tfc fic

prompt response to: andreil trapped in a small space scenario

As much as all these late night practices aided Neil in strengthening his form, some nights he felt so incredibly drained of energy that by the end of them he almost cursed his own resolve. 

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this is my @aftgexchange gift for @sirandking i’m not sure if this is quite what u were hoping for n it’s messy but idk i kinda like it 

tw for mentions of alcohol as a coping mechanism, as well as super brief blink-and-you-miss-it mentions of riko, drugs and self-harm

ao3 link

“That sweater is new,” Kevin comments as he seats himself in the beanbag next to Andrew’s, passing over a mug of coffee as he does so. It’s a small, meaningless comment - the kind of small talk they both collectively despise - but it’s something, and since the death of Riko, Kevin’s found that there are not really any other threads connecting the two of them. Silence has panned out between them for weeks. He tells himself he’s irritated by it because it’s bad for the team’s dynamics - a rapport with your teammates is essential for a successful team. He won’t admit that Andrew is probably the closest thing to a friend Kevin has around here, except for maybe Neil.

He doesn’t expect his comment to be dignified with a response; he knows Andrew well enough to know to expect perhaps a nod of acknowledgement, or a stony look his way, questioning and judging his observation. Nevertheless, the silence makes him ever-so-slightly self-conscious, so as his eyes catch the way the sleeves fall over Andrew’s hands, he tacks on a lousy “–and too big for you.”

Andrew Minyard has always been best at defying expectations.

“It’s not mine,” he responds coolly, devoid of emotion or even acknowledgment, eyes still trained on the contents of his mug as he mutters, as though talking to no one.

It’s an easy enough admittance, casual and shameless, yet it still manages to leave Kevin embarrassingly taken aback. He knows, realistically, that he probably has the best insight into the relationship between Andrew and Neil than any other outsider, however he’s still never quite got it. The logical part of his brain tells him it shouldn’t work - two people both so shattered and fiery, like shards of broken glass, in such close proximity can only end in further shattering, as far as he’s aware. And flames. It’s concerning, something with so much power, with so many sparks - just one wrong move could become a savage wildfire that burns his team down to nothing more than ashes. It’s risky and dangerous and stupid and he hates it, is terrified of it, but this admittance that comes so easily changes something in him.

Because something about the idea of Andrew Minyard curled into a beanbag with a cup of coffee and his boyfriend ’s (and isn’t that in itself another unexpected and ever-so-slightly strange thing to wrap his head around) sweater on feels less like untamed sparks and more like a candle light. And that’s much more soothing than terrifying, even if it is still a little strange to him.  

Perhaps trying to understand this would be a good idea, he concludes. So he asks “When did all this start for you anyway?” waving a hand conspiratorially to punctuate the question. And this time he’s almost convinced he’ll be ignored, or delivered a vague, meaningless answer as a result of the unspecific question, but the furrow of Andrew’s brow as he lifts his gaze up to Kevin’s tells him otherwise. It’s a strange, uncharted territory.


“You liked him before then,” Kevin suddenly finds himself accusing before he can stop himself, still processing this new information, whilst considering every sign he could remember, the most poignant being the way Andrew did things for nobody but Neil. Could only have his arm twisted by Neil. Had always drifted towards Neil, had never raised a knife to Neil, had always been straight with admittances to Neil; Neil, Neil, Neil was the exception to every rule of the Andrew Minyard handbook, the one Kevin had studied meticulously and still never found a loophole in. He finds himself itching to know more.

“I hate him.” Andrew deadpans, a reflex at this point, and if Kevin was anyone else, he’d have furrowed his brow, wrinkled up his nose, frowned and found himself reprimanding Andrew, but he’s not anyone else, so he smirks instead, because he thinks he’s finally starting to understand how Andrew works, and this kind of understanding is as scintillating as it is spine-chilling, like watching a horror film, driving past a car crash or finding a spider in your room - the kind of fear that keeps you captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from it even when you know it’s awful, and you shouldn’t, and if this is what Andrew feels around Neil, no wonder he hates him. Andrew has never enjoyed feeling, as far as Kevin knows, and something so intense and contradictory, something that can’t be calculated and analysed can only be devastating.

The words “I know,” feel foreign and awkward on his tongue, his body tense as they slip out and it all multiplies when Andrew’s blank stare shifts from the mug he warms his hands on to Kevin’s face. “Why him?” he eggs on, trying to coax something out of Andrew, whether it be more answers and information, something to help him understand, or just a reaction, something to put the world back in order and dissolve the itchy curiosity and mere residue of fear that has settled on his skin.

Andrew ignores it entirely. “You’ve reached your daily quota of questions you can ask me for free.” He pauses, as though considering something for a moment, before finally deciding against whatever it is and dismissing Kevin with a curt “You can go now.”

Kevin goes.

The next time Kevin sees Andrew, it’s because he’s paused the exy game on his laptop and emerged from his room for the first time in hours after smelling something divine. He is greeted with the sight of an unholy amount of Indian food scattered across the table, and isn’t sure whether he wants to kiss Andrew (if he was not in a relationship, if Andrew was not in a relationship, if either of them were in any way attracted to each other and if he had a death wish - none of which are even remotely true) or kill him, because really , this is not how future professional athletes should eat, but he can hear Jean’s voice in his head telling him to relax, to loosen the tight leash of control he has over his life in order for total success, thus he reluctantly picks up the spare fork left on the side and a tub of something orange, before sitting on the other end of

the sofa to Andrew.

“Nicky and Aaron will be here soon,” Andrew states at the exact same time that Kevin asks “Where’s Neil?”, changing his course of action to start Kevin down instead.

There’s a handful of new mottled bruises adorning his face from who knows where, and a nasty looking cut beneath his eye that he’s certain Aaron will fuss over later, much to Andrew’s dismay, and for a moment he considers asking if he’s okay,  before swiftly realising what a stupid idea that is and dismissing it completely as Andrew opens his mouth again.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“I know.” Again. Andrew sighs.

“Did I or did I not tell you that you have asked as many free questions as you are permitted to today?” This time, as Andrew snaps, Kevin hears it.

“Free?” he asks around a mouthful of rice, swallowing hastily before he continues. “So if I give you something, I can ask more?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Andrew grants him a small nod anyway. “Neil and I have - had - a thing.” Kevin agonisingly anticipates his next words as Andrew scoops up another mouthful of food. Static silence stretches out between them until he swallows again. “Truth for truth. For everything you ask me, I ask you something.”


“It’s my turn.” His gaze shoots skywards, face contorting in mock-thought. “Why are you so interested?”


He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?” is punctuated with a sigh. “Me and Neil.”

“I don’t understand it,” is all Kevin replies, because, really, he’s not all too sure.

“Understand what?”

“Any of it. It’s a lot to process.” Andrew nods as Kevin finishes, despite the answer being indisputably lame.

“It’s your turn.”

“Why him?” falls out of Kevin’s mouth again like a reflex. He watches as Andrew’s blank expression twitches and his eyes shut for a second in something akin to stoicism.

“He’s interesting.” Kevin knows how much that means from a perpetually bored man.

“He’s kind of messed up,” he replies hesitantly, though there’s really no “kind of,” - there’s not doubt that Neil’s messed up - and he isn’t sure whether his words are a challenge or a disagreement.

There’s something almost wistful in Andrew’s eyes. “Exactly.”

Kevin gets that, too. The reason things have always worked with Thea, even when others told him, told both of them , that they shouldn’t, is because she always got it. She knew what it was like to be a Raven, she knew the complicated relationship he had with Riko and the Moriyamas, she never judged, never told him his reactions were gratuitous or invalid, she just understood .

Understanding, true understanding, is unparalleled in rarity, and perhaps the most coveted trait of all.

“Why alcohol?” interrupts Kevin from his thoughts, and it takes him a moment longer than it should to process that it’s Andrew’s turn again.

“What?” Kevin asks, wrinkling up his face.

“You could have any coping mechanism you wanted: drugs, self-harm, running yourself to the bone, food addiction, therapy, adult colouring books…” he lists off, his eyes infinitesimally lighter than usual, and Kevin resists the urge to roll his eyes, because of course the only person who can amuse Andrew Minyard is Andrew Minyard. “Why alcohol?” he repeats.

“It’s the only thing that can make me forget.”

“There are drugs that could do that much easier,” Andrew replies, but there are lines in his forehead as he tacks on “probably.”

“After Seth and Aaron,” Kevin responds cautiously, “and you – cracker dust is the worst I swore I’d ever do. And that–” he pauses again, mind casting him back to nights at Eden, panic attacks in toilet stalls and the burn in his throat that leaves his brain null and void of all things Evermore. “–It’s not enough on its own.”

“It’s weak. And unhealthy.”

“I know.” He replies, and there’s something cold and cumbersome building up at the pit of his stomach as the topic is stretched out like an elastic band, millimetres away from snapping or closing back in on itself, so he tries his hardest not to trip over words as they stumble out of his mouth. “It’s my turn again. How does it work - you and him - after everything? Your past. How do you–”

“No.” Andrew cuts him off, fists clenching tighter around the cutlery in his hands. “You don’t get to ask that. Something else.”

Kevin doesn’t say sorry, but his face does, even if there’s something about pulling a reaction out of Andrew that sets his nerves on fire. “What are you scared of?”

Andrew blinks at him once, empty composure regained. “Heights.”

Kevin’s face wrinkles up. How can a man who has spent so long mocking Kevin for his fears of the Moriyamas, of the Ravens, of death , be afraid of something so trivial, something that is a fear of death, in a way, in itself. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of death.”

“I’m not.” Andrew replies, a hint of a sneer on his face as he adds “And I hate that word.”

“Afraid?” Kevin asks, shrugging when Andrew nods. “If you’re not afraid of death, what is it about heights that you’re scared of?”

“Falling.” Andrew replies hollowly, and Kevin’s about to ask more, about to ask about how he can go to a rooftop so often with Neil - does Neil know? - when the conversation is interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, and the two boys shift around just in time to watch a drenched Neil, looking like he’s just taken a fully-clothed shower, stumble through the door, flanked by Dan and Allison, both also varying levels of waterlogged.

As the girls immediately make their way over to the excess of food lying on the table, eyes wide and begging Andrew and Kevin to let them have some, Neil slides effortlessly into the space between them and turns to Andrew, who tentatively reaches out towards him and ruffles a hand through his hair, watching as Neil slides his soiled jacket off and finally wiping his now wet hand on Neil’s shirt to dry it.

The sides of Neil’s mouth twitch and Kevin battles with the urge to turn away, to leave.

“There’s enough food there to feed a small army,” Neil mutters, low enough that the words were really meant only for Andrew, and softer than Kevin’s ever heard. It’s more than slightly disconcerting.

“You’re a small army,” Andrew retorts, only Neil must be hearing something else completely in that, because next thing he knows, Neil’s turned around to face the girls who are still fawning over the makeshift banquet.

“Invite the rest of the team and you can help yourselves,” he states, watching with eyes showing something reminiscent of fondness as Allison immediately pulls her phone out and Dan digs through their drawers for extra cutlery.

Neil turns back to Andrew, the ghost of a smile hanging from his mouth fading after a second, face wrinkling up.

“Isn’t that sweater mine?”

Kevin’s mind may say “Disgusting,” but he can feel the sides of his mouth quirk upwards as he finds Andrew’s face encrusted with crumbs of fear like he’s tumbling, freefalling, into an abyss.

wraithpirate  asked:

can you imagine somebody calling reninson gal pals during an interview and Allison looks the host dead in the eyes and says "she isn't my pal she's my fucking girlfriend"

It happens on Kathy Ferdinand’s show.

See, Allison Reynolds has entranced even the most apathetic of sports fans, and it’s no mystery why. She plays with aggressive wit. She launched her own sports fashion line. She’s been on the cover of SExy Magazine five times. In short, Allison is competent, successful, and attractive— and suspiciously tight-lipped about her love life.

In a post-game interview, Allison is asked if she’s seeing anyone. Her answer is, “Seriously? We just won an impossible game and you want to know about my relationship status?” Seeing her walk off, Kathy Ferdinand decides that she will be the reporter to uncover the truth.

Allison’s interview goes well enough with Kathy, at least at first. They talk idly about her pet snakes, her new luxury workout collection, her latest game.

Then Kathy says, “You have millions of adoring fans, and they’re all dying to know more about your life outside your work. So Allison, tell them: are you in a relationship with anyone?”

Allison stares at her. “Really? You don’t know?”

Kathy laughs nervously. “You haven’t made any public announcements yet, have you? The paparazzi haven’t caught anyone leaving the apartment you share with your good friend, Renee Walk—”

“My what?” The look on Allison’s face is frozen between anger and amusement.

“Well, everyone knows how close you two are. She’s all over your Instagram and Twitter. Can I just say, you two are absolute friend goals. But back to the matter at hand…”

Slowly, incredulously, as if not trusting Kathy to understand her, Allison replies, “Renee is my girlfriend. We’ve been dating since college.”

Social media explodes. Newscasters point out that in retrospect, that picture of Renee kissing Allison’s cheek captioned “love wins” really should’ve been clear enough. That video of them dancing to Tegan and Sara should’ve been clear enough. That time Allison said her type was “girls” should’ve been clear enough.

Young sapphics everywhere are screaming. They’ve insisted that Renee and Allison are a couple since the beginning. The Straights always mocked them for it, but they were right. They were right.

anonymous asked:

ooh for the kiss prompt i'd love to see andreil +19!

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

[kiss prompts]

Andrew has just fed the cats and put a pot of coffee on when he hears the front door open, announcing Neil’s return from the store.

By the time he’s pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and turned around, Neil’s standing in the doorway, smiling. He’s got a plastic bag dangling from his wrist and a newspaper in his hands.

Now evidently satisfied he has Andrew’s attention, Neil begins to read aloud.

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neil talks to andrew about baltimore.

tw for burning, ptsd, panic attacks, torture

neil felt his arms tied behind his back. he wasn’t in the car, wasn’t in any room or any real place. it was just dark. black. he couldn’t see anything, but could feel the tight metal of the hand cuffs scrapping into his wrists. the world was a mindless shape, an empty space.

beside his ear, he heard lola. she whispered cruel nothings beside him, taunting him, torturing him with words. threatening the foxes. threatening his family. she told him what she was going to do to him. 

“i’m going to set your body on fire,” she told him, and he cringed, curling into himself. “i’m going to carve you into pieces.”

and he knew she was not lying because he could feel the fire on his arms, crawling up to his face, flames wrapping around him. he could see the ugly red and orange overlapping his skin. he was crying, begging, pleading as he felt his body boil and burn.

neil woke up in a cold sweat.

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I have a lot of feelings about Andrew and Neil sleeping together. Like actual zzz sleep.


As non-descript as it was, Neil liked being in Andrew’s room in Columbia. The navy sheets were soft from many washings. The pillows were plump. And the comforter was worn-in. Neil stretched out on his side of the double bed. Light from the streetlights outside shone through the curtains as Andrew shut off the ceiling light and Neil turned on the bedside lamp.

Andrew checked the lock once more before crossing the room to the bed. He looked at Neil for a moment and stepped up onto the bed and over Neil for his spot against the wall. Neil watched him with a yawn. Andrew sat, obviously contemplating his next move.

“Take your shirt off,” Andrew said staring at Neil. Neil was in a t-shirt and boxers while Andrew wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“Mmm,” Neil hummed, sitting up so he could pull his shirt over his head. He locked eyes with Andrew and Andrew nodded, so Neil lay back down.

He watched as Andrew tugged at the hem of his sleeve. Neil knew what he was thinking about. They’d discussed it earlier, but Neil was waiting for Andrew to make the first move.

They’d slept in the same bed often now, but Andrew had expressed he wanted to sleep closer to Neil. He wanted to try touching Neil while they slept. Neil had no problem with it.

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The Truth Behind It

Neil finally makes a Twitter account the year after he leaves the Foxes. His PR has been nagging him about making a social media account since he joined the team but ultimately he uses it to annoy Andrew. Of course things escalate and the rumours of a rivalry between the two form, that is until Neil clarifies everything.

You can also read it on [AO3]

As always a big thank you to @velvetnoodle for being such a wonderful beta!

Neil is lying on the sofa of his empty apartment staring at the ceiling. The match he had been watching in the TV just ended and now the post game interviews are about to start; the sound of Andrew’s voice coming from the screen draws his attention back to the TV. He grabs the remote to turn the volume up and sits up on the couch to pay attention.

He can’t help but be surprised when he sees Andrew’s blank face right next to his team captain ready to do the interview. Andrew never liked to do this sort of thing and has always left that pretty clear in the past. But this wasn’t college anymore, they were now playing for professional teams and the contracts they signed were different, interviews and the occasional photos were part of their careers as professional athletes.

But that doesn’t mean that Andrew would go there and put on a smile for the cameras and pretend to be nice like Kevin does. No, Andrew will be there because that’s what’s required of him. Nothing else.

Neil is amused at the whole interview; Andrew either ignores the questions thrown at him or gives the shortest answers possible. And when it becomes clear that the reporters are no longer asking Exy related questions, Andrew just exits the room leaving his captain behind.

When the interview is over, Neil’s phone starts beeping so he fumbles on the couch in search of it. When he unlocks it he finds a message in his chat with Allison. It’s only a screenshot, and when Neil clicks to expand it he can see that it’s from a tweet of Nicky just saying next with laughing smiles and then Andrew’s reply to it saying You’re next.

Neil snorts. When did Andrew get a Twitter account? Maybe his PR had him make an account just like they’ve been asking Neil to do. He puts his phone away and watches the sports channel that is currently showing a game from the past season. But he doesn’t pay too much attention to it; he keeps thinking about what Allison showed him so he grabs his phone again and decides to download Twitter to try the damn thing. It will get his PR off his back and he can tease Andrew a bit.

He makes an account in a few minutes, and then he proceeds to type his first tweet.

@JostenN10: Who let @AJMinyard loose near the press?

In no time his phone begins to beep like crazy. People are beginning to follow him and retweet what he said, including some of the Foxes. Neil follows his friends back, and takes some time to figure out how to disable all the notifications except for theirs. He gets distracted trying to read what they’ve tweeted to each other lately until a notification letting him know that Andrew had just mentioned him appears.

@AJMinyard: @JostenN10 Mind your own damn business.

He smiles at his phone when he reads Andrew’s reply and gets up to prepare to go to sleep. His phone rings a few minutes later so he lays down and answers it. “Are you banned from interviews yet?”

“Not yet,” Andrew replies.

Neil begins to grin; of course Andrew will try to make it happen soon. He turns off his lamp and makes himself comfortable in bed to talk to Andrew. They haven’t seen each other in two weeks and Neil misses him. “You still coming here next weekend?”

“Yes,” Andrew answers, and then he proceeds to tell Neil about the book Renee let him borrow a few days ago when she went to visit him.

And like most nights they don’t talk for long as they both have practice in the next morning. So after Neil tells Andrew about his teammates becoming really stressed about the upcoming matches, they hung up to get some sleep.

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anonymous asked:

♧: andreil ;))

  • ♧: One character playing with the other’s hair

taken from this list if anyone wants to send me one :)

It’s Kevin’s fault, really.

It’s Kevin who walks past Andrew in the locker-room one day and makes a remark that his hair’s getting a little long and he should really think about getting it cut, and thus launching the ‘how long can Andrew go without getting his hair cut purely out of spite’ debacle.

It’s not even like Kevin was trying to issue a challenge, but inadvertent as it may have been, he has.

Of course it’s barely noticeable at first. Hair’s funny that way; it’ll look the same for ages and then all of a sudden, one day, it’s grown

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dysfunctional-college-roommates  asked:

42 + andreil? :)

It only took me all month to answer this! So sorry!

42: “I swear it was an accident.”

Andrew hasn’t even made it into the apartment and already he knows there’s trouble. His first hint is the smell: smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but a gross, acrid, burnt smoky smell. The second hint is the wail of the smoke detector and indistinct shouting. The third and most telling hint is that the door is half open, a definite no-no in the Minyard-Josten household.

I am so done with this shit Andrew thinks and then What the fuck is Neil doing? He pushes the door open, wrinkling his nose at the smell, which is almost overpowering.

“Honey, I’m home,” he calls out, voice heavy on the sarcasm.

Neil comes tearing around the corner, shirtless and inexplicably covered in blood.

“Oh my god! Andrew!” Neil yells. He’s holding a bloody towel and trying, ineffectually, to keep the blood from dripping on the floor. “I swear it was an accident!”

Andrew drops his bags and strides forward, checking Neil over. The wounds are superficial and look a lot like scratches. But that doesn’t explain the bloody nose.

“What the fuck happened?” Andrew demands.

“Neil, I can’t find Sir anywhere—oh…” Andrew stares hard at the man who has just walked out of the bedroom—he and Neil’s bedroom. “Andrew! Hey, uh, wow. This is awkward.”

Their landlord, Aubrey, is for reasons unknown also shirtless and covered in scratches. Andrew looks at Aubrey, then at Neil, his face as blank as always.


Neil looks on the verge of a breakdown. “Aubrey, can you shut off the damn smoke detector? I swear to God I am about to lose my mind…” Neil hops up on the kitchen counter, head tipped back to try and stop the bleeding. “Christ. This is what I get for trying to be romantic.”

Aubrey snorts and Andrew shoots him a nasty glare. The snort turns into a terrified meep. Aubrey busies himself with the smoke detector, climbing on top of one of their chairs and unscrewing the covering to remove the batteries. The ceiling fans, Andrew notices, are circulating at top power and all the windows are open, letting in the muggy summer heat.

“So, what had happened was,” Neil starts. “I wanted to make you dinner.” Already Andrew is shaking his head. “I know! I know I’m not supposed to use the oven while you’re gone but I was just going to heat up some bread while I microwaved a lasagna. But I got distracted by the game… you know… and the lasagna blew up in the microwave.” Neil waves his hand to indicate the mess dripping out of the microwave onto the counter and floor. It looks like something from a horror film. “I started trying to clean that up,” Neil continues, “but I forgot I had the bread in the oven.”

“You forgot to mention the salad,” Aubrey interrupts. He looks like he’s enjoying this story too much, or maybe he’s just enjoying the view of Neil without his shirt. Andrew places a protective hand on Neil’s thigh and squeezes.

“Right, the salad. I bought a salad in a bag and I put the glass salad bowl Allison gave us on top of the stove so I wouldn’t forget.” Andrew already knows where this is going. “But I didn’t realize that I had accidentally turned on the burner when I turned on the oven? So the bowl got super hot and exploded!” Neil spreads out his fingers to mime an explosion. “Some of the glass sliced me. It scared the crap out of King and Sir. I stepped on some glass trying to go look for them. Then the bread I don’t know caught fire? Or something? It started smoking and set off the alarm.”

“Meanwhile I was getting calls from y’all’s neighbors about the noise and came up to check,” Aubrey interjects. “Neil answers the door covered in blood so I, uh, took off my shirt to staunch the bleeding.”

Andrew literally cannot believe Aubrey. He just stares at him. Stupid Aubrey and his 5’5” and his stupid football player build.

“While we were talking King snuck out,” Neil points at the door. “Aubrey chased him and brought him back but King scratched the shit out of him. We managed to get him in the bathroom. Which, okay, everything was fine but my feet were bleeding and I slipped on the linoleum and Aubrey tried to catch me and we both went down and I hit my nose on the side of the tub. Hurt like a motherfucker.”

“He swore a lot,” Aubrey adds.

“Right, so, that’s it. In a nutshell. Totally an accident, all of it.”

Andrew surveys Neil, bloody and with bruises already blossoming on his skin. He takes in the wrecked kitchen, the bloody footprints leading everywhere. The oven is open, the last of the smoke drifting out of the apartment. Through the open window he can see two charred baguettes smoldering on the balcony. Lastly, he looks at Aubrey, still clutching his blood stained T-shirt to his obnoxiously waxed and muscled chest.

“Well,” Andrew says, “this is a cluster.”


After Aubrey leaves Andrew takes care of Neil, cleaning up his injuries like he’s done time and time again, though this is the first time that Neil has ever sustained culinary-related wounds. Thankfully the scratches and cuts are shallow but Neil will have black eyes from the nose job.

Once Andrew is done with First Aid he carries Neil back to the bedroom, settling him down on the bed. Sir, who has been hiding on the high shelves in the closet, jumps down and joins Neil. Andrew lets King out of the bathroom and King gives an indignant merow before getting on the bed. All four of them form a pile of bodies, human and feline. King settles on Andrew’s chest, kneading him and purring, sharp claws poking through his shirt. Sir licks the side of Neil’s face.

“I’m really sorry, Drew,” Neil sighs. “I wanted to do something nice for you and it ended up a disaster.”

“That’s what you get for breaking house rules,” Andrew grumps, flicking Neil’s ear. “But… thanks.”

Neil looks at him, blue eyes wide and startled. Andrew flicks him again. “But I better not catch you in our bedroom with another man, again.”

Neil laughs, head tipped back on the pillow. “Can you believe Aubrey took his shirt off? Who does he think he is, Magic Mike?”

Andrew groans. “Never should have let Nicky pick that one for movie night.”

They’re quiet for a minute; the only noise is the sound of the cats purring. Andrew scratches behind King’s ears and then does the same thing to Neil. Neil squints at him but smiles and leans into his touch.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Neil says.

Andrew tugs at Neil’s earlobe. “Glad to be back.”

“You know I don’t care.”

It was a Friday night in November, and the Foxes were at an away game. They lost, 7-4. But it was against the Trojans, so they weren’t too upset.

At the end of the game, Kevin and Jeremy shook hands and gave each other a slap on the back, Dan got a bear-hug from the walking sunshine, and Jean shook Kevin’s hand, after a nod of acknowledgement was shared between him and Neil. Andrew stayed near the rear of the group, not caring for the contact or reassurance.

When they walked off the court, no one paid any attention to the people in the audience; they were loud, and a blur of faces and bodies. And so nobody noticed the woman with blonde hair sitting four rows back.

When the Foxes all got onto the bus and Wymack pulled away, none of them noticed the woman getting into the small silver car and following a few cars behind. Why would they? Lots of people were behind the bus, leaving the game and heading wherever they were heading.

A while later, the bus had gotten back to the stadium, and the Foxes were making their way across the car park towards Fox Tower. None of them had noticed the little silver car parked on the furthest corner, and nobody saw the small woman watching them.

Andrew and Neil were bringing up the rear of the group. Aaron and Nicky were in front of them, and Kevin was wedged between the two pairs. When Andrew followed Neil through the door, the woman got out of her car and made her way across the dark lot towards the Tower, then up the stairs where the Foxes’ voices were echoing in the stairwell. She didn’t notice Andrew and Neil heading up to the roof; they were practically silent. Insead, stopped on the second floor and pushed that door open. Most of the Foxes had gone into the girls’ room, and so the door wa ajar. The woman could hear Nickys voice, and so guessed everyone was in there.

She knocked on the slightly open door, and Nicky opened it to her, an easy grin on his face.

“Yeah can I help you?” he asked. The woman was blonde, her hair in ringlets and she had a very motherly air to her. Nicky didn’t sense anything off about her. Why would he?

“I know this is out of the blue,” she began. Her voice was warm and gentle, like cupcakes. “But I really need to see Andrew.”

Nicky’s grin faltered and his brow creased.

“You know Andrew?” he asked, slightly cautious now.

At that moment, Aaron walked towards the door. The woman gasped when she saw him and automatically reached towards him.

“Andrew, I -”

Aaron groaned.

“I’m so sorry about everything -”

“Wrong twin, lady,” Aaron grumbled as he walked out of the girls’ room and towards his which he shared with Matt.

Now Nicky and Kevin were both looking at the woman, and Dan was staying close to the door with Matt to listen.

“Uhm,” Nicky said. “Yeah that was the wrong twin. Andrew isn’t here.”
The woman frowned. “But there were two - both of them came up here. He must be here.”
“How do you know him?” Kevin asked before Nicky could reply. The woman lowered her gaze.

“I uh knew him when he was younger.”

This made Nicky and Kevin look at each other. Renee was peering over Allison’s shoulder from their place on the sofa.

“I think you should leave,” Kevin said slowly. “I know you haven’t said who you are and please don’t - we’re terrible at lying to Andrew. But if you’re who I think you are, you should leave before Andrew gets back.”

“Gets back?” the woman asked. “When will he be back?”

Aaron walked back to the girls’ dorm, a movie in his hand.

“Look,” the woman tried. “I know Andrew must have told you all sorts of stories about me and my husband and our son but I promise they’re not true.”

This got Aaron’s attention and he looked up at her.

“Wait,” he said to Nicky and Kevin who were both about to speak. He looked at the woman, took in her long hair, those dark eyes, that undeniable motherly air, her warm smell which was almost like cookies…

“Crap,” he said. Quickly, he looked down the hall, towards the stairwell. The woman followed his gaze.

“I have to see him,” she insisted. “I have to see my boy-”
“He isn’t your boy,” Aaron cut in sharply. “Now I want you to listen to me very carefully. Turn around, walk back out of here, get back in your car and go back to wherever it is you and your husband live. Get out of here before my brother gets back.”

“But I-”

At that moment, the stairwell door opened and two bodies walked through it. One was Neil, the other Andrew. Andrew was walking in front of Neil, but was walking backwards. HIs entire stance and step was laxidazy. He looked so relaxed. Neil was laughing, his voice echoing down the hallway.Even if the pair weren’t his favourite people, Aaron knew it was better for them not to see the woman - if she was who they thought she was, who knew what that pair would do if they saw her.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron said loudly to cover the woman’s voice. “But Terry doesn’t live here. You must have the wrong bulding.” He turned to Nicky and Kevin, who were both still in the doorway. “I’ve never even heard of a Terry, have you?”

“No,” Nicky said.
Aaron turned back to the blonde woman, keeping the approaching pair in his peripheral vision. They were gettting closer. Andrew would turn around at any moment.

“So I trust you can make your own way back down, or would you like some help fidning your way?” Aaron asked. By now, Neil had noticed his tone and the woman and was looking between the pair, a confused look on his face.

The woman opened her outh and Nicky piped up.

“Neil, an I borrow your textbook?” he asked loudly, quickly pushing his way out the door and moving in front of the woman. Matt had caught on by now, and moved to stand in front of her too, just behind Nicky.

“Yeah,” the bulky man said. “And can I get some of your food?”

Aaron groaned. Neil looked at them all, perplexed. By now the pair had stoped outside their own dorm, and Andrew was turning. He glanced at Matt and Nicky, bored looking. But he heard Aaron groan and mutter, so he looked around them for his brother. Matt and Nicky tried to block his view, since Aaron was right beside the woman, but of course that only made him slightly interested.

“Just let me see him!” tthe woman said loudly.

Andrew froze.

Nicky and Matt winced.

Aaron’s heart skipped.

Neil loked to Andrew, instantly seeing the difference in him.

“‘Drew?” he asked quietly. But Andrew ignored him.

“Move,” the small blonde man said flatly. Nicky and Matt looked at each other, but  moved out of the way. The woman looked at Andrew, who was still frozen next to Neil.

“Andrew,” she sighed.Before anyone could stop her, she ha moved to just a few steps in front of Andrew. “Sweetheart…” She trailed off, and ran her hand through his blonde hair. “It’s so good to se you agian you have no idea.”

Anrew didn’t say  anything, didn’t move, didn’t do anything but stay pefectly still, his expression frozen as if he were concentrting really hard.

“I’m so sorry,” she began. “For everything. And for not belie-”

Andrew pulled away, his face contorting into a manic grin which made Kevin, Nicky, Matt and Aaron alll freeze.

“Oh Cass,” he said. Neil looked sharply at tthe woman, instantly at Andrew’s side instead of behind him. “You know I don’t care.”

She stared at him.

“But I-”
He pulled her hand from his hair, dropping it as if she had burned him.

“Get out,” he said, grin still in place. “Now.”
“Darling, I-”
“Don’t. I don’t care. I did, and look where it got me. You were never my mother, and you were never going to be. Now leave. Again. I never want to see you again.”

By now the woman was crying. Andrew leveled a glare on her.

“I hate you,” he said clearly. “Almost more than I hate him. You should remember I don’t repeat myself, so don’t make one of them have to show you the way  out.”

With that, he walked owards Aaron and Nicky, grabbing them both and Kevin, shoving them all roughly into the monsters’ dorm.

“Neil,” he called, his tone sarcastic and full of fake joy.

Neil followed him into the room, shutting the door behind him, bolting it after a second. By the time he turned back around, Andrew had sank onto the floor and pulled Aaron with him. He reached out, running his fingers through his twin’s hair, across his temple.

“Did she hurt you?” he wanted to know. Aaron shook his head.

“No,” he said. “She didn’t touch me.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Andrew said flatly. He was still grinning.

“She didn’t hurt me,” Aaron assured his twin. “I promise.”

Andrew nodded, hand still running over Aarons’ temple. No one in the room moved to separate them. Actually no one in the room moved at all. Nicky and Kevin were frozen in the corner, and Neil was still leaning against the locked door.

That night, the boys all fell asleep on the floor, Neil closest to Andrew, who was still curled up near his twin, back against one of the beanbags.

anonymous asked:

12 for andreil?

things you said when you thought i was asleep

Neil pretended not to hear the door to their suite open. It was probably just Robin checking on him again and he was too tired to ignore her presence.

He couldn’t even bring himself to tell her not to worry anymore. She was probably right to be worried. Neil was worried.


The voice simultaneously sent a wave of relief and embarrassment through him. His eyes shot open and then he whispered, “Andrew?”

Andrew looked down at him, the corners of his mouth tilted down, arms crossed. Neil saw the concern in his eyes and wanted to avert his own gaze but he couldn’t look away, too scared Andrew would disappear.

He watched him remove his shoes before climbing onto the edge of Neil’s bed. Neil moved then to lift his comforter and let Andrew under.

“You’re cold,” Neil whispered, warm lips pressed to the chilled skin of Andrew’s throat.


“Andrew -”

Andrew tightened his arms around Neil but insisted, “Not now. Robin called. She’s worried.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Neil choked out.

Andrew made a small noise that could’ve been a snort or could’ve been a growl. “I thought we agreed no more lies.” Before Neil could defend himself, he said, “Go to sleep. We’re going to talk about this when you wake up.”

Neil hated the contradictory feeling of being safe and loved but also filled with dread at the thought of the conversation to come. He fisted Andrew’s shirt - a sort of guarantee that he couldn’t slip away when Neil inevitably drifted back to sleep.

After a few minutes Andrew sighed.

“You idiot.”

The concern and the - the love so blatant in his tone made Neil realize Andrew thought he was already unconscious. He fought to keep his breathing deep and even.

“I need you,” Andrew whispered. “I don’t know how to be strong without you. I thought - you were a fucking weakness but now - You can’t just slip away, Neil.”

He went quiet again, then, “I love you. I don’t know how to stop.”

Neil’s body tensed and Andrew froze. Neil pushed his face closer to Andrew’s and said, “Andrew?”

Andrew cleared his throat. “What?” His voice was gruff and harsh and Neil had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the first smile trying to make an appearance in weeks.

“I love you,” Neil mumbled, then sighed contentedly.

Something to Get Up For

Summary: The panicked, heart racing moments following Neil’s abduction to Baltimore, as told by a deteriorating Andrew. (Neil/Andrew)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing! mentions of abuse! scars! like. it’s tfc honestly >_>

A/N: I know this has been beautifully fleshed out before, but I couldn’t get it out of my head, and I am as obsessed as I am stymied with the workings of Andrew’s mind.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have andriel fic recs, or know of a list?

oh, there are so many good ones! here are just a couple of the ones I personally really love
(please feel free to add on to this if you want)

“The most beautiful thing ever”

(I’m taking a break from trying to post the Cabeswater pics so here)



Kevin hurried into the room, making Andrew raise an eyebrow and Neil to frown in confusion. It was movie night in the girls’ room, and usually Kevin was indifferent about it. Instead of acknowledging the looks he was getting from the freshmen and a few other Foxes, he made his way over to Allison and showed her something on his phone. Allison grinned and nodded as she watched whatever was on his screen, before taking the phone off of him and swiping a few times.

“We’re watching this before the movies,” she declared as a large rectangle appeared on the TV screen. “Lights!” Neil turned in time to see Dan turn off the lights, then looked back at the screen as Allison swiped over Kevin’s screen again, and a freeze-frame appeared on the TV screen, a “play” arrow in the center of the screen. All Neil could make out we’re a bunch of blurred suits and dresses, in what looked like an Exy court. After a second, he realised it looked like one of the banquets.

“What is it?” he asked. He could hear the grin in Allison’s voice as she answered.

“A clip Jeremy sent Kevin - and it is something we all want to see; Freshies, pay attention - this is why you don’t piss off Neil, and this is also how not to behave at the banquet and antagonise a yakuza family.”

Neil groaned - he had an idea of what the clip was of.

“And the rest of us want to see it because we didn’t get to see it happen at the time - Nicky, you’re welcome.”

With that, Allison pressed “Play” on Kevin’s phone and all eyes went to the TV.

On-screen, it was clear the video was being taken on someone’s - presumably Jeremy’s - phone. It only took Neil two seconds to have his suspicions confirmed; it was a video from last years’ winter banquet.

The noise was distorted, partly from the fact it was taken on a smartphone and partly because of how much noise there was in the video.

Jeremy’s voice was loudest as he and one of the other Trojans - Alvarez, Neil guessed - were talking and laughing, before someone pointed across the room with a “Hey there look!” and the camera zoomed in.

Neil cringed when he saw his old self - brown hair and contacts, not a scratch on his face, standing in a suit next to Kevin at the far side of the room. The other Foxes had disappeared onto the dance floor, but Matt and Dan were still in the shot, standing a little way off from the pair.

“Josten cleans up nice,” someone was saying off-screen, and there were slurred agreements.

A few seconds later, a female voice said “Oh shit,” and the camera whirled around before focusing on another pair, clad all in black, as they made their way towards Neil and Kevin.

“Shit,” Jeremy said as he tried to get closer.

After a few seconds of Riko talking, he gestured and Jean joined Kevin. Neil’s lips moved and Kevin shot a glance at him before letting Jean lead him away, towards Matt and Dan at the other end of the table. All four of them were watching Neil and Riko. Even though the conversation couldn’t be heard on the video, Neil could remember all too easily how it had gone.

Ten seconds later, Neil’s face blurred in confusion before it went slack; less than five seconds later it had shifted into a snarl at the exact same moment Neil’s fist smashed into Riko’s face.

A few of the Foxes gasped, freshmen and originals. Nicky made some sort of cooing screaming noise. Beside Neil, Andrew was still and seemingly bored, but Neil could see the micro expressions on his face easily.

On the screen, Neil had Riko on the floor and was still hitting him. Riko rolled them over so he was on top, but was quickly floored again by Neil. At the time, Neil hadn’t paid attention to who had won or who was winning - but watching it, it looked as if Neil had actually been winning the fight.

At the table, Matt and Dan were grinning in disbelief. Beside them, Kevin and Jean’s faces were utterly blank with shock.

The camera shook and Neil watched as Matt hurried to pull him off of Riko. Matt got him about five steps away before Neil bit his arm and stomped on his foot at the same time as elbowing his ribs with so much force Neil bet there had been a bruise; with that, he was back on Riko, clawing and punching, before Matt and Coach hauled him off and separated the two.

The room was silent, and Neil glared at Riko. “I understand,” he said, and Riko sneered.

“Appology accepted. ”

The video cut off, and Neil was shocked. He had barely recognised his own face in those last few seconds, - it had been a mask of sheer rage and hatred… he looked like he could have happily killed Riko then and there. In hindsight, he could have. And his voice… it had been more like a snarl or a hiss than words.

The Foxes sat in silence before Nicky erupted with another inhuman noise. Apparently that was a cue, and the other Foxes and freshmen erupted into noise - “Holy shit! - No way no way - my fucking God! - Why didn’t we know about this - That’s the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen -”

But Neil couldn’t focus on anyone but Andrew. Andrew, who was so still beside him but didn’t seem upset or angry. As Neil watched, he thought he saw a twitch of a smile before Andrew regained his blank mask. But that tiny twitch was enough to make Neil grin.

“Wait - what did Riko say to piss Neil off so much?”

The Foxes fell silent, before Nicky said “Neil, you won’t get stabbed, so you can say.”

Neil shot a glare at Nicky before saying carefully, “He said shit about Andrew.”

The freshmen processed that, before one asked, “Were you two already dating then?”

“No,” Neil replied. Matt groaned and Dan whooped, making Neil assume he had just won Dan some money.

The others went back to talking, and Neil went back to gazing at Andrew. Andrew, who was safe and was his home.

anonymous asked:

can you do andreil where andrew is having a very bad panic attack and neil has to calm him down by like holding him or whispering little things in his ears

“Neil! Neil! Thank god you’re back.” Robin grabs his arm and all but drags him into the room.

“What’s -” Neil stops short when he realizes why everyone looks so relieved to see him when usually only Robin gives him any notice.

Andrew has his hands over his ears and he’s sitting on the couch unmoving. Neil knows he needs to clear the room so he demands, “Everyone out.”

There’re a few complaints and some derogatory language thrown at him but Neil only has eyes and ears for Andrew. He hears the others as a distant roar in the background and yells, “Out! Now!”

He catches some of the team’s responses of “fine” and “whatever” but doesn’t give them the satisfaction of yelling again. Once everyone leaves and Robin shuts the door, Neil carefully walks around the couch.

He realizes then that Andrew’s lips are moving and he leans forward to try and make out what he’s saying. His heart drops into the icy pit of his stomach when he realizes.

“Please. Please. No, please.”

Neil stoops in front of him and says, “Andrew. It’s me. It’s Neil.”

His eyes are closed and Neil says, “Andrew, come on. Look at me.”

With his eyes closed and his hands over his ears, Neil has no choice but to touch him. He does so in the first place Andrew tested him, a hand over his racing heart.

Andrew stiffens even more and Neil whispers, “I’m sorry.”

When his hand doesn’t move, Andrew opens his eyes.

“Hey,” Neil says, but Andrew isn’t looking at him. He’s looking over Neil’s shoulder, pure terror in his eyes and Neil whips around causing Andrew to flinch.

The television is on - muted but on - and a man’s face fills the screen. Neil looks over his shoulder and asks, “Who is that?”


Neil faces the tv again and reads the words underneath. Known child molester and rapist out for good behavior.

“No,” Neil hisses and anger fills the void where his heart was just a minute ago. He scrambles to find the remote and ends up pulling the cord out of the wall to make the screen go black.

He’s breathing hard when he faces Andrew again. He comes closer and sees the moment Andrew registers it’s just him.

Neil holds his hand out and asks, “Yes or no?” expecting the answer to be no. But Andrew grabs his hand too hard and pulls him down onto the couch next to him.

“What do you need?” Neil asks, trying to keep the quake from his voice.

Andrew pulls his arms around him and buries his face in Neil’s chest and Neil is … confused. Andrew doesn’t seem okay enough to be testing Neil’s resolve for his boundaries but Neil’s never known Andrew to want this kind of comfort when childhood memories and traumas grip him.

“Hey,” Neil says, low. “Is this okay? Drew, I need a yes or no from you. Can you answer me?”

Andrew nods into his chest and Neil murmurs again, “Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

Another nod and Neil says, “Okay, then I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

They stay in that spot and Neil’s arm falls asleep but he doesn’t dare move until he notices the time on the wall. “Practice is almost over, Andrew. Should we go home?”

Andrew nods and Neil stands. He sort of expects Andrew to take his hand but instead he wraps his arm around Neil’s back and leans his weight against him.

“Don’t let me go,” Andrew says in a small, fragile, not-Andrew voice.

“I won’t,” Neil promises. “Not unless you tell me to.”

They start down the hall and Neil says, “I’ve got you.”

[In] Sickness

anonymous asked:

Hey, that fic about andrew in car accident was amazing!!! Could you please write hurt/comfort: You’re burning up + andreil (with sick andrew) ?

(Lord have mercy it took me FOREVER to get around to writing this! Anonymous I hope you are still out there and I’m sorry and I hope you like this!)

Brief but not explicit mentions of some troubling things from Andrew’s past, including Drake.

Neil’s duffle bag is on the floor outside he and Andrew’s room. There’s no note, no texts from Andrew. Neil tries the door but it’s locked.

“Oh, baby, what did you do?” Nicky asks. He hangs over Neil’s shoulder, his breath smelling like coffee.

“Nothing,” Neil mutters, elbowing Nicky off. He picks up his duffle and just stands there wondering. He hasn’t seen Andrew since this morning. They hadn’t fought the night before in fact it had been a really nice night. Andrew had even given him a small peck on the forehead when he left the dorm early to go running before class. So why? Why was his stuff out here? Why was he being shut out?

Aaron shoved by him, sending Neil crashing against the wall.

“Looks like the honeymoon’s over,” Aaron smirked. It was a very unpleasant expression. “Not that I’m surprised. After all Andrew’s just—”

“Aaron,” Neil cuts him off, his glare as sharp as Andrew’s knives, “shut up. And fuck off.”

Aaron snorts and flips Neil off before going to his room. Neil drags his duffle out to the common area where Kevin’s watching an exy game and doing pushups.

“Andrew kicked me out,” Neil says, taking a seat on the floor next to Kevin. He’s not really watching the game; he’s too busy trying to figure out why he’s been exiled.

“Fix it,” Kevin pants. His gaze doesn’t waver from the screen and his movements don’t pause. “We have practice.”

Neil nods but it’s only to placate Kevin. He knows Andrew and if this was really about him then he’s fairly certain Andrew would have said something. Leaving his stuff in the hall is too passive aggressive for Andrew. Locking himself in the room isn’t a typical Andrew play, either. If Andrew were pissed he would continue with his routine while giving Neil the cold shoulder. No, this has to be something else.

“I’m going to go talk to Renee.” Kevin doesn’t even acknowledge that Neil has spoken. This Neil thinks to himself is why Dan is captain, not you.

Renee and Allison are hanging out, perched in the windows, making commentary on the students walking on the sideways below them. Well, Allison is making commentary and Renee is trying to stop her from being mean. It’s a lost cause.

“Here he is! Ladies and ladies, may I present the Walking Wound Man of Palmetto State, the Stone Cold Survivor, Neil Josten!” Allison’s loud enough that the students outside look up at the window.

“Shhh!” Renee tries to shush Allison but she’s laughing too much. Neil shakes his head but lets Allison pull him into a side hug.

“Hey babe, what’s up? You come to hang out with the foxiest ladies in all of South Carolina, no, all of the world?” Allison plants a messy, boozy kiss on his cheek. Neil isn’t sure why Allison is day drinking but at least she’s in a happy place.

“I was wondering if Andrew went to class today.”

Allison wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “One track mind, Josten, not attractive.”

“He wasn’t in class with me,” Renee offers, “but he texted me and said that he would need notes later. And homework. I haven’t seen him all day.”

“I haven’t either,” Allison comments, “but I try to avoid the twins at all costs.”

“Okay, thanks,” Neil starts heading for the door, “I’ve got to go… do some stuff. Allison, you’ll be sober tonight?”

Allison makes a raspberry and snorts, “As sober as Day. You’re not the boss of me yet, Neil.”

Neil nods and hurries out the door while he still can. Dan is going to have her hands full tonight.

He waits until his other suite mates have left for dinner before knocking on the bedroom door. He squats outside, ear pressed to the wood, listening for movement. There’s nothing.

“Andrew? Hey, babe, you going to let me in?” Nothing. “Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron went to dinner. It’s just me.” Nothing. Neil tries knocking again. Nothing. He calls Andrew’s cell. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Now he’s starting to get a little panicked because Andrew doesn’t play the silent game, not like this. There’s a very real possibility that he can’t come to the door and Neil starts mentally running through a list of awful scenarios, starting with the worst: what if he’s dead? The thought, unlikely as it is, won’t be ignored.

“Andrew? I’m unlocking the door, okay?” His fingers are shaking as he gets the key in the lock.

The room is dark, the blinds closed and all the lights off. Neil flicks on a desk light and closes the door behind him. There’s a lump in Andrew’s bed. It’s not moving.

Neil tiptoes across the room, wary of waking Andrew if he’s asleep. They’ve come a long way but Andrew still reacts badly to being woken.

The blankets are pulled up over Andrew’s head, only tufts of blond hair peek out from below the heavy comforter. Neil hovers over the bed, trying to determine if Andrew is breathing.

“Andrew?” His voice is loud, not a shout but above normal talking volume. “Andrew Minyard if you’re alive, move! Or something.” He almost says please but he catches himself in time. There’s no movement so he moves on to more extreme measures, touching Andrew’s shoulder.

This produces a stunningly violent reaction. Andrew grabs Neil’s wrist, bending it back almost to the point of breaking. Although the grab was fast, the rest of his reactions are slower and he doesn’t look right…

“Andrew! God, it’s me! Neil. Shit, you’re hurting my wrist, Andrew.”

“Neil?” Andrew’s voice is hoarse and sluggish. He blinks slowly and wavers before releasing Neil and falling back onto the bed. “Thought I locked the door.”

Neil kneels on the bed next to Andrew. “You did. What’s up with that?” Andrew’s shivering violently, trying to pull the blankets back up around his face. Neil helps him and his fingers brush Andrew’s skin. “Oh my God, Andrew! You’re burning up.”

Andrew coughs weakly. “It’s just a fever. I’ll be fine.”

“What?” Neil grabs a bottle of water from his desk and hands it to Andrew. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Just… using… your line,” Andrew mutters. His eyes are closed and Neil presses his palm to Andrew’s forehead, the heat coming off him is unreal.

“Well, I’m stupid, you’ve always said that,” Neil replies. “We’ve gotta get your fever down. How long has it been like this? Andrew?”

Andrew’s almost asleep again but he opens his eyes enough to glare at Neil. “I didn’t feel good this morning. That’s why I put your stuff out. So you don’t catch it.”

“Oh for fuck’s—” Neil fumes. He’s trying to remember every home remedy he and his mother used for treating fevers.

“Neil,” Andrew’s voice is weak and it makes Neil want to panic. Andrew is never weak. “Relax. I Googled this. Rest and fluids. See, I’m resting and,” he shakes the water bottle, “fluids. You’re keeping me from resting. Go away.”

“No.” Neil climbs back onto the bed, peering at Andrew like he can magically make him better just by being close to him.

“Ugh. Fuck off,” Andrew groans and covers his face up with blankets.

“Fine.” Neil slides off the bed but he doesn’t move from his post. He studies his phone, reading all the articles he can about fevers and related illness. He’s upset that there’s nothing he can do to help, Andrew’s already taking care of it just by sleeping and drinking. After a while he gives up and pulls a chair over. He can’t see Andrew, can’t touch him, all he can do is be there.

The minutes pass by slowly but Neil doesn’t really notice. He’s thinking about Andrew locking him out, about Andrew getting sick. He wants to ask Nicky what Andrew’s done before. As long as he’s know Andrew the sturdy goalkeeper has never gotten sick. Andrew has always been strong and reliable that way. Even after Drake, Andrew didn’t care about his wellbeing; he was too focused on Aaron. Neil hates that about Andrew, hates that the man he loves more than anything does so little to take care of himself. Like locking Neil out to keep him from catching whatever illness is wreaking havoc on Andrew’s immune system… god, Neil can’t believe it took him so long to figure it out.

When the guys come back from dinner Neil leaves his post, ready to get some answers from Nicky or Aaron. Both guys are in their room, arguing about movies and actors, until they see Neil. He’s annoyed that they aren’t immediately concerned about Andrew. He’s annoyed that both of them assumed that Andrew was fine and that he and Neil had fought. The amount of concern that either of them gives to their family is so lacking that it making Neil furious.

“Andrew’s sick,” Neil states, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Nicky, then Aaron.

“No he’s not,” Aaron says dismissively. “Andrew doesn’t get sick.”

Nicky’s slightly more apologetic. “Really, Neil, he doesn’t. I’ve never had to take him to the doctor for being sick, I don’t think he’s ever gone to Abby, either.”

It takes all of Neil’s self-restraint not to yell. “You two are both assholes, you know that? Andrew has a fever of 101.2 right now!” He’s totally making that part up, but they don’t know that. “That’s why he’s been locked in the room all day, he doesn’t want to get us sick by spreading his germs.”

“The only germs he has he probably got from you!” Aaron’s voice is ugly, the unspoken accusation is uglier.

“Okay! Everyone calm the fuck down!” Nicky yells, getting between Aaron and Neil. “Aaron, you’re out of line. Neil, I totally believe you but what do you want us to do about it?”

“I just want…” Neil waves his hands over his head, feeling more worked up than he has in a long time. “I just want you to care. He’s been in there, alone, all day. Because that’s how he knows to take care of himself, by shutting himself up where he’s safe and no one can get to him. Do you get that? What do you think happened when he got sick as a kid? And he couldn’t—” Neil chokes on a sob and sits down hard, his back to the door. He didn’t mean to say that, didn’t mean to spout out the thoughts that have been torturing him, especially not to them.

Nicky and Aaron look ill, both of them exchange an uneasy look that says that they’ve tried not to think about Andrew’s childhood, especially after they all found out about Drake. Andrew won’t talk about it but Neil knows, he knows it was horrible.

“Neil,” Nicky reaches for him but Neil pulls away. “Neil, we didn’t know.” Neil snorts. The amount that Nicky and Aaron didn’t know, still don’t know, is unforgiveable.

Neil gets to his feet, brushes off his running shorts. “Whatever. You know now. Do better next time. Or don’t. Fuck you both.” He doesn’t slam the door on the way out because he doesn’t want it to accidentally wake Andrew.

He ignores Kevin on the way to the kitchen and grabs more waters and a bendy straw. He should probably eat but he’s too amped up from fighting with Nicky and Aaron and he wants to be with Andrew, just in case he wakes up.

Andrew is still sleeping so Neil settles back in the desk chair to wait, skimming over his textbooks but not really retaining what he reads. He ignores Kevin’s summons to attend practice, locking the door so the big striker won’t disturb Andrew. Around eleven Andrew wakes up and Neil hands him an opened bottle of water with a straw. Andrew rolls his eyes at the gesture but he still accepts it, chewing on the straw while he thirstily drinks almost the entire bottle.

“Are you hungry?” Neil asks. “We’ve got tomato soup I could heat up.”

Andrew shakes his head and leans back on the pillows. “You should go sleep on the couch.”

“Whatever.” Neil’s been resting half on the bed, arms folded on the blankets, head pillowed in the crook of his arm. “If I haven’t caught what you have yet then I’m not going to. Besides, the guys already think you hate me because you threw my stuff out.”

Andrew smirks a little. “I did not. If you opened your bag you would see that I nicely folded your clothes and put them in there.”

“Hmm. Yeah, we both know how good you are at riffling through people’s drawers.”

“You always have to bring that up.”

“Well.” Neil plucks at the blankets. He’s glad Andrew’s talking but he’s still worried and messed up about everything else. It’s taking a good deal of effort to keep his thoughts to himself; Andrew doesn’t need that burden now, maybe not ever.

“Neil.” Andrew’s fingers are in his hair and that feels nice, so nice that Neil thinks he could fall asleep just like this. “Junkie.” Neil turns his head to the side so he can see Andrew. His face is still flushed and his eyes are bright. Fever. “Either get on the bed or sleep on the floor. Sleeping in a chair is bad for your back.”

Neil doesn’t wait for Andrew to rescind his offer. He scoots onto the bed, still wearing his practice clothes. He snuggles in, but not too close. Andrew’s already overheated and he doesn’t need Neil’s body heat adding to it. Neil holds out his hand and Andrew takes it.

“Your hands are cold,” Andrew yawns.

“Mmmm,” Neil hums. “Your hands are hot.”

“They’re always like that.”

Neil huffs a quiet laugh and shifts around a bit more until he’s settled. He feels warm from the heat radiating off Andrew and he feels safe, but more than that he feels wanted and accepted. Andrew Minyard is a champion at pushing people away but for once he’s reaching out to pull someone closer. Neil doesn’t know how he got so lucky but he’s holding on and never letting go.

keep me here

pairing: andreil 
word count: 2,963
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This is real.

Andrew wasn’t sure at first but the smell of black coffee in the morning and the cluttered path of shoes through his room and the tangled blankets cloaking his body convince him otherwise. Reality settles in when he lounges on the couch all Saturday, inevitably getting roped into an inane, violent videogame by Nicky, Kevin glaring disapprovingly from the kitchen.

It’s real in the way the cold bites at his fingertips when he refuses to wear gloves for a morning cig, but insists on pulling on three pairs of socks. It’s the rush he gets on the court, closing out the goal, watching the opposing team’s strikers become angrier and angrier.

But most of all, Andrew thinks, Neil is real.

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His eyes had been the first thing Andrew ever noticed about Neil. The ring of piercing blue that the contacts couldn’t cover made him unknown; a threat. Later, Andrew noticed when Neil took the muddy brown off of his irises and gave him a sliver of honesty. A while after that, Andrew noticed the quiet adoration in them when Neil looked at him as though Andrew were something precious.

Now, six years after Baltimore, Andrew noticed how Neil’s sharp blue eyes looked flat and cold. Something had changed in the last two weeks; Andrew just didn’t know what it was.  

It had started quietly, as all bad things did in Andrew’s experience. He’d started waking up in the middle of the night to find Neil curled in on himself and pressed against the very edge of the bed. This wouldn’t have been unusual when they had first started sharing a bed, but in the six years of their not-thing, both of them had become used to the idea, and often woke up curled around each other.

Neil’s morning runs had become longer and longer after he slipped out of their shared bed at the crack of dawn and when he eventually made his way home, he didn’t saunter into the bedroom to annoy Andrew with sweaty morning kisses.

Andrew could feel Neil pull away from him. He didn’t want to turn Neil back into a liar by tainting his “always yes”s with “no”s, so Andrew stopped asking him for the meager affection they tended to share. Neil always came home though, so Andrew chalked it up to something that Neil had to work through on his own.


Practise had been gruelling, despite Andrew’s lack of effort, and by the time he got home he was ready to collapse onto the couch and watch whatever terrible movie had caught Neil’s attention.

“Kevin just-” he heard Neil from the other room when he pushed the front door open. It was unusual for Neil to be voluntarily speaking to Kevin at all. “I just need-” he cut himself off in frustration and Andrew heard the squeak of springs as Neil sat on the edge of the bed. Neil tried a few more times to say whatever it was that he needed to say before settling on: “he keeps telling me this is nothing anyway, and he’s not actually in love with me so this is for the best.”

Andrew let the door fall shut behind him and Neil’s phone call came to an abrupt end. Neil wandered into the kitchen where Andrew was pulling cartons of ice cream out of the freezer. Neil’s words were racing through his head and Andrew was trying to understand them when he turned to the other man. His thoughts ground to a halt when his eyes met Neil’s. The blue was rimmed in red, and bags sat like black smudges under his eyes. Andrew had never seen Neil cry, and an old old conversation sprung to mind.

I saw Matt crying today.


Sometimes I wonder if I’m broken. I’ve only cried once since I was eight, and even then I was literally having my face melted off with a dashboard lighter.

I’m sure Riko was heartbroken that he couldn’t squeeze a few tears out of you during your little stint at Evermore.

Like Riko was worthy of my tears.

Neil’s cold eyes dropped to the ground and broke contact, but the implication that he had been crying sent Andrew’s pulse racing.

One of the cats rubbed against Andrew’s leg and began demanding some of whatever Andrew was holding. “If you don’t feed your cat I will poison it with ice cream,” Andrew said. Neil usually smiled and rolled his eyes when Andrew claimed that he didn’t care about the cats, but his statement had Neil chewing on his bottom lip and slipping around Andrew to pull the bag of cat food from the cupboard.

Neil’s phone went off in his back pocket and Neil startled before he yanked it out and killed the call. A few seconds later a text message pinged on Neil’s cell and his face twisted. He slammed his finger down onto the call button and snarled the word “don’t” over the line, hanging up a second later.

Andrew jerked his chin up in a silent demand for an explanation but Neil breathed in, chest hitching and walked out of the house.

He didn’t come back that night.

The next day passed slowly and Andrew spent practise picking his feelings apart. Did he care that he’d slept alone? Was what Neil had said about Andrew not loving him true? Andrew didn’t know how to love, but what he felt for Neil was… unique, and important. It had been years since he had drawn up the conclusion that if it was Neil, then he didn’t want to be alone. That decision had only cemented itself  in Andrew’s mind over time.

He sped home, pushing his newest expensive car as far as it could go. Whatever was going on with Neil wasn’t something he could work through on his own. The front door was unlocked when he pulled it open. Muted relief washed over Andrew; Neil had at least come home.

“Neil,” he called into the house, throwing his shoes in the alcove by the door. He didn’t get a response, and the relief dulled into a cold unease. Andrew allowed himself a second to feel it before pushing the sensation away.

The cats were meowing in the living room and they never seemed to leave Neil alone when he was home, so Andrew made his way through the house.

Neil was sitting on the couch, packed duffel bag between his feet. Andrew stared at him for a moment before whatever was happening clicked in his brain. “You’re leaving,” he stated, voice as bored and devoid of emotion as it always was.

“Yes,” Neil said, “I’m leaving.”

“Why?” Andrew felt panic running like static in his fingers. His throat felt tight. It was too similar to how he’d felt after the riot and Andrew crossed his arms to avoid lashing out.

Indecision played over Neil’s features, a war raging in his eyes. “I can’t-” he cut himself off. “Maybe I’m just craving affection,” he said at length.

Andrew didn’t stop him when he left.

He lay in bed that night, running his hand over Neil’s side of the bed. It was cold, and Andrew felt nausea roil in his gut. Andrew was drifting off when his ringtone shattered the silence. He rolled over and grabbed it from the night stand. Kevin was calling. Andrew debated cancelling the call, wishing it was ringing with a certain custom ringtone instead.

“What,” he answered.

“You really can’t let this get between you,” came the reply.

“Neil wanting something I can’t give him is more than something that could merely ‘get between us’.”

Silence rang over the line like static. “What are you talking about?”

“He,” Andrew paused, searching for the right words, “broke up with me because he wants more affection than I could ever offer him. He’s tired of being held at arm’s length.”

“That’s not why he-” Kevin made a frustrated sound. “He didn’t tell you.”

Andrew sat up. “Oh Kevin, why is it that you always seem to know Neil’s secrets when I do not?”

“Because he doesn’t care about me. His life can’t hurt me.”

Andrew didn’t respond.

“Just come get him,” Kevin sighed, “he’s crashing in my spare room.”

Andrew was out of bed and on the road within minutes. It was a two hour drive to Kevin’s apartment, but Andrew cut it down to an hour and a half. He pulled up outside Kevin’s building and threw the car into park. Boiling fury had fueled him on the drive over, but now that Neil was a mere elevator ride away, it flooded from his blood stream.

He sat in the car for a few minutes before making his way upstairs. Kevin lived on the seventeenth floor, and the glass elevator sent Andrew already unsteady pulse tripping over itself. Kevin answered the door after the third knock.

“Oh thank fuck you’re here,” he exhaled, “Neil crying is not something I have the emotional capability to deal with.”

“It’s unlike you to be so self aware,” Andrew said distractedly as he stepped into the apartment. Kevin pointed him in the direction of the spareroom. Andrew eased the door open and stepped into the dark room. Neil was curled up on his side under the sheets, and Andrew took a moment to sweep his eyes over the hill of Neil’s hip and the valley of his waist. Neil’s slow, steady breathing couldn’t be faked; he was fast asleep.

He must have been exhausted, because both Andrew and Neil were the type of people to wake at the slightest disturbance. Andrew dropped down on the bed a few inches away from Neil and his fingers itched to reach out and run themselves through Neil’s copper locks. “Neil,” he said, “Neil, wake up.”

Neil’s eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide from sleep. They narrowed into pinpricks when he caught sight of Andrew and he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Andrew,” his voice faltered, “What are you doing here?”

“I came back for my lying rabbit.”

The sharp inhale that Neil sucked into his lungs betrayed his anxiety. “I didn’t want to lie to you.”

“So why did you really leave? Do you really think I don’t-” Andrew swallowed the rest of the sentence. “We’ve been doing this long enough that I expect honesty. If you really want me out of your life, I’ll go, but I at least deserve to know why.”

Neil buried his face in his knees. “I don’t,” he said, words dripping with pain. “I don’t want you out of my life.”

“So why?” Andrew asked, startled by the desperation leaking into his voice.

Neil dropped his hand on the bed and curled his fingers in invitation. Andrew slotted his fingers in between Neil’s. “Why?” he repeated.

“I don’t know how he found out,” Neil whispered. “Ichirou found out about our first Columbia trip. Someone sent him a video of Nicky shoving drugs into my mouth.”

They had long since discussed Nicky’s forced kiss, but it still sent a familiar bubble of anger through Andrew’s heart. “And?”

“And Ichirou knows you… orchastated it. He knows that if that video leaks my career will be greatly impacted. Mostly he doesn’t trust you though. What evidence does he have that you won’t do something like that again? And if you do, his investment is over.”

Andrew swallowed around the glass in his throat. “So he threatened to kill you if you stay with me? That makes no sense.”

The look Neil shot him made him feel as though he had said something stupid. “No, he’ll kill you and I-” a tear slipped over Neil’s scarred cheek and he lifted the hand that was still entwined with Andrew’s to scrub it away. “I can’t lose you.”

“And you think I can lose you?” Neil’s gaze jerked to Andrew’s eyes in surprise. “You can’t think you’re the only one who wants this?”

A smile tugged at Neil’s lips and he threw himself at Andrew, who caught him in a hug and fisted his hands in the back of Neil’s shirt. Andrew pressed Neil as close to his chest as he could until he felt the pulse of Neil’s heart against his own. “Let’s go home,” Andrew murmured into his hair.


“Don’t worry,” Andrew said, “Ichirou loves deals and I’m good at making them. It’ll be fine.”

Andrew could acknowledge the selfishness of his plan, but it was reciprocated by Neil, who didn’t once loosen his grip around Andrew’s waist.  

But yeah Andrew is the softer one in the relationship:

- This is a part of him he thinks must be in new bloom. The world says rough, the world says weapon, the world says joyless and so there must be some truth to it, right? Yet he finds himself wanting to cradle Neil’s hands to his chest when he needs steadying from a nightmare, have Neil’s bare wrist pressed flush against his ribs so that he can feel their pulses thrumming against one another. And he can’t sleep at night until he’s ran slow, deliberate fingers through Neil’s soft hair, every comb-through an indulgence, fingers massaging Neil’s delicate scalp, learning the structure, the very shape of it. He wants to press his lips to every scab, every contusion, everywhere Neil tore himself apart in hopes of survival. He wants to alleviate and cradle and absorb. 
- Neil often ends up kicking his own blankets off of himself at night, and in the winters it drives Andrew absolutely crazy, so he’ll wake up a couple of times in the middle of the night just to fix Neil’s blanket and pull the covers back up over his shoulders to keep him from shivering too much, right before closing his arms down over Neil’s middle like a brace like a ring of fire.
- Andrew likes to tease Neil about being clingy, but there are times when it’s difficult to say if there’s something wrong with his system or if being separated from Neil for longer than a few hours at a time has him emptied and aching in more ways than one. One particular evening at Sweetie’s, while watching Neil, Nicky and Kevin engage in some idle conversation he doesn’t remotely care to pay attention to, Andrew subtly tilts his cone in Neil’s direction. Neil regards it a moment before gladly accepting the soft serve and taking a small bite out of it. They share the rest of the cone together. Nicky attempts to tease them about it at one point, but stops mid sentence when he catches Andrew’s murder-glare from his periphery and changes topic. Andrew will never admit it, but once it becomes a quiet, shared ritual; he likes getting a little ice cream on his nose on purpose so that Neil has the urge to kiss it off. Slowly it becomes ok, even in  public.
- There are nights when Andrew lets Neil wrap his arms around his stomach and pull him close, his chin on his shoulder, Andrew’s back digging into Neil’s chest. Andrew sleeps better when he can feel Neil’s heart beating against his spine. It leaves him strangely warm and punch-drunk. 
- Sometimes in the midst of exploring, Andrew will take Neil’s hands and press them to his own diaphragm over his t-shirt so that Andrew’s breaths can do the speaking for the wordless, happy hum that he’s feeling. He likes Neil’s palm resting there, at the centre of him.
- Andrew anchors his fingers in the back collar of Neil’s sweatshirt whenever he feels Neil tense by his side. As soon as Neil’s on edge, all it takes is for Andrew to hook his fingers and give a light tug on his clothes to reground him. Other times he’ll bunch his hand in the hem of Neil’s t-shirt and twist or press a steering hand around the back of his neck, but never to control. Always to guide. Neil will never not be amazed by the impact the slightest contact with Andrew can make on his nervous system.
- Andrew strives to smoothen out his hard edges, catches tail ends of hushed conversations where the Foxes relay mutual shock at noticing the incurvated places where Andrew lets himself cave in, allowing himself to be vulnerable, allowing himself to be worshipped. The devotion and unrepentant trust that builds a monolith within him when Neil fiercely defends him. “I don’t need your useless concern,” he’ll mutter. “Too bad because you’ve got it,” Neil will usually reply. “They have to stop preying on you at every given chance. You’re not a monster to me. You shouldn’t be a monster to anyone. If they fail to understand that, they’ll be sorry.” Andrew’s tone is offhanded. “I don’t care about what they think. Nor should you.” Neil just shakes his head. “We’re family. We have to treat each other like one.” The words bite at the crumbs of Andrew’s nonchalant demeanor and he lets his guard down wholeheartedly. It’s an understanding. He and Neil have something that the rest of the world can only dream of, and nobody can take that away from them.
- Neil often spends time bare-chested with Andrew so that he can further familiarize himself with the feel of Neil’s lacerated skin and by the time they’re falling asleep, Andrew almost invariably ends up wearing Neil’s oversized hoodie he shed earlier to bed.     
 - He doesn’t feel particularly gentle, but Neil insists that he is. “You’re always so careful,” Neil’s voice is thick with some unchained emotion, yet conversational as he runs fingers over Andrew’s split knuckles. The night air is humid and dark, rain-heavy clouds blot out the stars. They feel exhausted after a particularly grueling game, like battlefields after war, but the heat of Andrew’s body is lilting and makes Neil feel kind of dreamy. “With me, I mean. Nobody else has ever been that considerate.” Andrew’s blank amber eyes stare back at him, shone like opals in the campus lights reflecting from down below. “It’s not concern,” Neil nods in agreement. “No, it’s not.” Andrew then wordlessly takes their entwined hands and holds them against the side of his jaw, just below his cheek. Neil reacts with an elaboration. “Even though it’s always yes with you, you understand that some days it might be a difficult yes. You don’t touch to feast, you touch to steady. You make me feel safe and like I exist. You go about it like flower picking, if that even makes any sense. Cautious but hot, never incomplete and still somehow leaving me wanting more.” Now Neil’s smiling and nudging Andrew’s foot with his own. Their hands still twined at Andrew’s throat. “It’s really sweet.” Neil expects a comeback, an evasion, an immediate it is not but instead Andrew’s silence is pensive. Neil can feel him swallow against his fingers. The swift bob up and back down. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to.” He finally declares. Neil’s heart enflames as he leans in, close enough to Andrew’s mouth that he can taste his breath on his tongue, an inch keeping from tipping over into a kiss. “And I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t want to. Because I do. I want so much it scares me. Pretty weird, right? Going from being nothing to wanting so much.” They gaze patiently at one another, not kissing, breaths spreading against lips like ripples in a pond. “What if I stopped asking?” Andrew’s voice is barely a whisper, hoarse; afraid almost. “I would like that, but only if you feel comfortable with a decision so big. You don’t have to make it now. Not for me.” Neil replies. Andrew closes his eyes. “Tell me one final time.” Neil traces one of Andrew’s eyelids with a barely-there finger and takes a breath. “Yes. Eternally yes.” Andrew crushes his lips hard against Neil’s: a chemical reaction. The kiss is a languid drink sipped by a man who’d been thirsting for years. The kiss is a game changer and Neil feels it in every single one of his arteries. If such a gesture could be measured, it’d stretch on for eternity. Neil is so thankful when they come apart for air that he’s stunted speechless. Andrew’s expression, once an uprising, now lays its armor down and then, the barest, shortest of burning smiles. Neil thinks he’ll forget how to inflate his lungs. And sitting there, atop their little pocket dimension of a rooftop, with Neil’s face moon-bright and stained red with surprise, Andrew thinks this gentleness will become a bad habit.

anonymous asked:

Hi, so could you please write 50 from that one hundred ways to say i love you for andreil, I'm not sure I can imagine how it would happen, but I'd love to read it!

Hi anon!! Thanks so much for the prompt!! Here it is and i hope you like it!!

50- “I think you’re beautiful.”

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Alcohol and Neil didn’t mix very well. Neil still wasn’t exactly fond of the damn thing, but it was on occasions like this, with his foxes all huddled in one room, playing some stupid game, that he felt comfortable enough to get drunk. Andrew had agreed on keeping Neil safe and stopping him from saying anything that sober Neil wouldn’t want the rest of the foxes to know, so Neil let the upperclassmen rope him into one of their drinking games.

They were playing “Never Have I Ever” -one of the upperclassmen’s favourite games it seemed- and it was Nicky’s turn to ask the questions (which was never good for anyone).

“Never have I ever kissed a girl.” Everyone took a shot except for Andrew who wasn’t playing. When Neil downed his shot though, everyone was staring at him, most probably expecting a story. Neil just shrugged and giggled at their annoyed looks. Neil really was more of a happy drunk.

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