Fandom: All for the Game/The Foxhole Court Characters/pairings: Neil, Andrew, Kevin, Nicky, Matt/andreil Summary:
A/N: Hope this is okay. I’ve been sleeping a lot so I tried to write this in between during the time I was awake so I hope it’s coherent? Also, I think I’m pleased with the last half or fourth or whatever of the fic. Like, pretty darn pleased. I hope you are, too.
Neil grabbed Andrew’s hand, still reveling in the fact that he was allowed to touch him. He followed him the short distance to the door, ignoring the looks passed between teammates.
“Stay,” Andrew said.
“Why?” Neil tilted his head and leaned in close.
“We won, the team is getting along, they’re celebrating.”
Neil furrowed his brows. “But you’re leaving.”
Andrew shrugged, unbothered. “I’m just tired. I’m going to sleep.”
He stared Neil down until finally admitting, “I think I’m getting a cold. If I get you sick, Kevin might kill me.”
Neil snorted. “Okay, yeah.” He grabbed the back of Andrew’s head and pulled him close. Despite his words, Andrew kissed him back, hands coming up to rest on Neil’s waist. Neil pushed his shoulder gently and Andrew stepped back so that his back was pressed to the door.
“This feels fuckin’ weird,” Mickey said as he and Ian handed over their tickets to the vendor at the stadium doors.
“Why because we’re doing this legally for a change?” Ian grinned, folding the ticket stub and putting it into his back pocket.
“Just ain’t natural,” he said, eyeing Ian up in his tight White Sox t-shirt.
“Yeah, yeah, come on,” Ian said, slinging an arm over Mickey’s shoulders and smiling as he let out merely a small huff of annoyance at the public show of affection.
Ian had actually bought Mickey tickets to a Sox game for his birthday, Mickey had laughed out loud because in all the times they had been to a game they had never once paid for tickets. Being respectable was definitely an adjustment.
They headed in to find their seats and sat down, Mickey stretching out over Ian’s space too. Ian gave him a shove and Mickey grinned before sitting up properly to let Ian sit down.
“Not a bad spot man,” Mickey said, looking out over the playing field.
“Pretty nice day for it too,” Ian said. “You’re going to get sunburnt though, always do.”
“Fuck you I ain’t wearin’ sunblock,” Mickey said and Ian chuckled.
“Yeah, I know, you’re a big tough man who’s just gonna deal with it, fuck the sun,” Ian grinned.
“Fuck the sun,” Mickey repeated, making a motion to the guy walking around selling beer.
“Not to mention you love making me rub the lotion on you when you get burnt,” Ian said and Mickey gave him the finger.
As they waited for the game to start they downed a beer, maybe two, and argued about ball players and tactics. Ian had one of those giddy smiles on and Mickey still thought Ian hadn’t noticed the fact that he was checking him out.
Ian had waited a long time to be able to do this, and Mickey even let him hold his hand discretely while they watched the first and second innings, after that he conceded to letting Ian throw a casual arm around his shoulder.
It was about halfway through the afternoon, during a break in play that the familiar cringe-worthy kiss-cam music began to play and most people’s eyes went to the big screen.
“Saw a video the other day of some guy on the phone refusing to do this shit, mascot came and stole his girl,” Mickey said and Ian chuckled, watching the couples on screen plant awkward kisses on one another.
Mickey took out his phone, clearly disinterested and Ian just took the beer out of his hand and took a swig. As he downed the last of the cup the camera changed and suddenly he was looking up at his own face on the screen, his hand still sitting on Mickey’s shoulder. He grinned, nudging Mickey hard in the side until he looked up.
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered, putting a hand to his forehead as his cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet.
There were hoots and hollers from the seats around them, even one woman yelling ‘kiss’ over and over again. Ian reached out and gently pried Mickey’s hand away from his face before giving him one of his best Ian smiles that he knew Mickey loved, and despite his blushing cheeks, Mickey gave in.
Ian cupped his face in his hand and leant in to press his lips against Mickey’s. The crowd was jeering loudly but Ian’s eyes were closed as he parted his lips and kissed Mickey a little harder, savouring the moment and trying to hide the smile on his face as Mickey kissed him back.
Their tongues met, just a quick moment of teasing before Mickey’s hand was on Ian’s shoulder and he was pushing him back.
“You know you’re a dead man right?” he asked without the slightest hint of malice in his voice.
“Totally worth it though,” he grinned.
As they sat back in their seats the crowd cheered and there were wolf-whistles and appreciative commentary coming from all angles. Mickey was, of course, blushing like the entire stadium had seen him naked, while Ian sat back and just looked at him like he was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen.
“Mouth shut about this Ian,” he said.
“Alright, okay,” he said.
“And get that stupid fucking grin off your face,” he said.
Ian couldn’t do that, so he shut his mouth and put his arm around Mickey’s shoulder giving him a squeeze. Mickey huffed a sigh but leant into Ian’s chest, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the seats that surrounded them.
When the game was over they headed out, a few people giving them looks and unsubtle smiles as they left the stadium. Apparently their kiss had been one of the more memorable ones. Mickey just shot Ian a high eyebrow 'I am so going to kill you’ glare.
They made their way back to the Gallagher’s, summer was pool season after all. Lip was leaning over the edge talking to Fiona who was sitting on the steps with V having a beer in the late afternoon sun.
“Yo, how was the game?” Lip asked.
Mickey took a puff on his cigarette as they walked over. “Shitty, Sox lost,” he said.
“Yeah well no shit, the Sox suck,” he said with a smile.
“Ignore him, he’s just pissed because he lost money on the game,” Ian said and Mickey flipped him off.
“Speaking of, who had money on Mickey coming back three shades redder than when he left?” Lip said and Mickey narrowed his eyes at him.
“That’d be me,” V said. “You ain’t as dirty as you used to be so now you’re just the whitest white boy in America.”
Fiona laughed and Ian tried not to.
“I’ll take my ten bucks now,” she said to Lip who shook his head.
“Excuse me, I think you both owe Debs,” Fiona said, looking through her phone.
“What the fuck are you betting on now?” Mickey said.
“Debs had fifty on the two of you-” Lip started before V yelled over him.
“Hold up, hold up, let 'em watch,” she said as Fiona turned the phone around for them to see.
“Jesus…” Mickey groaned as he came face to face with a kiss-cam video of Ian pulling him in for a kiss and then four seconds of shameless making out.
Fiona and V were grinning and lip was giving the two of them an arrogant smile. Ian leant down and kissed Mickey on the cheek before he was shrugging him off.
“You’re a dead man Ian!” he said, walking past a cackling Fiona and V on the stairs to head inside. “And shut the fuck up Lip!” he yelled before the door slammed behind him.
“You know he might actually kill me,” Ian said.
“Yeah but what kind of family would we be if we didn’t give you shit for that,” Fiona said.
“Just be glad he kisses you like that still,” V said as she watched the video again. “You got a baby and still look so disgusting in love?”
“Come on, get out of those clothes and come join us in the pool,” Fiona said, stripping out of her shirt and hopped off the stairs.
“Let me just go and do damage control,” he said with a smile.
He headed inside to see Mickey standing in the kitchen with a beer.
“Next time, we’re sneakin’ in,” he said.
“Oh come on, they’re just teasing,” Ian said, walking over to him and looping his arms around Mickey’s waist.
“I know, fucking kiss-cam shit,” he grumbled before Ian was sweeping him into another passionate embrace.
“Want me to put some lotion on you? Make you feel better?” he asked through the spaces in their lips.
“Fuck you,” Mickey said, nipping at his bottom lip. “Later, first I’m going swimming.”
“Please don’t try and drown Lip,” Ian asked.
Mickey scoffed, pushing Ian away as he headed towards the door.
“That wasn’t an 'I won’t’ Mick,” Ian said and Mickey grinned and gave his eyebrows a flick before he was gone.
“Yep, he’s totally dead,” Ian said, grabbing a beer before heading out with him.