-You know how we all lose our shit whenever Neil kisses Andrew’s neck? Now imagine Andrew kissing Neil’s neck.
-It happens the first time when they meet each other after a month of being apart cos of their new team schedules.
-Andrew had been like the sharp edge of a glass the whole time, cutting everyone who annoyed him
-Just cos Neil wasn’t there to dull the edges
-Neil on the other hand was obvs a Mess™
-Like he’s anxious most of the time. The only time he feels right is when he’s on the Court or if he’s talking to Andrew
-They both hate the fact how dependent they’ve become on each other. Hate it more than the plague. They know it’s dangerous. Letting someone in. Letting one person know all your secrets. Missing someone. These kind of feelings aren’t for them. Then why can they not stop thinking about how long they’ve not seen or kissed the other?
-Neil knocks on Andrew’s door after that terrible month.
-Andrew is clothed in black and he’s wearing sweats. Some part of Neil’s heart clenches.
-Andrew is shook™ when he sees Neil but obvs he has a reputation to maintain and just asks, “What are you doing here?”I love my little asshole
-And Neil replies, “I’m not even surprised that’s your first question.”
-And he shoulders past Andrew and enters the flat.
-On the TV a rerun of one of Neil’s matches is going on. Andrew switches it off.
-“What’s wrong?”, Andrew asks. He can’t understand why Neil’s here. Can’t believe why someone would come to see him when they’re not invited.
-But Neil is looking at him with his blue eyes.
-And his eyes are so alive Andrew wants to rip them out so that Neil stops looking at him like that
-And Andrew hates the burst of feeling in his chest
-Wants to carve it out of his fucking chest
-And Neil starts walking towards him
-And Andrew is as still as stone
-And Neil’s hands are threading through his hair “Yes or no?” “Yes.”, Andrew replies.
-And then they’re kissing. It wouldn’t matter if the world was burning but the thing is, their world is burning. Burning with everything unsaid and everything they aren’t feeling
-And Andrew breaks the kiss
-He’s not felt this much in so long
-And his head drops down on Neil’s shoulder
-And Neil’s rests against Andrew’s
-Neil’s neck is right there. So Andrew turns his head by a fraction and touches his lips to it
-And Neil just stops
-Cos this is so much more than they had bargained for. This is crossing boundaries and signing treaties. This is Andrew, a man who fought so hard for this nothing, who would burn the world for the man in front of him, even if it destroys him to the very core, kissing his neck. It wasn’t supposed to be this. But it is bliss.
Allison Reynolds was a bewildering choice for Palmetto State. She looked like a picture-perfect princess, but she could brawl with the best of them on the court. She refused to bend to others’ expectations of her and could be honest to the point of cruelty. She could have inherited her parents’ billion-dollar empire, but she didn’t want the restrictions that life came with. She wanted the right to be her own person. She wanted to prove herself on the court.
instead of andreil how abt some angsty andriel hcs?
Happy 900. Here is the angst, as promised.
It happened, sometimes, on bad days that got worse.
He’d wake up in the morning and feel it like an itch under his skin, like bugs crawling and biting and burrowing so deep that he’d never rid himself of the phantom sensations of them. No matter how hot the water he ran in the shower, how brutally he scrubbed and clawed at his skin.
He felt dirty.
He felt like a lie.
When he first saw his reflection, it would come as a shock. Everything within him would ground to a halt, and there would only be the brutal realisation of who he was, of what had been done to him, of what he had done. He would stand and stare at that reflection for hours, until shapes and lines blurred, and the icy blue of his eyes turned into an empty pit into which he fell and fell and fell.
It was his father’s face.
When Neil smiled, the Butcher smiled back at him.
Andrew would drag him away, put cubes of ice into his hands and squeeze them around it until they burned. He would talk to Neil, random and pointless things, until Neil looked at him and he could see recognition in those empty eyes, instead of that hollow, blank stare.
His hand on the back of Neil’s neck, clutching Neil’s around ice, his voice filling his ears, the smell of him near and constant, it was comforting. It grounded him, enough for thought to penetrate the incessant chorus of liar liar liar cycling ceaselessly through his mind.
“He was my father,” Neil would whisper. “He made me.”
“He isn’t,” Andrew would say, ferocious, insistent. “He didn’t. He was a killer, and you ran away. You are a fox. You are Neil Josten.”
“Then why don’t I feel that way?”
Andrew would grab his face and force him to meet his eyes, would press his thumbs to the scars on Neil’s cheeks and step in close.
“Because you are having a bad day. That doesn’t change anything. You are still the man I gave those keys to, you are still the man who made this team into something worth a damn. You are still the man I told to stay.”
Coming from Andrew, the truth of those words was a lifeline. Neil would cling to it desperately, as he clung to Andrew desperately, and the blond would allow him this comfort. With Neil’s hands fisted into his shirt, his face pressed into the crook of his neck, Andrew would wrap an arm around his shoulder, another in his hair, and Neil would feel grounded and steady. He would feel safe.
The lingering touch of his father would fall away, irrelevant. The smell of burning rubber and metal, the sting of knives and the stench of sticky blood coating his skin would diminish.
Neil is Andrew’s polar opposite, he knows, yet so much of him existsin terrains that Andrew is intimately familiar with. They both know the kind of pain that pushes you to the brink; they both possess the strength to pull themselves back from it, and Neil chose him.
the Foxes mentioned Andrew’s upcoming sobriety or Andrew’s name popped up in
write-ups on the team’s performance at games, the focus was on what a danger he
was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one
said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself.