building that only he had access to and controlled all the access points. It didn’t make him sleep any easier. He wanted to move houses. Kevin thought he was crazy. 

Andrew knew he wasn’t crazy. He was perceptive, not crazy. 

So, whilst he was pissed off about it, he wasn’t surprised when he got the call.

“You’re going to keep Day in his apartment. You’re not going to call the police. Do as I say and no one gets hurt.” 

Andrew ground his teeth. There was only one party who could be responsible for this, and where the Moriyamas were involved, someone always got hurt. 

Andrew kept Kevin in his room, walking out onto the balcony. With the three-foot gap between their railings, it was easy to chuck a pen around the corner to Neil’s sliding doors. 

The man appeared, bemused and probably tired from a long Friday evening. “Andrew?”

Andrew hated him. Hated the quick to his eyebrows that Andrew noticed when Neil looked at him. “Look after Day. I’m going to hideout for this freaky fucking stalker.”

Neil blinked. “Did I miss something?”

“Weird shit around the place.” Andrew said dismissively. “Always." 

“You’re going to have provide me some context, Minyard.” Neil challenged, crossing his arms. 

Andrew grit his teeth and looked at the man. Why he trusted Neil was beyond him. He was still not sick of Neil’s inquisitive gaze: He wasn’t bored by his careful questions. Neil had traded quiet truths about hating his work and predispositions set by his family over cigarettes and mugs of coffee. Andrew knew he liked fruit and going for jogs and Exy. Neil, in return, knew Andrew had an awful sweet-tooth, a deliberating fear of heights, knife sheaths in his armbands, and that Andrew had gone to prison when he was younger.

Small, banal things, shared like golden artefacts between hesitant hands. 

And yeah, the sexual attraction had been foremost and obvious, but it had dulled into something else. Something Andrew didn’t really understand. He wanted to kiss the slight frown off his lips and see if his curls would really fall through his fingers like he dreamed they would. 

No, he thought. That was not a productive line of thinking. 

“Kevin is in danger.” He said lowly. “Keep him in your flat. Watch over him.”

Neil nodded. 

“Give me your number.” 

“This isn’t how I imagined you asking me for my details, but I’ll take what I’ll get.” Neil grinned softly. 

Andrew knew his ears were going red for no god-damned reason. He simply served Neil a flat glare and left him standing on the balcony. 

“Climb from our balcony to Neil’s. You’ll hide in there until this blows over.” Andrew said, re-tying his shoelaces and checking his knives were in their sheaths. 

Kevin sent him a startled look. “Who’s Neil?”

Andrew ground his teeth. “Next door neighbour.” 

“Thea -” 

“I’ll text her. Leave your phone with me: They could be tracking it.”

He supervised Kevin clambering across between the two railings with a slight race to his heart rate. Neil knew and understood, putting out his hands. 

“It’ll be alright.” Neil said quietly. “I’ve got him. Go do what you need to do.”

Andrew nodded. He supposed thanks would be in order, but he wasn’t a thankful guy, and Neil didn’t strike him as someone who needed verbal cues to understand. 

He crouched on the inside of Kevin’s room, right by the door with a knife at the ready. 

Sure enough, heavy footsteps echoed around the apartment. Andrew held his breath, taking out his phone. 

new message to: neil 

someone’s in the apartment. 

from: neil 

where are you?

to: neil 

in kevin’s room. waiting for them to come in so i can subdue them. 

from: neil

i could take kevin away whilst they’re in the apartment. they wont be keeping an eye on cameras and i’ll disguise kevin to avoid any backup around place. 

Andrew frowned.

to: neil

and if you’re attacked? 

from: neil 

i know you’ve seen the scars. i’m more well versed with this kind of stuff than you think.

Andrew pursed his lips. Neil’s multi-faceted nature had him going in circles, time and time again. He was unsolvable. Having Kevin out of the building would be optimal, but it would require Andrew placing a hell of a lot of trust in Neil. Trust he wouldn’t allow on anyone other than himself. 

to: neil

you’d better make sure he stays in one piece. 

from: neil

on it. 

Andrew breathed a little easier, pocketing his phone. 

The footsteps continued. He heard his bedroom door be tested: The attacker obviously tried to pick his lock and was unable to. It was an electronic deadbolt that Andrew could control from the outside on the one and only remote. 

Andrew took a deep breath and stood at the ready. 

The footsteps didn’t even approach Kevin’s bedroom, turning away immediately and continuing back to the living room. 

Odd. They surely would check the room of their desired victim to see if he was there. After a few moments of quiet, Andrew slowly unlocked the door. Element of surprise be damned: He’d fucking get this person if it was the last thing he did. He had a promise to Kevin. He’d fulfill it. 

There was no one there. They must have slipped out of the front door, silently, as Andrew slipped out of Kevin’s room. Andrew lowered his knife and grit his teeth. What was this fucker’s game? 

He pulled out his phone. Neil had texted him. 

from: neil 

nothing encountered on the way to the garage. driving now. will text you when secure. 

He didn’t want to text Neil to tell him to come back if that was what the assailant was waiting for. Instead, he rummaged for Kevin’s phone and made a call. 

“Hello?” Jean’s voice was familiar. He hadn’t escaped the Moriyamas for years after Kevin had, being inducted into the main branch after Ichirou murdered Riko. He’d worked out of his debt, becoming a coveted Exy star in southern California. Andrew hadn’t spoken to him in years, but it was the only man who’d been exposed to the inner working of the Moriyamas. 

“Someone is trying to kill Kevin. What do you know?”

“I haven’t been involved in you-know-who’s business in years, Andrew.” Jean countered. 

“You still know more than we do.” Andrew countered. “Why now?”

Jean was quiet for a moment. It sounded like he was getting out of bed, walking into an adjacent room. His voice was low, the French accent pronounced when he talked this fast. 

“Kengo is dying. Illness that they just can’t resolve. Ichirou would be eliminating any loose ends in anticipation of the change-over.”

Andrew grit his teeth. “Who would he send?”

“I can only think of one man.” Jean mused. “He has a highly trained assassin who takes care of such public and convoluted matters. I met him once and it was enough. That was after years of working with the main family.”

Andrew waited for Jean to continue. It took Jean a moment. 

“Nathaniel Wesninski, is his name.” He said, voice so quiet it was difficult to hear. “Kengo’s Butcher had a son, who became Ichirou’s most powerful weapon.”

“What does he look like?”

“He’s unmissable, really. Not great for an assassin. Short, red curls, blue eyes. He always wears clothes to cover the markings left by his father, but his scars are truly awful. Some are even visible through shirts pale or tight enough.”

Andrew’s stomach bottomed out. He hung up on Jean and closed his eyes. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t tell Neil he knew who he was. He had to find them before Neil could slit Kevin’s throat and dispose of his body so thoroughly that he’d never be found again. Andrew had made an enormous mistake in trusting that man: It was the least he could do to get Kevin out of his own mistakes. 

to: neil 

still driving? 

from: neil

secure now. got the guy?

Andrew shook his head. 

to: neil 

yeah. police are coming now. i’m on my way. 

from: neil

right. good. see you soon. 

Andrew needed to find out where this signal was coming from and fast. He was running against a clock that had ticked into over-time eons ago. In the midst of uploading the IP address into a program on his laptop, his phone began ringing. 

Renee. 

“Why is Jean telling me to keep an eye on you, Andrew? What have you done?”

Andrew ground his teeth together. His jaw ached with the tension in his neck. “I may or may not have let Kevin go galavanting off with an assassin charged to kill him. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, good lord.” Renee murmured. “I’m - nowhere near you. How can I help?”

“I’ll handle it.” He insisted. 

He heard Renee’s sad smile over the phone-line and wished she were here to spar with him. He really needed to punch something. “Whoever claims you’re heartless is a jealous liar. Call me soon, alright? Be careful.”

He hung up on her. He didn’t need her self-love preaching bullshit. He needed to concentrate. 

A signal rung out from fifteen minutes ago, pinging a tower in the industrial sector of upper New York. It was too close to the rich estates of business tycoons that Andrew knew housed the Moriyamas for his liking, so he collected his coat and car keys. 

His phone began to ring. neil flashed across the top of his screen and he gripped the phone, anger rippling across his skin in hot flashes. 

He hated being taken advantage of. This was exactly why trust never came easily to him, and he should have fucking known better. 

He answered the phone and grit out “You’d better have a good explanation for this, Wesninski.”

“Andrew,” Kevin breathed. “It’s me. It’s me. I’m fine. I’m alive.”

Andrew covered his eyes with his hand. “Where are you? What’s happening?”

“Neil drove me to this warehouse and cuffed me to a pipe in the corner before I could fight him. Then he looked at me for like five minutes, yelled fuck at the top of his voice and threw a tarp over me and told me not to move or he’d shoot me. I heard voices and cars and gunshots: When everything was quiet I threw the tarp off. Neil is gone, but a bunch of men are bleeding out here. Moriyama men. They’ve got M’s on their knuckles, I - I think Neil’s gone rogue or something.” 

Andrew let out a muffled sigh of relief. “Stay where you are. Hide under the tarp. I’m coming.”

*

Kevin and Thea sat to Andrew’s right. They all perched on the edge of the couch, watching the news. 

“Business man Kengo Moriyama died this morning before police could glean a statement regarding his son’s involvement in the mass shooting at a Moriyama leased warehouse on the outskirts of New York City two months ago. FBI’s Chief Wymack and his team have found evidence of premeditated murders at Ichirou’s hand, including that of the supposed suicide of his brother Riko Moriyama approximately seven years ago. Encrypted video evidence has been provided from anonymous sources that police refuse to disclose. Ichirou Moriyama and many of his closest affiliates are in custody, charged with extortion, theft, tax-evasion and money laundering, involvement in trafficking circles and many cold homicide and disappearance cases.

More has been uncovered about the Moriyama business, including that of Nathan Wesninski’s true identity as Baltimore’s infamous serial killer, the Butcher, with evidence showing that Wesninski and Moriyama were heavily involved business partners...”

“Turn this shit off.” Thea muttered, nudging Kevin’s shoulder. 

Kevin sighed, rubbing his eye. “I just can’t believe they’ve been so neatly backed into a corner. I never thought they’d be successfully prosecuted.”

“There’s no way they’re getting out of this, now.” Thea reminisced. “Someone pretty close to Ichirou must have turned over a new leaf.” 

Andrew said nothing, keeping his hands clasped together over his mouth. 

Kevin looked at him and sighed. Andrew still hadn’t forgiven himself over the Neil/Nathaniel mess and anything to do with the Moriyamas lured him into a quiet, volatile state of mind. “I’ll get Indian takeout.” 

Thea answered the door forty minutes later, and a familiar voice echoed from the hallway. Andrew was on his feet in an instant. 

Neil looked a little sheepish. There was an enormous scar curving from his eye down to his jaw and burns covering his other cheek in a careless pattern. He held out the food.

“Beef and chicken korma?” 

“What the fuck do you want?” Andrew asked, brandishing his knife. Thea looked between them, baffled. “Did you kill the take out guy?”

Neil shrugged. “I’ve been granted immunity by the FBI. Only took six weeks and needless wading through bureaucracy, but I’m free now. And no, I didn’t kill the take out guy.”

“I’m going to leave,” Thea murmured, taking the take-out from Neil’s hands and shuffling further inside. 

“Why are you here?” Andrew stepped closer, holding the knife closer to Neil’s throat. “You should have known better than to show your face after everything.”

Neil put up his hands. “I know. But I didn’t actually kill him, did I?”

“Congratulations.” Andrew snapped, sour. “Would you like a fucking sticker? A certificate?”

Neil’s lips quirked into a sad smile. “I grew too attached. The idea of hurting him - or you - was intolerable. I’m a terrible assassin, I know. I just wanted to make sure you’re all okay. I’m sure I’ve helped the FBI lock up all the potential Moriyama trouble-makers, but I’m forever paranoid.”

Andrew looked at him.

He shrugged awkwardly. “Seems like you’re fine. I’d best get going.”

He turned around and took a few steps towards the elevator. 

“Wesninski,” Andrew called, against his better judgment. 

Neil winced. “I changed my name. Legally. It’s Neil Josten, now.” 

“Josten.” He amended. “Come in for dinner.”

Neil looked at him, unsure. “Kevin won’t shit himself?”

Andrew shrugged. “It’ll be amusing.” 

Neil looked at his feet before letting himself smile, just a little bit. Andrew still wanted to kiss it off his lips. 

“Make the wrong move and I’ll kill you.” Andrew murmured into Neil’s ear as he stepped through the threshold of Andrew’s apartment. 

“Undoubtedly.” Neil said easily. “I’d let you.”

“Idiot.” Andrew growled. 

The glitter returned to Josten’s eye, and Andrew decided then and there: It was a terrible decision, and Josten was a terrible man, but their jagged edges fit together without unsure gaps and abrasive overlaps. 

“Did I read your cues wrong, or do you actually want to kiss me? Because I can understand why you’d be a little conflicted, and I was never sure if I was projecting my own confusion and doubt onto you and hoping you felt the same -”

Andrew shoved a kiss against the corner of Neil’s lips, pulling back just as quickly as he’d leaned forward and surveying Neil’s old t-shirt and ratty jeans with distaste. “You truly are bad at your job.”

Neil grinned. 

*

(why did i write 6k for this stupid idea lmao its such a mess)