#Aaron and Nicky are both looking to the sky
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Fluent Freshman - Part 14
PREVIOUS
When Andrew came out of his bedroom to grab a second Allen wrench (he’s working on the frame of the dresser while Neil builds the drawers) he finds quite a few things to irritate him.
1st was the sound of his brother and his cousin arguing loudly. Andrew had been pretty clear that they needed to be quiet that morning but following Andrew’s clearly given guidelines was NEVER either of their strong suits.
2nd was the fact that there was a smell in the air that Andrew was unsure of. It wasn’t a bad smell. It didn’t smell like Nicky had left some component of the breakfast FF had bought to burn. Andrew sniffed the air again and…..lavender? It wasn’t really a smell that existed in the house of three college student boys.
3rd and most irritating was the fact that FF was not where Andrew had left him four hours ago on the couch. Again, Andrew had been pretty clear to both Nicky and Aaron that FF was to be left ALONE. FF hadn’t been able to go to sleep until Andrew had promised that nothing would happen to him while he slept.
He moves towards the kitchen table where Nicky and Aaron are eating some of the sour patch kids that FF had brought back as they argued, “He can’t be serious that Kate and I gross him out more than Andrew and Neil! I’ve seen how fast he walks away when they start getting gross.” He hears Aaron say.
“Aaron I have watched Smithy climb out a second story window because you and Katelyn started making out and he’d have to walk closer to you to go out the door.” Nicky returns. “I think you made him mad when you implied he was grossed out by Andrew and Neil. This is why I get spoon privileges and maybe, if Smithy is feeling forgiving, you can swipe your finger around the bowl.” he points at Aaron.
Andrew hangs back just out of sight.
He knows that FF does not like to be subjected to seeing PDA. A part of him feels…better at the confirmation that it really isn’t because him and Neil are both men. FF has seen them hold hands, kiss chastely, and lean on one another and been unbothered by that it was only when it started getting a little heated that they’d realize that FF had left. FF never makes a scene about it, never scoffs in disgust or squeals in delight he just seems to see where it’s going and will leave if he doesn’t want to see it.
It’s nice.
“Well he’s probably mad at you for waking him up. Andrew said to leave him alone.” Aaron returns.
“He needs breakfast! He also has to take his ulcer meds at the same time so he had to wake up and eat something. He can go back to sleep after!” Nicky defends.
Andrew scowls. Ok. Nicky could live if that was the reason he woke FF up. Still, why the hell is FF in the kitchen and more importantly what bowl and spoon are Aaron and Nicky arguing over?
Andrew tunes his family’s argument out and heads to the kitchen to find FF putting a baking dish into their oven while incense burned on the counter (Andrew now realizes that was the thin box that had been in with the rest of the candy)
He sees the bowl and spoon that Nicky had mentioned and more importantly he can see the chocolate brownie batter on them. Andrew walks over to the bowl and picks it up. He wipes his finger along the inside and…
He closes his eyes for a moment to savor the flavor of the batter. He leans against the counter and his hand brushes against….a five hour energy bottle. Andrew knows he had thrown out the two he had found in FF’s bags before (Ulcer + exhaustion + FF = bad he didn’t need to be a math major like Neil to understand that math.)
Andrew shoves the bottle in his sweatshirt pocket as FF turns around and stares at him passively. FF’s eyebrow’s raise slightly but there’s no other reaction. Andrew considers that, perhaps, FF had wanted to lick the bowl.
He offers the spoon instead knowing it is the better prize but FF is the one who bought the ingredients and mixed together this amazing batter, so he gets first dibs.
“That wouldn’t be good for my stomach.” He declines and Andrew wonders if FF had taken his meds yet or, in his tired state, he’s forgotten to.
“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.
“Hour ago.”
He should go back to sleep after he takes his meds but also knows that FF probably won’t go to sleep until the brownies are done.
“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” FF says and Andrew blinks out of his thoughts.
Andrew decides to go get FF’s meds for him. He’ll make it clear to FF later that the guy doesn’t HAVE to keep making amazing desserts as a thanks for being invited to Columbia. If FF just so happens to WANT to keep making amazing desserts then Andrew isn’t going to be the person that stops him.
He shoves the spoon in his mouth and heads out to go find Smith’s bag and his meds.
Aaron and Nicky see him and both let out outraged noises as their quarry had been stolen.
Andrew ignores them and gets to the bag by the couch.
Who the fuck just has 14 bottles of five hour energy sitting in their bag??
***
When Andrew handed FF his ulcer meds he could admit to feeling grateful even if Andrew had obviously gone through his bag to grab it. He swallows it dry because Andrew is standing by the sink and he knows that until Andrew eats a brownie he is not in a position to ask for favors big or small.
(He learned his lesson from that one time with Captain Neil. If he wants to do anything related to Russian he has to be in the safety of his lofted bed under the cover of night and the cover of his…covers while he reads via flashlight. He will not be caught so flat footed again! These are all necessary precautions!)
Andrew seems to very much want for FF to be in prime condition for the hunt. Part of him wonders if he’ll be released amongst other game animals and FF had never felt more jealous of the turkey who got pardoned by the president the day before. Why does that stupid bird get all the luck? Where’s his presidential pardon?
That grateful feeling evaporates into a dust cloud as Andrew lifts a plastic bag, “Stop drinking these.” Andrew hisses, “They’re going to make your ulcer worse.” He points at FF.
“I need them.” He says.
“For what?”
“Five hours of energy at a time.”
“Pull out the brownies and go back to sleep Smith.”
“They still have 10 minutes.”
“Then I’ll pull them out in 10 minutes.”
“There’s a final step that I have to do once they’re fresh out of the oven.”
“What is it.”
“Smith Family Baking secret. I don’t make the rules.” FF gestures towards where the incense continues to burn, “Great Gran’s recipe and methods cannot be shared with non-blood relatives. My mom wasn’t even let in on the secret.”
Thank god
Andrew glowers at him.
Oh God
“It’ll be just 20 more minutes.”
Andrew’s eyes narrow at him.
“They’ll be worth it.” He pleads.
Andrew rolls his eyes.
“Go to sleep when they’re done. Take Nicky’s room.” Andrew commands.
“Take Nicky’s what?” Nicky leans into the kitchen.
“Smith is going to go back to sleep on your bed.”
“Yeah you look like shit Smithy. Don’t worry, unlike Neil and Andrew’s bed mine is all safe.”
Nicky zips out of the kitchen with Andrew hot on his heels. Nicky really is a good friend.
He performs the sacred rites necessary upon the brownies when they come out of the oven and takes a small corner piece to taste test and -
He closes his eyes and clasps his hands together in prayer.
‘Thank you Great Gran.’ He prays earnestly.
‘Remember to wash behind your ears’ he thinks he hears a whisper of grandmotherly advice in return.
That was probably normal.
He extinguishes the incense.
He cuts up the brownies, finds a decently sized plate, and sets the brownies out on the counter before he starts to work on doing the dishes. Yeah Yeah he could have been cleaning while he waited for the brownies to cook! That’s what you always do right? Clean as you go?
Well have you ever been baking brownies that might be the difference between life and death? No? Well then FF is just going to have to stop you right there because he had the oven light on and his eyes GLUED to these fudgey squares.
Who knows what the cousins’ oven would do? He doesn’t know this oven. He and this oven are taking their first whirl together and it could decide to turn on him at any time. They don’t have the brotherhood that he and the oven at his Gran’s house have built over the years! This oven could be one of those ones that maintain their temperature by turning on the broiler! He felt like he could never again recklessly trust an oven after he tried to make crescent rolls in the Viking Oven at his step father’s house and had gotten them back blackened by the broiler.
That oven had been the SINGLE thing he had been excited about during the kitchen remodel which means naturally it was the thing that had betrayed him.
He lets himself think of all the ways he hates the Viking brand as he finishes the dishes and puts everything back to where they belong.
He walks out of the kitchen with the platter of brownies and sets them down on the table where Aaron and Nicky are sat. “Oh my god they smell amazing.” Nicky says and immediately his hand is shooting towards the plate and picking up a corner piece.
FF valiantly resists the urge to slap his and Aaron’s hands away. He needs these to compel Andrew into letting him live.
“Oh wow, those do smell good.” He hears Captain Neil’s voice and when FF turns around Captain Neil and Andrew are both there. It is only in that moment that he realizes that he should have bought some vanilla ice cream to go with these.
Andrew’s love of ice cream was not unknown, probably even infamous. He was the man who, during the summer training, had been so possessive over the soft serve machine in the cafeteria that anyone who wanted any had to ask Captain Neil to get them a bowl or risk being threatened.
He starts towards the door. At this point Target probably isn’t even that bad, probably just some irate people who didn’t come with the rush and are mad they missed out, maybe some officers talking to witnesses on who threw cast the first Wii remote, and workers who will hate him marginally less (unless he gets the same check out person and they remember him (unlikely))
His progress is arrested by a hand grabbing his hoodie.
“Where are you going?”
“I forgot Ice Cream.” And he could get a five hour energy to slam on the way back home.
He then finds himself being pulled down an unfamiliar hallway.
Ah, the anticipation had been killing him more than the fear of his demise. His brownies had not contained the requisite amount of grandmotherly love to save him he had been relying on extract (Great Gran’s spirit guiding his hands) instead of organic (he does not have grandchildren or children for that matter)
Maybe ice cream would have been the deciding factor? He’ll never know.
He closes his eyes and lets himself be dragged. He’s too tired to fight.
A door opens, and he finds himself sat on a bed.
Weird.
“You are falling asleep standing up. Go back to sleep. I’ll leave you at Eden’s if you fall asleep in the booth.” Andrew threatens.
What.
FF knows about Eden’s.
He has heard about it from Nicky trying to get him to agree to go but he’s pretty sure it’d be like introducing an Amazon rainforest frog to the Sahara desert in terms of survivability for him.
“We’re going to Eden’s tonight?” He manages to ask.
Andrew raises an eyebrow at him but answers, “Yes.”
“I’m not really interested in clubs. I don’t drink out in public or dance.”
“Neither does Neil. I just drink. We can stay in the booth.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your time with Captain Neil.”
“It’s fine, neither of us hate spending time with you.”
“I don’t have clothes for a place like that.”
“Nicky grabbed some for you. You’re coming tonight. Go to sleep.”
With that Andrew pulls Nicky’s curtains close, shuts off the light, and closes the door.
FF, always very much like a bird when placed into a suddenly dark environment, starts to feel some of the exceptional sleepiness that he’d been pushing off through sheer manic desperation to earn another day of life.
He lays down in Nicky’s bed and is tired enough that he can ignore the sheer amount of body glitter on the sheets (does Nicky excrete it like sweat??) and starts to let himself drift off to sleep.
Eden’s might be something completely out of his wheelhouse but-
A conversation with Nicky from when he’d been trying to get FF to go comes into his mind and he sits straight up in bed as Nicky’s words roll around in his head like stale hotdogs at a gas station.
“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.”
Eden’s is a Secondary Location with a BASEMENT.
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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#Fluent Freshman AU#Andrew heads back out to try one of those brownies#Aaron and Nicky are both looking to the sky#'what the fuck did he DO to these? I would know if there was drugs in them right?' Aaron asks#'Is it straight that I want to kiss his grandma's hand?' Nicky asks#'It's his great grandma's recipe so it'll have to be her grave' - Aaron#'Fuck it. I'll dig up her grave and kiss her skeleton hand. These are divinely inspired.' - Nicky#Andrew tries one#Neil saved him two corner pieces#This is why Andrew intends to spend his life with this man#It's perfect#It's not like box brownies where it's all sugar and sweetness#it's bitter it's sweet is that a note of....spice? it's complex. It makes Andrew want to get a shovel and help Nicky desecrate a grave#He'll get in on the skeleton hand kiss#Maybe he'll take Neil and FF to the really cool speakeasy in the basement of Edens#It's quieter down there which he thinks FF would like#He doesn't have to watch out for Kevin tonight either#That's a good plan#Nicky and Aaron can dance and Andrew can show his appreciation for good baked goods to his friend#Nicky is not allowed near the Speakeasy nor is he allowed to know about it because it's suppose to be a secret#Nicky's terrible at keeping secrets!#He couldn't keep one if his or someone else's life depended on it#So Nicky thinks it's a straight swingers club down there#Which he has zero interest in#AFTG#AFTG AU#AFTG OC#AFTG shitpost#FF - Pt. 14
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aftg soul healing headcanons
speed run
matt and dans 2 kids running around at fox get togethers while having everyone wrapped around their fingers. matt chases them while Dan laughs at the scene with a hand on her growing stomach
kevin running off the court and hugging wymack after getting gold at the olympics. they hold each other tightly as the crowd screams
neil and andrew sprawled on their couch in their new home with the cats. it’s the middle of the summer and Andrew is eating ice cream while neil munches on some fruit. the box fan rattles in the corner
renee wearing a sundress while walking along the beach. she’s smiling softly as she recalls every person she has helped
allison relaxing in her office after a long day of work. she looks out the window at the bustling city and tears up at how far she has come
(theyre both looking at the sky at the same time, of course)
aaron graduating medical school and all of the foxes are there. nicky cries the whole time as he clings to eric. Wymack is one of the last people to hug aaron and he whispers “i’m proud of you son” in his ear
nicky and Eric get married in Germany after graduation. the foxes show up and the twins seem… softer than usual
jean finally gets to retire from exy. it’s a wave of relief as he walks off the court for the last time. jeremy embraces him on the sidelines and they make their way home
#aftg#all for the game#the foxhole court#tfc#neil josten#tkm#trk#andrew minyard#matt boyd#dan wilds x matt boyd#dan wilds#andreil#allison reynolds#renee walker#Wymack#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#jean moreau x jeremy knox#jean moreau#jeremy knox#jerejean#Kevin day#aftg headcanon
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Scene from my Monster hunting au!
The sound of thick leather steel toed shoes echoed through the hall the kind of shoes that demanded respect and attention whenever the wearer was speaking, the only other sound's the quiet whispers of the crowd and the slight squeaking of chairs on the polished wooden floors, the marks ingrained into the wood combining with the peeling flaking paint that fluttered down from the ceiling like snowflakes from the sky. The hum of whispering soon died out as the stage creaked and protested under the weight that was placed down upon it the headmaster stood just a little to the side, an accumulation of sweat on his forehead from the heat and every so often pulled at the red tie hung around his neck.
Great red curtains hung low from the ceiling, the colour faded from the years, pieces of dust clinging from it. All eyes trained on the figure that stepped out onto the stage badge glimmering in the lights that placed a spit light on him, the small golden paw shaped brooch taking pride of place on the middle of the left side of their chest, a wide smile set into pale flesh moustache curled up in a unnerving way. “Good morning children…” Mr Peterson purred tapping the microphone once eliciting a horrible high pitched whine to ring through the hall making Nicky wince resting his head on Aarons shoulder inhaling his signature scent of dirt, fruit and cherry wood. “I’m here to discuss something important with you” Mr Peterson continued leaning over the podium slightly, badge in full view he motioned to it grinning like a child on christmas.
From the back row Nicky peaked over Maritzias shoulder spotting the teachers sitting on either side of Mr Peterson who continued to ramble about how ‘it was such a honour to be here” they all looked rather bored with the same bland neutral look on their face. Nicky continued to stare before Maritzia turned round and grinned at him whispering scooting back on her chair as quietly as possible “after this do you want to go to the treehouse?” Nicky smiled back flashing her his teeth momentarily leaning forward “yeah!... we can take the bikes” he turned to Ray who was lost in space tuning out Mr Peterson's rambling completely her far off stare focused on a poster on the wall about ‘Zero tolerance bullying’. Nicky didn’t seem to notice as he continued to talk to her “you will love it!” Ray seemed to snap out of her trance with a quick jerk of her head, her eyes trained on him “sure!…what's that?” Nicky giggled and leaned back in his seat crossing his arms “you get to see our base” he whispered excitedly and Ray couldn’t help but smile at his antics “sure” Nicky nodded his smile getting so big Ray worried it would split his face in two “I’ll pick you up on my bike after school-”
“Nicholas”
It was as if someone was dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard right next to his ears, the horrible noise rattling around inside of his brain. He had always hated it when someone used his full name. His name had come out too smooth, almost unnaturally making goosebumps rise on his skin every muscle tensing along with it. His instincts screamed at him to run and not interact with him but everyone was staring now, the eyes acting like some sort of spotlight highlighting his shame. Both Maritzia and Ray looked like deer in headlights but they couldn’t do anything, only stare ahead their mouths agape like that of a fish. Aaron is staring at him wide eyed now, his emerald eyes flickering between his dad and Nicky nervously sweating the light making it glisten. Mr Peterson continued to try and beckon Nicky forward, his finger drawing him forward on some sort of invisible string, never breaking eye contact, his eyes practically seemingly glowing with something…malicious? like some horrible beast was looking through the windows to its vessel but Nicky could be mistaken.
SCCCCCRRRRRREEEEECHHHHH
The sound of his chair scraping on the polished floor echoed through the room making him grimace shuffling awkwardly past people who pulled in their knees trying to give him enough wiggle room. He made it to the end of the row and padded towards the steps onto the stage, his shoes squeaking against the flooring. “Come on…I don’t bite'' Mr Peterson joked, a deep chuckle erupting from his throat like the sound of a starting car low and rumbling eliciting some nervous laughter from the audience to compliment it fearing that he would in fact bite them if they didn’t. A single bead of sweat trailed down Nicky's face and he swallowed thickly his Adam's apple bobbing up and down “I…I don’t know about that” he stuttered out a weak attempt at some humour to get that awful grin to leave Mr Peterson's face. Nicky broke eye contact for a second but still felt those green eyes bore into the side of his head almost as if he was trying to read his mind, digging through his brain to find all his dirty little secrets. Mr Peterson let out a loud boisterous laugh. It was high pitched and eerily resembled the howl of a wolf…animalistic and hungry ready to tear him apart and gobble him up. “Awwwww there's no need to be afraid!” Mr Peterson extended his hand at lightning speed gripping Nicky's shoulder in a vice-like grip, his whole body tensing up like he had been frozen to the spot.
From the accumulation of students Maritizia leaned over to Ray her hair brushing against Ray’s skin tickling her neck. “He's freezing up” she hissed but was quickly silenced by a teacher who made a loud “SHHH!” The noise forcing her to submit and lean back into her own seat watching as her friend squirmed around on stage like a worm left out on a hot sidewalk in the summer heat. “Now…since you and your friends decided to talk” Mr Peterson started flashing Aaron a displeased look that could make the mountains quake in fear making the young Peterson sink into his seat hoping the world would swallow him up. “How about you repeat the number of my agency?” Mr Peterson asked a demanding undertone that left no room for argument.
Nicky swallowed thickly again feeling as if the air was being drawn from the room when he didn’t answer Mr Peterson gave his shoulder a rough squeeze “go on…” he encouraged. Nicky turned to face the hall taking a deep breath in “...1223-445-56…” he started before trailing off his mind going blank as he scrambled to remember the last digit making a few incoherent noises sounding a lot like he was having a stroke. He could see some of his classmates stare sympathetically while other griminced pleased it wasn’t them on the stage.
“Four.” Nicky almost jumped out of his skin hearing Mr Peterson right behind him the feeling of his breath against his neck. They guy seemed to have the knack for scaring people. “The last digits four” Nicky nodded his head jerking up and down in an almost robotic fashion as he desperately tried to move his body despite its previous lock up. “Y…yes” he confirmed, smiling awkwardly “and why would you call that?” Mr Peterson pushed his grip tightening even more, a weak whimper escaping Nicky's lips, didn't this guy know when to stop?!
Apparently not! As he waited for his answer he began tapping his fingers in a rhythmic motion in some sort of distorted tune. “I…if you have seen any sort of suspicious activity o…or have an infestation”. Mr Peterson nodded slowly, smiling and ruffling Nicky’s hair “very good! Such a smart boy…it’s no surprise since your mother is the top researcher” Nicky blushed embarrassed and tried to leave thinking his job here was done and he could disappear back into the background but he was pulled back by the collar of his shirt like some sort of dog. “Do you know why every household has that number?” Mr Peterson asked the students, raising an eyebrow when no one answered his grip still strong on the back of Nickys shirt preventing him from bolding. He waited a few more moments before answering the question himself “to keep you all safe! A safer town means a safer community!” He called out receiving only a few murmurs of “yes” but it didn’t seem to dampen his mood as Mr Peterson continued to look out, staring at Nicky out of the corner of his eye like a wolf cornering a fluffy, innocent…defenceless bunny rabbit.
Something deep inside of Nicky didn’t trust those words
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NMFTG ch 18
Spooky Scary Seth Schemes
ao3: post ravens game party and Halloween
Neil had nothing to do with it. He’d been minding his business on Abby’s couch, watching the others drink after the Raven’s game. He’d been quiet. Unobtrusive. And yet, he was still getting dragged into the middle of everyone’s shit.
It started with Seth doing three shots in a row and then staggering to his feet to go stand in front of Andrew. Each action more concerning than the last.
“Bitch-ass-” Seth cleared his throat, shook his head. “Andrew, Minyard, what would it take for you to let us come to your club on Halloween?”
Neil wondered if Seth had taken one too many exy balls to the head when no one was looking.
Everyone started talking at once.
“WHAT?!” Nicky yelled over everyone. “You know it’s a gay club right?”
“WHATEVER IT TAKES!” Seth yelled back. “We need to beat those bird fucks into the ground and that means being a team!”
“Exy,” Kevin said with a grand gesture of his hand. He turned to Andrew. “Exy?” He repeated.
“Your lack of concern for the sport was your only redeeming quality,” Andrew said, he looked at his glass for a moment, considering. Everyone was silent. “You can all come,” he decided, shocked glee took up half the room. “If Neil agrees- costumes are required.” Andrew added.
Everyone fell apart, Andrew drinking his whiskey without a care as the room devolved into complaints and frowns. Except for Aaron, who looked at Neil in fear.
“Neil, Neil-” He started to beg.
Neil wanted nothing to do with this. He wanted no part in halloween or in being an ultimatum. The cries and sad groans of the majority of the room knew that. Which was precisely why Andrew had pinned it all on him. He had bet on Neil loving nothing more than not doing things.
Only Aaron knew.
Only Aaron knew that there was one more thing Neil enjoyed far more than isolating himself and minding his own business.
Annoying Aaron Minyard.
“You know what?” Neil said, making direct eye contact with Aaron. “Just for you Aaron, I’ll agree to go.”
Aaron started swearing as everyone else cheered. Andrew’s face twitched.
Nicky and Matt both jumped and tackled Neil off the couch. “No, no, thank Aaron, this is on him.” Neil yelled from under his teammates.
“I HATE YOU.”
Neil already knew that both Minyards were going to take issue, but he would stand by his decision. Besides there was a solid chance someone would kill him before Halloween anyways. And agreeing had increased the likelihood of it being Andrew or even Aaron maybe.
Later, when the team stopped mauling Neil and went back to drinking and being obnoxious, Neil saw Andrew slip outside to smoke. Whatever Andrew’s response was, Neil wanted to get it out of the way, so he too slipped out of Abby’s house.
“Tell me, Neil, will you be dressing as one of your cartoon characters or another one of your identities?”
“I’ll be a ghost, I think I have an extra white sheet back at the dorms.”
“Torturing Aaron, cutting up bedsheets, I seem to recall you making promises to not cause problems?”
“I would never say that, my existence is a problem, can I have a cigarette?”
Andrew put his entire hand over Neil’s face to shove him away. “Go be a problem somewhere else, before I kill you.”
Neil momentarily debated the merits of dying right then and there, but went inside anyways.
The atmosphere was sky high considering they’d versed the Ravens and Neil didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol, because Kevin hadn’t been negative about anyone’s playing, or because Neil had agreed to go to Edens.
Neil figured that if at any moment on Halloween he decided he regrets agreeing it would be easy to get Andrew to put him out of his misery. Or maybe even Aaron, considering how much he hated everyone.
Neil decided to put it out of his mind and find a corner of Abby’s to pass out in until it was time to go back to the dorms. He sat himself down on a chair and shut his eyes.
Apparently everyone was staying the night. A fact Neil didn’t realize until he woke up the next morning still on Abby’s recliner. With a crick in his neck and the site of all the upperclassmen passed out around the room.
Neil picked his way across the room, avoiding stepping on Matt, Dan, and Seth- as they had taken the floor. Allison and Renee sharing the couch.
He found Abby in the kitchen drinking coffee and accepted a cup from her before heading out. She informed him that the cousins and Kevin were upstairs. The walk back was maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. Neil didn’t care, he was peopled out and fairly confident that a morning with all of the Foxes in one house would be one he’d regret.
He’d go back to the dorms and catch up on the schoolwork that the Ravens had made impossible to focus on.
And that’s what he did, powering through his various beloved math assignments before starting the trudge through an english assignment. Which proved less to be identifying metaphors in poetry and more a test of Neil’s patience.
The upperclassmen came back while he was still staring at the paper. Neil thinks someone might have asked him something, but he could not hear a word over his own grumbling as flipped back and forth between pages in the textbook.
A steady, hard knock- completely unfamiliar and unrecognizable as any of his teammates- startled Neil out of his focus.
His heart rate immediately jumped and Neil got up, opening the door, his entire body tense.
The man who had knocked was a cop. He wasn’t in uniform, just jeans and a button up, but he stood like a cop. He also had those shiny cop shoes. And Neil wasn’t a complete moron.
Neil immediately started the shut the door. The cop held up a hand and kept it from shutting.
“Hey now, I’m just looking for Andrew Minyard.”
“Don’t know him, have a nice day.” Neil tried to shut the door again.
“Kid, I know the Exy team is on this floor,” the officer struggled to keep the door open and his voice even. “Just tell me where to find Andrew, I just wanna talk to him.”
“Wow, that’s great, good luck, good bye.”
Dan opened the door across the hall, looking at the cop and Neil.
“Hey, is everything okay out here?” She asked, her voice shifting in Captain mode.
“Hi, good afternoon, I’m looking for Andrew Minyard?” Officer Fuckwad said.
“And you are?” Dan asked.
Officer Fuckface turned around and held out a hand. “Officer Higgins with Oakland PD, I just want to talk to him, if you could let me know where to find him that’d be great.”
Dan looked at Officer Higgins hand for a moment before shaking it, her smile strained. “Well, he’s out at the minute, but why don’t you give me your number and I’ll tell you when he’s back.”
Neil wasn’t sure what was worse, a cop in the dorms or out loose on campus without supervision. He also had the sneaking suspicion that Dan wasn’t going to call Andrew to let him know about the cop. And that Neil would get the blame for this surprise somehow.
Neil pulled out his phone with a scowl, it was on low battery but still operational. And jabbed at it until it was calling Andrew Minyard.
Dan looked at him in concern and Neil gave her back a dead look.
He picked up on the second ring, “meep, meep,” Andrew said. “You know, Casper, I didn’t think you knew how phones worked.”
“Casper?” Neil asked. “Wait, nevermind, there’s a cop at the dorms looking for you.”
“What?”
“His name’s Officer Higgins, don’t be surprised.” Neil hung up the phone.
“I thought you didn’t know Andrew?” Officer Higgins asked.
Neil debated whether or not the man would be willing to stand in the hall for however long it took Andrew to get back. But ultimately decided cops weren’t the patient type.
“Yeah, I just remembered,” Neil held open the door. “Oh, won’t you please come in Officer?”
Higgins went into the dorm and Neil gestured to the couch. Watching him until he sat down on it.
“Neil-” Dan started.
“Cop stays where I can see him,” Neil told her, grabbing a textbook from his desk to prop open the door.
“I guess, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Higgins said.
“Take it however you want,” Neil shrugged.
He leaned himself against his desk, not wanting to sit down or relax in the slightest while he waited for Andrew to come deal with his problem.
Dan sighed heavily and shut the door to her dorm, coming into Neil’s and leaning next to him.
“So, what are you doing out of California?” She asked in a light tone.
“I’m on unofficial business, just need to talk to Andrew where he can’t hang up on me.”
“Is he in some kind of trouble, Officer?” She asked.
“No, not at all. Like I said, I just want to talk.”
Neil thought South Carolina was an awfully long way to go from California for ‘just a talk,’ but he’d already involved himself enough. Especially considering the cop was from the state Neil had ‘unlawfully disposed of a body’ and all.
So, Neil kept his mouth shut and his eyes on Higgins while Dan made small talk about sports and planes and shit.
It only took Andrew fifteen minutes to come stomping down the hall.
“Oh, Pig Higgins,” Andrew had a manic grin as he appeared in the open doorway. “You are a long, long way from home.”
“Andrew,” Higgins said. “We need to talk.” Higgins stood up from the couch. Neil and Dan both stood up straight. Neil, ready to usher everyone out at the first opportunity. Dan, ready to interfere- probably- like the good team captain she is.
“We talked, remember?” Andrew said. “I told you not to bother me.”
“You said not to call you,” Higgins said. “Just give me a few minutes, won’t you, for old times’ sake? I came all the way out here to see you. Doesn’t that get me any sort of consideration?”
Andrew shook his head with a laugh. Neil wondered when all of these people would get the fuck out of his dorm. He’d thought, surely, Andrew wouldn’t want to talk to the cop in front of him and Dan. But Andrew stayed in the doorway.
“You didn’t come out here for me,” Andrew said. “You came on a witch hunt I already said I wouldn’t help you with. Give me one good reason to not cut your throat, would you?”
Dan hissed under her breath, but Higgins looked completely unfazed by the threat. “I was wrong. I know that now. The investigation on him turned up nothing.”
“I warned you,” Andrew said, unsympathetic.
“We were looking at the wrong person, weren’t we? I think I’ve got it right this time, but I can’t do anything without a complaining witness. The other kids won’t speak up. They don’t trust me that much. You’re all I’ve got.”
Regret, regret. Why did Neil bother? To get long conversations about things he didn’t understand and close proximity to cops. He should have shoved the cop into Dan’s dorm room and let the upperclassmen interrogate him.
“Kids? Kids, plural. You only mentioned one last time, Pig. How many are you talking about? How many has she had?” Andrew asked.
“You wouldn’t care about the number unless there really was something there for me to find,” Higgins detected, wow, what a cop. “Just yes or no, Andrew. That’s all I want. That’s all I need right now. I’ll give you a name, you give me an answer, and I promise I’ll go away.”
“You promise. You’ll break that promise inside a week, Pig. Don’t pretend otherwise. Do I have to walk you out to make sure you leave or will you-”
“Drake,” Higgins interrupted.
“How many kids, Pig?” Andrew asked after a long moment.
“Six, since you,” Higgins said.
Andrew turned and left, Higgins following after him. The stairwell door slamming behind them both. Neil looked out into the hallway and saw both Aaron and Nicky standing with baffled and worried expressions.
Neil decided it wasn’t his business if Andrew killed a cop and went to sit back down at his desk.
“You said this wasn’t going to be a problem,” Dan said to Nicky.
“I said if it was, Andrew would handle it,” Nicky argued.
“Out, out, do this away from me, it isn’t my problem.” Neil shooed Dan out of his dorm.
“You involved yourself, I was gonna make Higgins wait at the coffee shop!”
“Oh, great, a cop loose on campus looking for Andrew, that won’t cause problems.” Neil gently pushed Dan the rest of the way out the door.
“What do you know about this, Josten?” Aaron asked, in a tight voice.
“Nothing, and I’m keeping it that way.” Neil shut the door behind Dan, resolute in his mantra of minding his own terminal bullshit.
After Neil decided his English assignment was as done as it was gonna get, he went out back to smoke in the grass. Andrew was already there.
Neil sat down and lit his cigarette, taking one long inhale to get it going before just holding it in front of his face.
“It’s your turn,” Andrew said after a while.
Neil looked at him. Andrew was still on his pills, tapping his hands against his restless legs as he smoked. Andrew didn’t look at Neil, just kept looking out at the field.
“Okay,” Neil looked away from Andrew. “Who’s Casper?”
Andrew laughed. “A cartoon ghost.”
That tracked. Neil wondered if Andrew would run out of nicknames before Neil died.
“It's your turn.” Neil said.
“You called me.” Andrew didn’t ask.
But Neil decided to answer anyway. “If you kill me, I’d like to incite it on purpose. The cop knocked on my door first.”
“What is your issue with phones?’ Andrew finally asked.
Neil contemplated arguing about what constitutes a question. But decided to just let Andrew have an extra, considering earlier. “Phone calls have never been a good thing; I threw my last one into the ocean.”
“And you call me dramatic.”
“You are, you’re whole,” Neil gestured to the entirety of Andrew's person. “The all black clothes, the knives, that I’m sure you keep next to a thesaurus- considering how you talk. Dragging me out to your secret lair in Columbia-” Andrew shoved him. “Drama queen.” Neil told him.
“Ask your question and stop being a nuisance.”
“Why are you letting everyone come to Halloween?”
“It won’t make a difference,” Andrew shook his head. “If the idiots want to try and fail at being a team they can do it where I get discounts on alcohol.”
Neil figured that was fair enough.
There were a few differences to Neil’s second trip to Columbia. For one, he was in the back of Allison’s car- with Allison, Renee, and Seth. And not sat between the Minyards as they tried to ineffectually kill him via elbow. He had all the room in the backseat, with an entire empty seat between Neil and Seth.
The next difference was that apparently, someone had to call up Sweeties and reserve a table. Although with ten people that did make sense. They all squished thigh-to-thigh around the reserved table and made awkward conversation.
Anytime anyone tried speaking to Aaron, he’d kick Neil under the table. Some sort of ‘you did this’ tax, Neil supposed.
Andrew seemed to only be talking to his family and Renee. But he was still on his meds so he had the energy to spare answering direct questions from the others.
Neil had carefully, thoughtfully, considered taking advantage of the sheet over his head and going to sleep. But decided to pay attention, due mostly to boredom and a post game adrenaline buzz still working through his system.
Seth seemed fully set on making everyone talk to each other. He not only asked Andrew and Aaron direct questions, but also Nicky. Somehow listening attentively as Nicky talked about his major.
“Neil, did you ever do Halloween as a kid?” Seth asked, when he decided it was time to ask Neil a question.
Did watching actual real life murder and dismemberment count? “No,” Neil said.
“Were your parents Mormon or something?” Allison asked.
“No, they were not Mormon. I just wasn’t allowed outside- on my own.” He doesn’t know why he elaborates. He almost ends the sentence with allowed outside, some don’t alert a mandated reporter instinct kicking in to change the end at the last second like a good little mafia kid.
“Neil, sweetie, with everything I hear about your parents,” Allison said. “They sound like joyless dirtbags. Even my useless parents let me go trick or treating.”
“Allison,” Dan admonished.
“I’m not arguing,” Neil shrugged. He definitely never saw either of them happy. “Trick or treating seems frivolous, but dirtbag is probably too nice of a word.” If the Foxes called Andrew a monster, he can’t imagine what they’d call his parents.
“I- I can’t tell- Neil, please take off your costume. I can’t take the two eye holes seriously,” Nicky begged.
“No, if I have to wear a costume, you all need to deal with me wearing it.” Neil thought his was better than everyone else’s anyways. His ghost costume was just a sheet with holes, yes, but it offered full coverage. And Neil had been under the impression costumes were supposed to disguise you. Everyone else was very clearly themselves but in silly outfits.
Dan and Matt were dressed as greek gods. Allison and Seth as the couple from that musical Grease. Renee was a fairy. Nicky was a construction worker. Kevin was a roman warrior. Aaron a doctor- which really? He was basically just himself in a few years. And Andrew was a prison inmate, so- himself a few years ago. Neil had the only good costume.
Conversation somehow managed to flow. A stilted, meandering flow, as the Foxes dodged topics with all the grace of a car crash. But a flow nonetheless.
Around dessert, Andrew slowed down considerably. Beginning his withdrawals. The upperclassmen, who Neil guessed only saw this at games and interrogations, all gave curious looks. But no one explained anything, a move Neil could respect.
Kevin somewhat discreetly offered Andrew his pills, Andrew threatened to stab him. Andrew got a text, Nicky very undiscreetly asked who it was. It was “Bee,” the psychiatrist?
Everyone started talking about the three adults in charge of the team. Yes, the psychiatrist.
Neil wouldn’t expect Andrew to be so familiar with her. But that cop had known Andrew well enough to communicate with him semi-effectively. So clearly Andrew’s standards were different then Neil’s. A nickname alone meant nothing, Andrew was allergic to real names. But texts of halloween costumes, well that spoke to fondness. More than tolerating even.
Neil knew, quite unwillingly, that Andrew had to see Dobson once a week as part of his probation. But now, Neil entertained briefly, over his half-eaten ice cream, that Andrew did so somewhat willingly? It seemed absurd. But so did Neil wearing a sheet over his head in fucking Columbia. So maybe Neil should stop expecting logic when it comes to the Foxes.
They all got back into their respective cars to go to Eden’s Twilight. The bouncer raised an eyebrow at the number of people behind Andrew, but didn’t ask. The Foxes followed Andrew into the club and around as they searched for an empty table.
Andrew gestured to one with two empty seats and then moved to go to the bar. Neil had the misfortune of being in his path and got dragged along by the sheet to help with drinks.
Eden’s Twilight was still loud and obnoxious but the sheet that made up Neil’s shitty ghost costume acted as a decent barrier between him and the club.
That guy that drugged Neil was still behind the bar, greeting Andrew with a grin. “All grown up and making friends?” he asked. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’ll tip you double if you never say such stupid things again.”
“Who’s in the sheet?” The bartender asked.
“A ghost,” Andrew answered.
The bartender started in on the drinks when Neil thought to ask.
“No one’s getting drugged right?”
“Not unwillingly,” Andrew answered.
The bartender finished placing too many drinks on the troy and Andrew picked it up, nodding his head for Neil to lead the way back.
They made it back to the table in one piece and Neil watched long enough to realize, unsurprisingly, that Andrew had told the truth and the drugs were in fact optional. Neil would have been more surprised back in September, but Andrew had kept his word on a lot since the last trip to Eden’s. Enough that Neil could admit that night was a poor example of him.
Neil sipped at a soda and watched the crowds for the most part, the Foxes weren’t even really talking just working through the pile of drinks like it was their job.
It was only after Andrew had taken off with Renee to get more drinks that Dan turned to Nicky to ask about Andrew being sober. At least that’s what Neil thought she asked, it was hard to hear anyone over the music.
“He’s not sober,” Nicky said. “Andrew hasn’t been sober in years.”
Well Nicky said a lot more than that, as Nicky liked to do. But that was all Neil could make out from the edge of the group.
Andrew and Renee came back with more drinks.
Everyone but Renee and Neil drank. And everyone but Renee, Neil, Matt, and Seth took cracker dust.
The table dispersed. Most of the Foxes going to dance, leaving behind Neil, Andrew, Renee, and Kevin.
“Why don’t you drink?” Kevin asked, leaning in to make himself heard.
“Alcohol has a time and a place,” is how Neil decided to answer.
“And that isn’t the place and time it’s sold?’ Kevin asked, both Renee and Andrew paying attention to the conversation.
“Not for me.”
And again Neil wasn’t sure why he was answering, why he was wearing this stupid costume.
But as Renee and Andrew started discussing some book they’ve both read, and Kevin sipped his drink. And Neil looked up at the crowd, picking out the other Foxes as they danced. Neil realized that he feels… content.
Neil tapped his thumb against his soda can and thinks maybe he dreamed this. Freezing in Arizona on some quiet night, while his back ached with the lack of his mother. Or maybe he never made it out of Baltimore. And instead of showing him ten sad bloody years as he died, his brain invented this awful, beautiful thing. Because Neil isn’t just content, he’s happy. Or as close to it as he’s ever been.
And that’s worse than loud music and too many people. It’s worse than dying. And Neil looked down at his glass but found his eyes searching out the Foxes again. And he doesn’t know what to do but he decides to blame Seth.
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things kevaaron have posted about each other on their stories
hell yeah you know what time it is
Things Kevin has posted about Aaron:
a picture of Aaron hunched over a textbook, glasses on, squinting at his notebook in the light of a lamp. the words ‘Someone tell him to stop studying and come to bed’ go across the screen.
Aaron in 3D glasses, scowling at the camera. ‘He has no idea how stupid he looks right now’
Aaron asleep, wrapped around a body pillow. ‘Dumbass’ (little do they know right after that was taken Kevin climbed into the bed and took the pillows place)
Aaron in the backseat of the mas, frowning at being stuck in between Kevin and nicky.
a video of Aaron with a butterfly on his finger. He looks very confused but stays still and tries to block the butterfly from the wind. ‘Why did a butterfly just fly over and land on him? It’s not like he’s sweet.’
Aaron lying on a pool chair, leaned all the way back, reading a textbook. ‘We’re at the pool and he’s reading his textbook… for fun.’
Aaron playing skee ball. ‘He doesn’t miss-‘
Aaron collapsed on the floor of the locker room after a particularly difficult game. ‘I’m proud of you. We wouldn’t have pulled out the win without you.’
Aaron coming down an escalator at the airport. ‘Never knew I could be so relived to have someone in my sight. despite my better judgment I missed this guy.’
Aaron in a suit at a podium, he seems to be very passionate about what he’s saying. ‘I never had any interest in going to a medical conference but when your husband is the main speaker is turns out they’re very interesting.’
Things Aaron has posted about Kevin:
Kevin in a black tank top and grey sweatpants making a green smoothie, illuminated solely by the morning light. ‘tell this guy to come back to bed’
Allison posted it and tagged them but both of them reposted it. the picture is Kevin in a beautifully fitted suit, Aaron on the tips of his toes tying Kevin’s tie. they’re looking at the other like they single handedly hung the stars in the sky. Allison says ‘disgusting’ Aaron reposts it and says ‘i know right’.
Kevin in a crowd, he’s smiling, it’s not an ear to ear grin, it’s mostly just a small content smile. He looks absolutely amazed and completely sucked into whatever he’s looking it. ‘It’s his first concert. I think it’s safe to say they’ll be many more.’
Kevin in his cap and gown. he’s standing next to wymack, they both have an arm over the others shoulder and a smile on their face.
Kevin standing in the airport with a paper sign that says Aaron Minyard. ‘He’s one of three people here… so dramatic.’
Kevin with a coupon for one free pizza every month for a year. ‘Turns out he’s good for something. He’s a damn good trivia partner.’
Kevin behind the wheel of his car, he has sunglasses on, the sun is low in the sky, he seems to be quiet happy. in the bottom of the picture you can see Aaron holding Kevin’s hand. the story has the location marker of somewhere in nevada. ‘almost there’ he tags Jeremy and Jean in the story.
a video of Kevin in a museum, they’re in a tour group but Kevin keeps correcting the tour guide who looks just about ready to quit. Aaron, Jeremy, and Jean can be heard trying not to laugh in the background.
there’s approximately a million pictures of Kevin with their kids.
Kevin and Aaron cuddled up together on a bus, they’re sharing earbuds and they’re both out cold. it’s easy to tell from Kevin’s attire this was during the olympics. Aaron captions it ‘who the hell took this picture on my phone?’ Allison shamelessly admits it was her
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What if Neil never made it home? (Kevneil pain)
TW - physical abuse (choking), panic attacks, hints of suicidal thoughts, grief and loss of a MC, anxiety
“Where is he?”, Andrew’s monotone voice chilled Kevin all over, making his already rapid heart beat faster. “I-I don’t-“, Kevin put his head in his hands and let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know where Neil was and he was dreading the worst. He was holding his hand just minutes ago but the fight broke out and..Kevin let out a strangled sound and squeezed his eyes shut. “Andrew-“, Nicky’s fear made him look up in time to see Andrew marching towards him up the aisle of the bus. “Andrew, I promise I don’t know where he is”, Kevin pleaded as Andrew ran into him and grabbed his throat, “Andrew, please, I don’t-“. He let out a choked whimper as Andrew’s hands grew tighter around his neck. A million tortured moments of Riko flashed behind his shut eyes making Kevin want to disappear; run away from this place to find his Neil. “Andrew”, he tried to whisper, the name barely coming out. “Where the fuck is he?”, Andrew’s voice barely changed, his deadpan face still remaining; boring into Kevin’s memory. “His father-the butcher-“, he knew Neil would hate him for telling everyone his past, but if it would get Andrew off him, he’ll try anything. As soon as Andrew lets go he can run; he’d run faster than he ever has, until his legs break beneath him. He won’t care about the pain, he’s lived through pain his whole life, what’s a bit more? If it helps him get Neil back he’ll walk through fire, he’ll go back to the nest, he’ll kiss Riko’s feet and smile as he slowly dies. “Baltimore-the butcher of Baltimore”, Kevin closed his eyes and let a tear fall out. Who cares if the foxes see him cry? He doesn’t give a shit. They mean nothing to him. “Andrew get off him”, Matt looked between the two and wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist, pulling to no avail, “fuck”. Kevin looked up into Andrew’s empty eyes through his blurring vision and prepared for the pain he’ll get before whispering: “please, Andrew, I can’t lose him”. Andrew’s hands grew tighter than before, making Kevin let out a laugh fueled on pain and fear. He looked over Andrew’s shoulder fleetingly as Matt, Aaron, Nicky and Coach finally pulled Andrew off; his throat bursting with a numb pain. “Kevin, sweetheart”, Abby kneeled beside him and pulled his head gently onto her lap, “if you know about Neil’s past we need you to tell us now. It’s important”. Kevin closed his eyes and swallowed through the burn in his throat, silently apologizing to Neil for his truth. “His father..is the butcher of Baltimore. He just got out-“, he pressed a hand against his mottled throat and swallowed the taste of blood, “out of prison. We need to save him”. Nicky let out an inhaled ‘fuck’ as Matt got ready to hit Kevin. “For fuck’s sake, Kevin, why didn’t you tell us before? Is that why he was scared of his own shadow? Because he was fucking running away?”, Wymack ran a hand down his face and swore. Kevin nodded and cleared his throat, “yeah, he ran away with his mom when he was eleven. But she died and..”, he shrugged and let out a pained sigh as Abby began to rub lotion onto his bruising neck. “Fucking great”, Wymack turned his back to the team and shook his head before turning to glare down at Kevin, “you should’ve told us sooner, Day. What if something has gone wrong and we’re too fucking late?” Kevin winced at his words and slowly closed his eyes; he’s been blamed for a lot of shit in his life, but Neil’s possible death stabs deeper than anything before. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, desperate for someone to believe him. “That’s not good enough right now. Everyone get in your seats”, Wymack barked as he strode to the front of the bus and sat down with a loud sigh. Kevin stood up slowly and sank into his seat, watching out of the window as his fear and anxiety choked him once again.
Kevin sunk into the corner of the hotel room and dropped his head into his hands; his left hand red raw from his anxious picking. He didn’t want to stay in this room, he didn’t care if the FBI forced them to, he needed to get out. They reassured him that Neil would be okay, but he didn’t believe them. Kevin flinched as a hand was placed on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze making him want to crawl out of his skin. “He’s going to be okay”, Abby smiled down at him and placed a gentle kiss on his temple, “I know what he means to you”. Kevin blinked up at her and tried to hold his anxious tears in; he didn’t want anyone to know what Neil meant to him. Neil was his and he was going to protect him until the day he dropped dead. “Fuck’s sake”, Wymack grumbled as a loud knock startled everyone up onto their feet. They all stood in silence as their Coach opened the door cautiously and grunted when two FBI agents walked through the door with annoyed facial expressions. “I’m Special Agent Browning and this”, the smug suited man gestured to the taller man beside him, “is my partner Special Agent Towns. We are working on the Baltimore case and can officially announce that the butcher has been executed”. He said it so proudly, so smugly that Kevin wanted to rip the man’s face off with his bare fucking hands. “But this information is not to leave this room, do you understand?”, Towns glared at each face before nodding and pulling a notebook out of his jacket pocket, “we would like some information on Nathaniel Wesninksi, the butcher’s son”. Nathaniel. That name alone brought too many bad memories up that Kevin wanted to scream. He wanted to scream that his name is Neil, he hated that name and he ran so far away to forget it; but now they’re pinning him back down with it. “His-his name is Neil”, Kevin spoke up and felt everyone’s eyes turn to him, “and I want to know where he is”. He tried to stay formal and authoritative but his voice cracked in fear. Both agents shared a small look, a silent conversation being spoken right in front of their faces, before Browning nodded and turned to face the room. “We are sorry to say that Nathaniel did not make it. Our condolences”. Kevin felt the air leave his lungs as if he’d been shot a million times in the chest. “What?”, he whispered as the Foxes turned to shoot him death glares. “For fuck’s sake, Kevin. You should’ve told us”, Matt spat as Dan physically held him back from killing Kevin. “I didn’t-he didn’t want me to, I was just-“, Kevin took a step back in instinctive fear as the Foxes began to shout over each other, each word ripping deep into Kevin’s skin that they began to merge together into a numbing ring in his ears. “He’s okay, they’re just-“, Kevin gripped his chest with his left hand and replayed all his memories with Neil, “they’re lying. He’s okay”. Browning shook his head and sighed, “I’m sorry, kid, but his father got to him before we could infiltrate the building”. Kevin fell to his knees and covered his ears, his lungs bursting in his chest. “No, he’s okay, he’s okay”, he whispered hoarsely, bile slowly creeping up his bruised throat. His ears began to ring with shouts and cries as he watched his Neil slip away behind his eyelids, the blue eyes that he fell in love with slowly closing shut to never open again.
“He’s okay”, Kevin whispered as his body began to shake, painful sobs ripping through his chest, “he’s okay”. He replayed every interaction with Neil, his body still humming with his touches, his cheeks still blushing from the soft kisses. “He’s okay, you’re lying”, he whispered though it came out barely audible, his throat burning with the bile. He felt like he was dying and he was leaning into it; hoping that this will finally be the moment where he’ll die and won’t have to live without Neil. The boy that he fell in love with the moment he saw him swagger onto the court when they were eleven. The boy that mouthed off to the press, to Riko, but would kiss him so gently; would hold him with such tenderness that it would sometimes make him want to cry. His reason to fight back who has lost the battle; who proved that life would never get better, at least not for them. He let out a wail as he felt his lungs collapse, his body shaking so much that he felt as if he were leaving it; finally being freed. “Kevin”, a blurry voice broke through the deafening ring in his ears, a voice so soft that it made his heart break more, “Kevin, sweetheart, give me your hand”. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked through the tears, his head swimming with his fight or flight reflexes. He wanted to do neither; he wanted to disappear. “Give me your hand”, Abby gently took ahold of his hand and placed it against her neck, “feel my pulse, can you feel it?” It took too much energy for Kevin to nod so he squeezed his eyes shut instead. “Good, now match my breathing, I know it’s hard but you can do it”, Abby began breathing too loudly for Kevin’s ears and he just wanted to push her away, but he tried anyway; she always makes him want to try. “Good, that great, you’re doing so well”, Abby whispered through breaths, a sad smile in her voice. “I don’t want to do it”, Kevin whispered as he felt his chest sag in defeat. “No, you’re doing great, I’m so proud”, Abby cupped his face and wiped away the tears that were infinite. Kevin shook his head and dropped his head on her shoulder, opening his eyes to watch as the other Foxes had turned their backs on him. Neil was the only one that made him want to stay here, so why did he let him go? All he had to do was hold a little tighter, but Kevin always let good things slip through his fingers, “I’m sorry”, he whispered though no one heard him.
Kevin strode onto the Ravens court with his head held and with a victory already in his grasp. “For you”, he whispered to the sky before tapping the butt of his racquet against the floor and changing hands, “you gave me your game and I won’t let you down”.
#aftg#aftg trilogy#kevin day#nora sakavic#tfc#all for the game#neil josten#aftg textpost#kevneil#aaron minyard#kevaaron#kandreil#andrew minyard#andreil#nicky hemmick#dan wilds#matt boyd#seth gordon#renee walker#allison reynolds
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One step at a time
My @aftgexchange gift for @lemonboyjosten You said “hurt/comfort” and I couldn’t resist. Hope you enjoy it!
It was a good day, Andrew had decided.
He and Neil had gone to the zoo as per Nicky’s request – “They’re opening the penguin exhibit Andrew! Penguins!” – and even he couldn’t hide a smile when they waddled up to Neil and pecked his red hair curiously. It was small, an almost microscopic curve of his lips. Logically, Neil shouldn’t have seen it, but somehow he did. And he smiled back at Andrew. Small and secretive but warm and so full of love that it made Andrew’s breath catch in his throat.
Then he lost his breath when a kid dropped their bright-blue slushy on Aaron’s brand-new beige chinos.
It was a good day.
It was a good day, but Neil was sweating next to him in their bed despite the winter cold. He was trembling, murmuring so quickly and sharply that he sounded like a frightened animal, cornered with nowhere to run and no idea of how to escape. It sounded like he was begging and all Andrew wanted was for it to stop.
“Neil,” Andrew whispered, his voice rough with sleep. “Wake up.”
Neil didn’t respond, his breathes now coming in short shallow gasps that burrowed into Andrew’s heart and activated an instinct that he didn’t know he still had. He didn’t want to touch Neil when he was in this state, so he hovered just above him, bending low so that he could speak directly into Neil’s ear. “Neil,” he said softly. “You’re safe. You’re here. Wake up.”
Neil’s arms relaxed slightly and Andrew had the brief thought that he should probably stop crowding Neil’s personal space before a solid fist connected with his jaw.
Things happened in slow motion; Andrew sitting up on the bed, rubbing at his jaw, Neil blinking the sleep out of his eyes, looking slowly at his knuckles. Andrew could see the realisation dawn in his eyes, before a look of abject horror crossed Neil’s face and he scrambled out of bed. Andrew unsuccessfully tried to reach out to reassure him, but his hand fell short, and Neil sprinted from the room.
“Fucking hell,” hissed Andrew, watching him leave.
He found him on the roof a few moments later, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his jaw.
Neil was curled tightly, trying to make himself as small as he was that first day Andrew pulled him out of the fire. Only, this time Neil was trembling so violently that the long sleeves he normally wore to bed had slipped down his to his elbows and Andrew saw for the first time the scars that were so different from his own. Neil’s were round and deep, asymmetric and frantic, while Andrew’s were thin and sharp, betraying a system that Andrew didn’t even notice he had at the time.
Andrew dropped the blanket he was carrying around Neil’s shoulders, but the redhead didn’t respond until Andrew sat down next to him.
“Andrew I’m –“
“Don’t apologise.”
Neil looked at him sharply, and Andrew blinked at the moisture in his eyes.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I apologise? I hit you, Andrew!”
“Because I was crowding you while you were panicking. That was my fault and I should have known better.”
Neil sputtered for a moment. “Y-you were trying to help. I shouldn’t’ve reacted –“
“I can take a punch, Josten.”
“For God’s sake, ‘Drew, that doesn’t mean you have to,” Neil whispered, his voice cracking. Andrew felt a twinge in his heart in response. “Fuck.” Neil whipped angrily at the tears flowing down his cheeks.
Andrew gently pulled his arms back down to his side. “You’re allowed to cry.”
Neil used his arms to clutch at the blanket and pulled it across his shoulders and knees as he sobbed quietly. Andrew didn’t say anything until he stopped sniffling, and by that time the skyline was already glowing in the soft orange that promised a bright dawn.
“I wanted today to start good,” Neil whispered, so softly that it was as if he would shatter the silence and everything else good in the world if he dared say what he wanted to. Andrew inclined his head to tell Neil that he was listening, and Neil smiled softly, his eyes tired. “It’s been going so well. I wanted to wake up this morning with both of us warm in bed and the sun coming in through the windows and now I fucked that up.”
“Healing isn’t linear, Josten.”
“I know. I know, but I-“ Neil wiped his hand over his face, burying it in his hair, clutching the back of his skull to pull himself even smaller.
“Yes or no?” Andrew asked.
Neil finally looked him in the eyes. “Yes,” he said instantly.
Andrew sighed, grabbing the blanket and spreading it across his shoulders as well. He tentatively rested his arm across Neil’s shoulders instead, and waited until Neil relaxed into him to let it tense. He pulled Neil close to his chest, letting his own body heat warm him up.
It was then that Neil noticed that Andrew had left his armbands behind. He stared at the methodical cuts. “Yes or no?” he whispered.
Andrew swallowed, but buried his face in Neil’s hair and inhaled deeply. “Yes,” he breathed.
Neil traced the scars, his fingertips so light that it was as if he though the pressure from his fingerprints would be enough to make the old scars burst open once again.
“I survived that,” Andrew said into his hair. He tapped Neil’s arm. “And you survived this too. We aren’t going to let the damn things get to us now.”
They sat in the quiet, as close as they could be, huddled under the blanket and watching the sunrise. Andrew played with a strand of Neil’s hair that was long enough to tickle his cheek, brushing across the freckles as if it were a paintbrush splattering stars across a broken sky. At some point, Neil started talking; about his father, a man so awful that he had spent most of his childhood years running away, about his mother, a woman so awful she had made him believe he could. Neil spoke about being pulled back, the war with the Moriyamas, the torture, the deal with the police in exchange for his and Kevin’s freedom. By the time he was done, the sun was high in the sky, but Neil’s hands were still cold and trembling, perhaps now more due to exhaustion instead of fear.
“We should probably feed the cats,” Andrew said, although he made no move to get up and do so. Neil was resting his head against Andrew’s chest, his side fitting perfectly. Andrew felt like they were a matching puzzle that he didn’t want to break.
Neil hummed. Andrew looked down to see that his eyes were closed, a soft smile on Neil’s face as if he were halfway to the blissful sleep he had missed that morning. It made Andrew’s heart ache.
“I’m going to pick you up, Neil. Yes or no?” he whispered gently. Neil hummed again, and burrowed further into his chest. “Neil?”
“Yes,” Neil yawned.
Andrew lifted him up with ease, cradling his legs and shoulders as Neil’s head stayed where it was. Andrew made sure the blanket was still covering both their arms. While he didn’t care what the other residents of Neil’s building thought, he knew that Neil didn’t want Matt or the others to see the scars he was carrying.
Kevin raised his eyebrows when he saw them walking down the stairs, but Andrew judged the dazed look in his eyes and decided he was too hungover to pay them much attention and just shrugged as he let himself back into the apartment.
The cats were clawing at his legs the whole way from the front door to the bedroom, but he the glare he shot them kept them mostly quiet. Neil woke up from the jostling when Andrew put him back in the bed, and mumbled a sleepy, “Drew?”
“Stay,” Andrew said, tucking the blanket around him and walking out, closing the door behind him once the cats had followed him out.
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i like your face - a morning au
“I’ll get the drinks,” Neil says as soon as they walk into Eden’s.
Andrew raises an eyebrow.
“No one needs to get stabbed tonight,” Neil says. “It’s Hapless Sam on the bar.”
“Spoilsport,” Andrew mutters, but doesn’t move with Neil when he heads to the bar.
Hapless Sam is the new barman helping Roland, stepping in for a few months whilst Ebony, the usual yin to Roland’s yang, is off to have surgery.
Hapless Sam is also the bane of Andrew’s life. He never gets a drinks order right. He constantly peppers them with bad one liners. He also once tried to pick up both Neil and Nicky and Aaron in one night - only stopping when Aaron suddenly duplicated and Andrew stuck a blade under his chin. After that, Roland stepped in.
But the bar was overrun tonight and if Andrew had to so much as look at Hapless Sam - well, someone is going to prison and someone is leaving in a body bag. And you don't need to be a genius to figure out which.
So Neil goes to the bar and Andrew keeps an eye on him - on the red of his hair, the sway of his hips, a new quirk that he had to know drove Andrew crazy. It should be illegal for someone like Neil to have any kind of rhythm - but Neil wasn’t a bad dancer. He was sinuous and unreal, if a little self conscious, and Andrew really really needed a drink before that happened again.
Because it will, promised the voice in his head. Nicky will never rest until Neil dances again. Even if it killed Andrew. He suspected it was partly because Nicky wanted him to dance too.
Neil came back an achingly long time later. There was something odd about the way he looked at Andrew, half a question hovering right beneath his skin.
He set down the tray and Nicky chitters, Aaron glowers, Kevin reaches forward expectantly.
But there’s a yell from the bar and Andrew looks up to see Roland’s furious face, Hapless Sam’s horror.
He catches Roland’s eye and the frantic look there - the way he's turned to stare at Andrew tells him everything.
“Don’t fucking drink anything,” he says to his table.
Aaron puts his glass down. Kevin looks torn but relents under Andrew's stare. Nicky frowns and leans back.
Neil however sways on the spot. His eyes are blown wide, two black pools ringed with the finest circle of ice blue. Andrew reaches for him and Neil reaches back. He looks sad and confused.
"N'drew..." he slurs, "Did I do su'thin bad?" There's a tinge of British in there, a twirl of French.
Andrew tugs Neil down beside him, stomach hollowing because he doesn't know what Neil's taken but it's clear he's taken something. Rage pools in the empty cavern of his chest. He goes to push Neil at Nicky - Roland clearly knows something and he wants answers - but Neil makes a noise in his throat and catches hold of Andrew's sleeve. Even high he's not crossing lines. Andrew aches with that knowledge.
"What did I do?" Neil asks again. "I don' have none secrets."
It takes a moment for Andrew to realise Neil thinks this was his fault. That in some part of this idiot's head, he believes Andrew would drug him again.
"It wasn't me," Andrew says, voice low. "You're okay Neil."
"Stay with Nicky, I'll talk to Roland." And probably gut Hapless Sam, whose fault it inevitably is.
Neil makes that whining noise again and Andrew wishes they didn't have an audience. "Don't wanna kiss Nicky."
"Who said anything about kissing?"
"Not Nicky. Only you."
Nicky's guilty look sets Andrew's teeth on edge.
Andrew needs to talk to Roland but can't leave Neil with the Monsters. Fortunately, Roland comes to them bearing a new tray of drinks and a harried expression.
"Fucking hell guys, I'm sorry. None of you drank those, right?"
"Don't worry Sammy's been banished to the kitchen, he's not doing anything like this again and--"
Andrew is up and in his face within seconds - pinioning Roland against the wall, arm across his throat, knife pricking his side.
"What has he taken?"
Roland notices Neil, gulps.
"It's a new syrup - they call it Goblin Juice and it looks just like lime cordial - Sam thought it was lime for the soda. Fuck Andrew do you need the knife? Ow fuck fuck fuck okay stop, it's made using shrooms. Non addictive. Just meant to make you happy - kinda soft."
But of course Neil was the one who drank it. If it had been any of the others, perhaps no one would have even noticed - maybe even celebrated the free high.
But Neil...
Kevin and Aaron are helping themselves to the new drinks when he lets Roland go. Nicky looks pale and nervous and is holding a shot but not drinking. Neil has flopped back on their sofa and is staring at Andrew, a wide smile on his face that Andrew immediately hates.
"I really like your face," Neil says when his brain catches up and realises Andrew is paying attention again. "You have a good face."
Andrew shoots daggers with his eyes at Roland and the barman flees, promising free drinks for the night and the next, forever, whenever.
Neil smiles and reaches for Andrew again as he comes back.
Andrew is not drunk enough for this shit, especially when Nicky coos. "Oh he's so cute. He should have gotten high sooner."
Andrew wants to warn his cousin to back off but Neil has wriggled around and nuzzled his face against Andrew's shoulder. It's heedlessly distracting. It's dangerously adorable.
"Do yous like my face Nyandrew?" Neil says. "I really really like yours. Look at your face. Hey is my head still attached?"
Andrew sees the way Neil is teetering, wraps his hand across the back of Neil's neck and tugs him close. It's not a hug. It's for the idiot's own safety that's all. However, apparently for sky-high-Neil, silence and gestures isn't an answer.
"You don't like my face?"
The slight tremble in Neil's voice is what makes Andrew swallow his frustration and reply. He can't stand that tremble. "I like your fucking face." "I like yours too." And then Neil's finger boops Andrew's cheek.
"Nose," he says. "Good nose."
For. Fucks. Sake.
But it's kind of hilarious (and ruinously cute) as Neil - gentle as a moth wing - strokes over Andrew's cheek and along his temple, finds the bridge of his nose and the swell of his lips.
"Good face."
Andrew contains himself by a miracle. He's fairly sure Aaron is filming this.
"If that footage goes anywhere but the trash, I'll fucking stab you."
"If you were going to stab me, you would have done it a long time ago brother."
"No stabbing," Neil says. "Too many witnesses. Oh hey, look at the fireflies."
Neil lifts one hand to the empty ceiling. There are no fireflies. This is Eden's. Andrew wants to take Neil home but doesn't think putting him in a car is going to do much good right about now.
"You like my face," Neil sighs and sits back. "Even all of this."
"Yes," Andrew says. "Because of all of this."
It's not the scars, it's because Neil survived. That he should have broken and yet still held himself together by tooth and claw.
"I didn't drug you," Andrew says, close to the shell of Neil's ear. "I promise."
"Okay," Neil says. "Good. I don't wanna kiss Nicky."
And there it is again, the second time Neil has mentioned this. Andrew looks at his cousin, who has escaped with Kevin onto the dancefloor.
They'll have a little chat later, when Neil isn't on another planet.
"You're the best," Neil says. "I'll kiss you."
"Not tonight."
Because even if Neil is warm and flush against him. Even if Neil is soft and pliant and willing. This is a man who has been drugged and cannot give consent. Hell, he's watching fireflies that don't exist and stroking Andrew's chin, like he's forgotten Andrew has teeth. Neil is not okay.
Aaron leans back in his chair. "If it's molly, he could be flying for hours."
"It's some kind of shroom shit."
"So even longer then."
Andrew's fingers tighten on Neil's shoulder. "So we can't wait this out?" He should have asked Roland that.
"Probably not, no. Take him home. I'll bring the others."
And for once Andrew decides to trust his brother. He gathers Neil and his loose limbs and leaves Aaron to manage Kevin and Nicky. It’s a one of the hardest things he’s ever done but Bee’s buzzing voice tells him it's time to let Aaron prove himself, standalone.
Neil is awful as they leave - smiling at everyone and everything, even things that aren’t there. His eyes shine and every time he looks at Andrew, there’s a draw of breathe like he’s never seen him before.
“You are,” Neil says, “the best thing. The abs’lute best thing. Hold me up and keep me sage, no safe. Mean safe. You me safe.”
And Neil cannot sing but his voice is sing song and full of wonder.
Andrew is going to gut Hapless Sam like a fish from chin to pelvis.
They drive home - slowly because Neil keeps getting distracted by things Andrew is doing, like blinking (your eyelashes are so white, like snow flakes Andrew) and breathing (but look how you move, so amazing). But Neil is so soft and happy and obsessed, it’s hard to be angry.
Columbia is dark, their house musty with absence. They’ve not visited for a while and Andrew had been hoping for something slightly different tonight.
Neil apparently had too. “Yes? Andrew? Yes?” He says.
“No,” Andrew says. And he never thought he’d hate seeing Neil obey - not with this - but there’s hurt and confusion and concern and a thousand layers of emotion on Neil’s face when he hears it this time. All the feelings Neil must usually keep tucked away when it isn’t always yes for Andrew.
Andrew relents, “Just this,” he says as he settles onto the sofa, guiding Neil down with him. Neil’s reaction is instant - dopey smile and arms that snake around Andrew in a loose but escapable hold.
“Warm,” he says. “Strong.”
The hours tick by in highs and lows - Neil is happy in phases, then almost crying in others. He tells Andrew things that cross his mind, about Andrew, about the Foxes and exy. He hides in Andrew’s hoody when he sees shadows crawling and is convinced they’re from his father.
Andrew does his best to soothe and protect - it’s all in Neil’s head and Andrew isn’t a soft man, but he keeps Neil close and lets him talk. A few years ago he couldn’t have done this. But a few years ago he and Neil were new and still cutting each other on their sharp edges.
Aaron herds an unhappy Nicky and an almost paralytic Kevin inside. Aaron seems sober but that could just be in comparison.
“Our cousin,” Aaron tells Andrew, “is a fool. But you care about him and shouldn’t kill him for doing what you asked.”
“What did he do?”
Aaron shrugs. “Just a kiss I believe. But might explain a bit more why your nut-job boyfriend knocked himself out that time.”
“That was cos imma liar,” Neil chimes with all the confidence of the truly seshed. “Liar liar liar.”
“Not anymore.”
“Yeah. Not with you.”
There's water and toast and Neil naps at one point but Andrew doesn't because he knows what's next - and he's right. Neil is sick for what feels like hours but isn't. Aaron brings more water. A small part of Andrew wonders if his twin actually likes seeing Neil so ridiculous.
Turns out he's right about that too.
Aaron tells him when Neil is hurling up his guts that seeing Neil like this, seeing Andrew with him like this, makes more sense than anything he's seen prior.
"You're everything to him." Aaron doesn't say that Neil is everything to Andrew but the implication is there.
And when Neil is finally in their bed, safe and asleep, Andrew calls Roland and leaves a warning. Hapless Sam had better be fired or there wouldn't be an Eden's Twilight.
He stays awake and stays awake. He falls asleep around 6am.
Neither of them stir until well into the afternoon and when Neil does, he buries his face in the pillows and groans.
"Oh my god. Andrew I'm so --"
"Shut up." Andrew doesn't want apologies for this. He sees the embarrassed pink of Neil's ears, the flush on his neck. "Stop."
Neil groans again and Andrew knows he must feel like shit right about now. That he's mortified. That he's worried. That Andrew has the power to make it right.
Something wicked flickers in his gut.
"Hey junkie," he says. "I like your face."
-The End-
Notes:
#morning au#andreil#aftg#andrew minyard#neil josten#post canon#all for the game#absolute fluff#even if there's accidently non-consensual drug use#it's not deliberate#no one is an asshole#neil is very soft and sappy#he really likes Andrew's face#eden's twilight#very very fluffy
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DAYdreaming a Kevaaron AU
This is an Kevaaron Singer Aaron! AU I came up with from crazy brain storming and, well, ended up here so I hope it will be enjoyed as much as I enjoyed it in my head. Kevin and Aaron break up, Aaron scribbles down lyrics instead of class notes and his Med school friend notices, takes Aaron to a studio to compose the music and create songs, because its better than Aaron relapsing, and one night without telling Aaron, posts the songs on Soundcloud. And what if Exy finals had half time performances like Super Bowl finals does, and they asked Aaron to perform as Kevin'’ team were in the finals.
(I will be using songs and lyrics that does not belong to me; songs: MrLoverman, Burning, Falling, Till Forever Falls Apart, One Last Song)
Kevin and Aaron are dating, Aaron is in med school, Kevin is a successful exy player living in Chicago. One day, while Aaron is visiting Kevin, they fight over something very small, the argument starts getting heated, both of them bringing up the issues they have been repressing. The argument turns into a shouting match until Kevin tells Aaron that he doesn't have time for this. Aaron leaves Kevin'’ flat, books himself a flight ticket on his way to the airport and calls his friend, Jason, to come pick him up.
They don't talk for a month. Neither of them text or call each other. They don't tell any of the Foxes about the breakup either. But it becomes obvious when Aaron doesn't show up to Kevin'’ game that is in his city.
Aaron used to go to every single one of Kevin'’ games when it was in his city, fly over to the most important ones as support.
The reporters and sport commenters loved Aaron. He would sometimes join Kevin in his post game interviews, Kevin'’ arm wrapped around his shoulders. The fans also waited for the pre-game kiss that became a ritual for the couple. Kevin climbing the bleachers as Aaron draped himself over the railing to reach Kevin'’ mouth, for a good luck kiss. After the game, the photo would circulate all through twitter, fan accounts making a collage of the gathered photos.
So when Aaron did not show up to Kevin'’ game that was in his city, the Foxes knew. Aaron'’ phone was blowing up with messages even before the game started. He wasn't at the stadium but he was watching it on TV at home.
He had many texts from Nicky, asking to know if Kevin and him were broken up. Matt, Dan, Renee, Allison, Robin and Katelyn were all equally concerned.
Andrew called him, he picked it up. "What did he do?" "Nothing." Aaron had said. "Nothing?" Andrew had huffed. "Leave it, we broke up but I still love him, no one is to blame." Aaron had said before he hung up.
He was disconnected in classes, too busy scribbling down words swimming in his head than concentrating in his classes. Jason, his new found friend, which was a foreign concept to Aaron, had noticed. Taking one glance at Aaron'’ notebook, he had realised that these were potential song lyrics. He had an idea.
Aaron was not happy being dragged by his sleeve by Jason. They were stood in front of a beat-up studio.
"I have no idea why we are here" he had said. Jason had smiled.
Sitting on the piano, Jason snatched Aaron'’ notebook from his book. He knew a friend, who knew a friend that owned a studio. Jason had thought it would be good for Aaron if he sang his heart out. He knew Aaron was a good singer from the few times they went to Karaoke together.
They had spent the whole night at the studio, composing a melody to Aaron'’ first song.
I am MrLoverman, and I miss my lover man.
Jason could hear the hurt in Aaron'’ voice, voice cracking, the shaky breathing when he was too close to tears, the tremble in his hands and the distance in his eyes as he was lost in thought, thinking of better times.
The second song was harder than the first. It was filled with more emotions and truth. It was a pleading, a cry for a voice to be heard. Openly stating that he wanted his lover back. The sweet melody of Aaron'’ voice making the song both a weapon that created a wound in your heart and the balm that licked to wound closed.
Oh, have you ever called
I will burst straight back
Give you my forgiveness
And the shirt off my back
Jason had asked one night between recording sessions, the studio was their new stop place now. After every class they would rush to the studio, some musicians that were there just to jam had heard Aaron'’ voice, they were captured by it. Aaron was the Nine Muses ( yes all nine of them) and the audience was mesmerised. He asked if he were to ever release an album that had these songs in it, what Aaron would name it.
After a pause, Aaron answered between laughing fits that he would name it DAYdreaming, get it, Kevin Day and he was dreaming of him 24/7. Jason laughed but thought it would be a great marketing name.
As Aaron wrote, the songs were getting more and more detailed and personal, they were all the words he couldn't speak before.
Forget what I said
It's not what I meant
And I can't take it back
He had not meant to say half of the things he had said to Kevin a month ago, looking back, he knew they were simple things that could have been solved if they had just spoke, if Aaron had just been brave enough to start the conversation.
But he had been too scared, scare that he would lose Kevin over something so simple, so he avoided the topics, and at the end, he still lost him.
Aaron had hated California, the place full of memories of his mother, a torturous life Andrew had endured, the missed years both of them could have had as brothers. But Kevin had changed that, the memories were still there but now, accompanied by happy ones Kevin had created for him.
If the tide takes California I’m so glad I got to hold ya
They had stood on the beach, wrapped in each others arms, looking at the horizon as the sun set, Kevin whispering future plans for the both of them into Aaron'’ ear. Aaron had smiled to all of them, some ridiculous, some too good to be true ideas, but he did not mind, because in all of them, Kevin and Aaron were stood together.
And if the sky falls from heaven above Oh I know I had the best time falling into love
All of these studio sessions, all of these songs, they were all for Kevin, for over a month, he had dedicated all his time to create the perfect songs that reflected his truest feelings about Kevin, his regrets, his cries for lost love. He loved Kevin, and it did not scare him anymore, his love for Kevin.
Maybe one day
I won't sing about you
But he did, he always would, did not matter if Kevin resented him or welcomed him with open arms, he would sing about Kevin for the rest of his life like a broken vinyl.
I know you don't want to talk to me
So this is what I will do
Maybe you're listening
So here's one last song for you
He knew he would never post these songs anywhere, or send them to Kevin, but he had hoped deep down in his chest that somehow these lyrics would be carried out to Kevin.
They eventually run out of lyrics and music to combine, Aaron knew he had to leave this behind him. His true love, buried away in his make shift song lyrics. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep with something missing inside him. Jason did not
That night, he uploaded their album, DAYdreaming by Aaron Minyard and the medics ( get it, med students) on SoundCloud. He had watched Aaron crumble under the loss of Kevin, voice booming into the microphone as if he was calling out to Kevin, hoping his voice reached his ears. Jason hoped someone, a fan, might discover it, and the album got carried out to Kevin.
What he did not expect was the insane success. Aaron had an angelic voice, now the whole world knew. They were listening to his heartbreak over and over again, tagging Kevin, asking what had happened, millions were relating to Aaron, crying to his hurt, his story, his voice.
Aaron however was fuming mad, he could have strangled Jason. The Foxes were blowing his phone up, agencies calling him to sing a contract with him, many gig and concert offers.
He accepted a few small radio'’ interview proposals, with Jason by his side, explaining that he had written those songs only for himself, and his nosy friend had went out of his way to leak them online.
But the rush did not die, in fact, it only got bigger as Exy finals game was approaching. Kevin'’ team was against Andrew and Neil'’ team. The match alone would have created a big deal, but now with the breakup and the album drama, all eyes were on how Aaron'’ twin would react to Kevin on court.
Aaron did not want to Foxes taking sides, he had said it to all of them personally, texted in the group chat where Kevin could see, mentioned it in interviews. They were a family, and Kevin'’ and his break up should not mess their hard found family.
The finals were a big event all on its own, but it got even fired up when Aaron was offered to perform in the half time show. Aaron was shocked, Jason was delighted. He said yes, and Aaron, feeling prideful from the support his songs were getting, said yes as well.
Andrew was not pleased, Neil was very much amused, and he could imagine that Kevin was fuming.
Aaron was shaking with nerves on the finals day. Nicky had flown from Germany as support to both Andrew and Aaron. All the Foxes were lined up in VIP seats, but no one was there for the big game and all of them knew it.
Aaron briefly made eye contact with Kevin right before the game. Kevin was flexing his broken hand, a nervous habit he had, meeting Aaron'’ eyes, he stopped. Aaron smiled at him, a warm, gentle smile. Kevin'’ hand relaxed, he smiled back.
The first half of the game passed as a blur for Aaron, he was having a hard time focusing on the players and the game as time got closer to half time whistle. Jason was stood right next to him, Nicky'’ hand a grounding presence on his shoulder. Eric was there too, he hugged Aaron tight before he got on stage, in front of millions.
Aaron did not do this, he was not a singer, he was supposed to focus on his classes and stay out of drama. Not perform for the whole world to see.
The songs were lined up from less painful to more painful ones, ending with One Last Song.
Under the blinding lights, Aaron could not see anyone else but the microphone in front of him. He sang, with all his heart, he sang. The crowd was wild, screaming his every word back to him. Aaron had never felt this kind of ecstasy, not with drugs, not on Exy court. This was all him.
The last song, was the hardest to sing, after singing all his heartbreaking songs one after other, laying all his hurt, truth, mistakes and regrets in front of millions, he was emotional for the last song.
Maybe one day
I won't sing about you
I'll sing a song about someone new
But right here, right now
You are on my mind
And I think about you all the time
I'm sending a message to you
And I'm hoping that it will get through
Oh, the message was getting through all right, the person that needed to hear this was standing right on this court, Aaron'’ insides made a move, as if he was going to throw up. He closed his eyes. The part that hurt him most was approaching.
In case you hear this
Then know you're the love of my life
Want to tell you I'm sorry
I miss having you by my side
When you were mine
He was getting chocked up, the tears burning, no longer able to contain them behind his closed eyes, he opened them, momentarily blinded by the stage lights.
He did not see the person climbing up the platform, he did not hear anything over his own heart beating.
When it was good it was bitterswe...
He was cut short, strong hands holding his shoulders, turning him around, he was facing Kevin. His hair slicked back with sweet, cheeks glistened with tears.
Aaron knew his was also covered in sweat, tears running down his cheeks. Kevin cupped his face in his strong hands, Aaron leaned into the touch.
Kevin bent down, closing the distance between them and kissing Aaron, heavy and bruising, too possessive, too longingly. Aaron smiled into the kiss, messing it up, but he did not mind. He wrapped his arms around Kevin'’ neck and kissed back just as hard.
The crowd was screaming, Jason was whooping from where he was on the stage but none of it mattered, Aaron'’ world was Kevin and Kevin only.
#all for the game#aaron minyard#kevin day#kevaaron#all for the game imagines#aftg#aftg textpost#kevaaron supremacy#singer au#AU
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kevin day as a singer/ songwriter
IT‘S KEVIN DAY BITCHES YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS - originally this was supposed to be a kevin day writing songs, soft wholesome au thingy, it ended up in kevaaron angst with a happy ending. but i put conan gray songs out of kevin‘s point of view as a bonus??? so it‘s still singer/ songwriter kevin??
kevin day has always loved music. he loved it when his mother sang him lullabies when he couldn‘t sleep, when they danced around the kitchen screaming the words to the song from the radio on the top of their lungs, loved it when she taught him how to play the piano and the guitar.
but like every other good thing evermore took this from him, once they snatched him and burried him alive. riko hated music, so naturally it was forbidden for all of them. no happiness, no light. only ever exy, exy, exy.
don‘t get it wrong, kevin loved exy. he was the son of exy. kayleigh found exy, kayleigh gave it to him, it was in his blood. it was in his soul. and it brought him closer to his beloved mother, to the woman who made his life good, who gave him light and happiness and left him back alone. gave him to them.
however just as exy was in his blood, so was music. so whenever he was alone with his partner he would quietly hum or sing a song his mother used to sing him.
when jean moreau arrived at the nest hell broke out. riko was jealous because kevin would spend more time with the new kid than him. kevin wouldn‘t give the king enough attention so all of his subjects had to suffer.
it got worse with every passing day, with every look that lasted just a second too long, with every conversation whispered softly in french, with every lullaby kevin would sing for jean when he was scared, with every embrace and late night talk. with every stolen kiss, they had to pay. well, jean had to pay. kevin had to remain untouched, no scar was allowed to be visible on his perfect face, on his hands or any body part visible. jean however? jean was never allowed to leave the nest, he was riko‘s, he belonged to riko like some doll he could stab or kick or do whatever he felt like to.
the day kevin told riko to stop, was the day riko lost his patience. kevin day got better in exy, he took his favourite toy away from him, he had the audacity to talk against his king.
kevin always knew riko was unpredictable when he was angry, that the world was just black and red when he was mad with anger, but he never in a million years thought that this anger would ever be against him. that he would have to feel what jean felt every single day.
but he did this day, when riko broke his hand. it was also the day when kevin decided that it was time for them to leave. for both of them, jean and him.
„we‘re going“, he whispered in french when he came back to their shared dorm room. „we‘re leaving. you and me. my father, wymack, he has an exy team on his own. the foxes. we‘re going to join them. because i will not leave you here, understood?“
„we can‘t go, he will find me and while he cannot kill you, he certainly can kill me. no one really cares about me, anyways“, jean replied.
„oh is that so? well i for that matter care about you, you beautiful french bastard and now take your five things and we‘re going“
„kevin, we can‘t. not both of us. that‘s way too suspicious“, jean tried to reason.
„darling, it‘s more suspicous when i go alone, now come. we don‘t have much time. riko will look for you soon, if he doesn‘t already. i know the way out, maybe, if we‘re fast we can go to a more growded place before he catches up on us, maybe we can even reach the bus or a taxi before he comes. we have to try, we cannot stay here. i for once must go to the hospital, the bastard broke my playing hand“
„i‘ll make sure he won‘t come after you, you go. go and forget me. go and leave me alone. it‘s only a few more months before i go, only a few more months before it‘s all over. you don‘t have to watch that. just, go“, jean said, his voice tired and filled with emotion.
„i will get you out of here and you will give live a chance. i promis you will see the sun again“, kevin replied, tears running down his cheeks as he leaned in for one last kiss. „i love you“, he whispered into the darkness as he turned to go. kevin never heard the reply, he wasn‘t sure he wanted to.
so kevin tiptoed to the backdoor and left. just like that. until this day he didn‘t know what jean had to go through for him to be able to leave like that but he was thankful for it nonetheless.
somehow he made his way to psu and found his place in the team. well, not exactly found a place. more like got adopted by a scary 5“0 tall, stabby boy, who promised to keep him safe, his twin brother and their cousin who scared the living crap out of him.
„what is our routine? do we have 16 hour days as well here? when is practice? and do we choose our majors ourselves or does the master choose them for us?“, kevin asked the others when they were alone in their dorm.
„do we have WHAT now?“, nicky asked. „dude, no we do not have 16 hour days, we, you know, want to like surive?“
„oh, are we allowed to listen to music or does the king not approve that?“, kevin asked instead.
„dude i don‘t know what fucked up shit they did in evermore but you‘re allowed to do whatever the fuck you want here. and dan would more be a queen, but we just call her dan or captain?“
„oh, okay“, kevin said before turning around and leaving the room. his chest tightened, his arm hurt, he just wanted back on the court. but he wasn‘t allowed on there until his left arm was doing alright, and as long as he wasn‘t on the court he couldn‘t train his right hand to play.
the only other thing that could calm him right now was music. the sound of a piano, the strings of a guitar against his fingers, the scratching of a pen against paper as the notes are written down on it.
kevin wandered through the fox tower, more lost than ever, and somehow found himself in a music room. a dusty piano stood under a bright window, an old guitar was in the corner next to an alomst ancient drum set.
almost automatically his feet brought him to the piano and he began playing. he played and played, as if his life depended on it and kevin felt calmer and lighter than he did in years. the voice of his mother was in his head, singing lullabies and placing a kiss on his forhead.
his right hand was playing the old lullabies he remebered while the left hand rested on his tigh
„that was good“, a voice said, bored and unimpressed. he turned around to see one of the twins watching him. it was the one who couldn‘t hide all of his emotions like the one with the knives.
„aaron, right?“, kevin asked, voice hoarse from crying.
„how do you tell us apart? not even nicky can tell us apart like 90% of the time and he‘s basically our mom“, aaron replied.
„well, it‘s a 50/50 chance, isn‘t it? i was just lucky“, kevin replied.
the music room became his place of safetey and calmness after that day. he would return whenever he felt lost or sad or upset. be it 2 am or the middle of the day.
and aaron would join him more and more often, may it to study because „your music helps me concentrate“ or just to watch kevin play while the sunbeams chased over his pretty face.
and if kevin slowly fell in love with aaron in those shared hours it was nobody‘s business
however it didn‘t look like aaron was into him anyways, as the joining kevin in the music room got less and less, and the time spent with kateyln from the vixens got more and more. and suddenly all of the songs kevin wrote were about aaron. all kevin thought about was aaron. he joined him in his dreams. the nightmares from evermore were replaced by kevin dying alone in a dark void while aaron laughed at him with katelyn by his side.
it was one of those late nights, one of the 2 am sessions where emotions took over and the truth was just easier to take. it was one of those nights that aaron decided to go into the music room, he didn‘t konw why. maybe it was katelyn telling him she wasn‘t into him anymore. it‘s not even been a month. or was it two? aaron never was good with telling weeks apart from days or hours. it was all the same blur of colors and voices and the ever so present need to be perfect. nothing less was acceptable.
„why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater, it‘s just polyester, but you like her better, wish i were heather“, it was kevin‘s voice, like an angle, filled with pain and sadness. aaron sat down on the floor, just listening, wondering who the fuck heather was. and who the fuck would ever break his heart.
„watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm ’round her shoulder, now i‘m getting colder. but how could i hate her, she‘s such an angle. but then again kinda wish she was dead, as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. brighter than a blue sky. she‘s got you mesmerized while i die. why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater. it‘s just polyester, but you like her better. wish i were heather. wish i were heather. wish i were heather. why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater it‘s just polyester, but you like her better. wish i were katelyn“, the last word was barely audible and aaron would have missed it if he wouldn‘t have moved closer to kevin while listening to his song.
„why would you want to be katelyn?“, he asked kevin as before he could stop himself.
as kevin turned around the moon let shadwos dance around his beautiful face. aaron could see that he was batteling with himself. that he was about to say something he wouldn‘t normally allow himself to say. show weakness and vulnerability when strenght was all he knew.
„because you like her better. because i want to be the one you kiss“, kevin whispered, looking at the ground. his hair falling into his face, hiding his expression.
aaron moved closer and closer. there were only a few inches between them now. softly he took kevin‘s chin in his hand and lifted it, forced him to meet his eyes. „well, what if you were heather?“, aaron asked, a small smile dancing around his lips.
„but- but katelyn is heather“, kevin whispered.
„well, kately found herself a girl. thea. she dumped me. and i‘m actually glad she did, i wanted you anyways. i just couldn‘t admit it. i thought it was wrong, unnatural. but if something this beautiful is sinful, i understand how adam was able to make the sin. if a fallen angle is wrong in god‘s eyes i have no answer what is right“
he closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss on kevin‘s lips.
kevin, confused and drunk on the smell and taste of aaron, kissed him back. hungrier. needier.
the taller boy softly put his arms around the waist of the smaller one and pulled him closer. „you do not understand how long i‘ve been waiting to do this“, he whispered against aaron‘s lips.
„believe me, i do“.
the next day kevin took a guitar and a blanket after exy training, took aaron‘s hand and told him to come. together they went to the roof (where andrew and neil were making out, as usual) but they didn‘t mind they went to the other side, andrew‘s death glare on them but what‘s new, and filmed an accoustic version of heather kevin would then later on youtube. heather became their song (weird choice i know but it‘s the song where they kissed for the first time) and so so kevin‘s music career started.
kevin kept writing songs - mostly about aaron - throughout his exy career and published them. his fans loved his songs. his fans loved making conspiracy theories about who the songs are for. they‘re losing their shit when they found out it was aaron. after kevin retires he becomes a fulltime musician and eventually even goes on tour.
BONUS - CONAN GRAY SONGS OUT OF KEVIN‘S POV
grow - years, after evermore. after he starts therapy (and takes it seriously) and he feels like his life slowly but steadily becomes better. aaron and him have been dating for a year or two. he is ready to grow, to become his own person. to be himself and do whatever he wants. he is ready to go into the world. he is ready to show them that he queen of exy is not afraid anymore. that he is worthy and he knows it.
comfort crowd - aaron comforting kevin. aaron knowing when he needed to be with the foxes and when he needed some alone time. or some aaron-kevin-time. i do believe that the foxes becomes his comfort crowd, because they‘ve all been through shit and i refuse to believe that they wouldn‘t care about kevin as they did with neil once they learned what that poor boy had to bo through.
the story - kevin wrote that song about him and jean and the nest. the boy and the boy are him and jean. it‘s the story of their time there and the second verse is kevin‘s story of fleeing from evermore. and the refrain is a metaphor for life, because his life wasn‘t funny. or sweet. or pretty. and the „it could work for you and me. it‘s not the end of the story“ is about him and aaron. the last song verse is about jean and that he hopes that he finds his happy end with jeremy.
maniac - kevin wrote that one when katelyn came back to aaron and asked him to take her back cause the girl she thought she was madly in love with broke her heart. but aaron refused to take her back, told her to go back to her ratback and leave him alone. he‘s with kevin now and he doesn‘t need her anymore. she can‘t get him back.
affluenza - kevin wrote that for allison. i don‘t know the deep story behind that, the song just gives me allison vibes.
wish you were sober - kevin wrote that after the first party he went to with the foxes after he joined him and it‘s obviously about aaron. drunk aaron to be exactly. drunk aaron has a special place in kevin‘s heart.
the cut that always bleeds - that one was when aaron dated katelyn and told kevin about it and kevin just died a little bit inside whenever he did.
fight or flight - he wrote that before aaron told him how he felt about him. he just didn‘t know how to put his feelings into words so he just wrote that song.
lookalike - kevin wrote that before aaron and him started dating, but when jean and jeremy started to become closer. he didn‘t take that well at that time as he had a massive crush on both jean (who refused to talk to him) and jeremy (who never looked at him twice but still). and he just daydreamed about dating jeremy so much it almost felt like a betrayal when he started dating jean.
the king - honestly? aaron dating katelyn but nonetheless always coming back to kevin. kevin knows that. that‘s why he wrote the song.
(can we be friends?) - this is about jean/ jeremy when kevin didn‘t really have friends. jean/ jeremy at the time of the nest probably.
(online love) - this one‘s about jeremy. cause let‘s be honest, at least one of those songs is about jeremy.
crush culture - that one is the result of an angry 4 am song writing session when aaron dated katelyn and jj was just starting to date.
generation why - this one‘s for the millenials. his generation in this au.
heather - heather is aaron, basically he‘s talking about having a massive crush on aaron but aaron would never feel the same cuz he‘s obviously straight and madly in love with katelyn (= heather) who is just stunning and gorgeous and beautiful and so much better than kevin
overdrive - this one was written after the first time the twins and nicky took him to eden‘s. the time when kevin started to catch feelings for aaron.
#all for the game#the foxhole court#the raven king#the king’s men#kevin day#aaron minyard#ship: kevaaron#kevaaron
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Alice in wonderland fix but I really don’t know what character Andrew would be. Like the twins seem so obvious but I think the Cheshire Cat would be better bc of the smile and also how extremely unhelpful he is? Or maybe the mad hatter idk. Riko’s definitely the queen of hearts, and Kevin’s the white queen. I just think the concept of Neil running from his parents and falling down a rabbit hole is neat.
brUHHHHHHHH
(i didnt bother with the anthropomorphic shite because effort)
*
Neil flattened his palms on the hem of his sky-blue skirt, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this place. He’d followed a harrowed-looking man with three red hearts tattooed and a pocket-watch clutched in his hand into a rabbit hole, and now he was standing in a field of talking flowers after growing to the size of his father’s manor and back down to an eighth of an inch.
His father would be furious. He’d vanished from a very important gathering, of which Nathan Wesninski’s son was expected to attend. Then again, his mother would be relieved he’d found an escape, even if it meant she paid the price for his absence.
Neil was terrified of his father, but he didn’t want his mum to bear the weight of his actions in his stead. So he had to find a way back.
“Why,” said a voice. “Are you lost, young one?”
Neil looked up. Perched on a large mushroom was a woman, not too much older than himself. She had a head of golden ringlets and a superior-esque smile: between her fingers she held a pipe, smoke drifting and curling in an absent breeze.
“Who are you?” Neil demanded. He was sure she hadn’t been there a moment ago.
She shrugged. “People call me Allison. You can, if you like. Would you like a puff?”
Neil, who missed his mother already, reluctantly nodded and clambered up the mushroom to sit beside her.
“A lovely day for a stroll,” she said, slotting her pipe between his fingers.
Neil took a drag. “What is this place? How did I get here?”
“How would I know?” Allison retorted. “I’m just a girl sitting on a mushroom, smoking. Breathe out, won’t you?”
He did: she curled her finger and he watched in awe as the smoke warped and rippled, forming shapes in the air. The young woman frowned, squinting.
“Change is imminent, boy. You’d best be off.”
“How did you -”
“Goodbye, Neil,” she said, taking back the pipe and disappearing behind a cloud of smoke. He blinked. How had she known his name?
He slipped off the mushroom and lost a black slipper on the way. He walked around the dirt pathway’s bend and found a large, gnarled tree, the path splitting around it and veering off into two directions. Both were shrouded in darkness.
Neil huffed. Refusing to overthink it, he veered towards the left.
A new voice stopped him. “I wouldn’t go that way, if I were you.”
“Well, you’re not me,” he said, petulant. The voice had come from above him: looking up, he spotted a short man, perched on the old tree’s thinnest branch. Another blonde, another strange place, another cryptic message. Neil was beginning to understand this place: it sucked.
The man hummed, eyebrow arched. “Not many have been stupid enough to ignore me. What did you say your name was?”
“Neil,” Neil snapped. “And I want to go home.”
“Really?” He fell backwards off the branch and swung, holding on with his knees to look at Neil whilst upside-down. “Why are you here, then, if you’re so keen on where you once were?”
“I just followed the man with the watch,” Neil argued. “I wasn’t looking to get stuck here. Wherever here is. Which is where, exactly?”
“Everywhere,” the man said, voice flat and ineffectual. “Nowhere. You’ll never find answers with questions like those.”
“Fuck you,” Neil said with false cheer, walking around the man and continuing on the path he’d been told not to take. Spite was a powerful motivator, after all.
“Neil,” said the man. “Say hello to Betsy for me, won’t you?”
Neil flipped him off: the blond barked out a single laugh, which echoed in the darkness.
Neil wasn’t afraid. There were worse things than the dark. His own skin was proof of that.
Wherever he was going, he hoped to never encounter blonde men lazing on tree branches again. This day was already strange enough: he didn’t need a headache on top of that.
A house appeared on the edge of the darkness, the dilapidated cottage on a cliff overlooking a large forest. In the distance was a looming castle, shrouded by a melancholic cloud that occasionally sparked and rumbled. A gust of wind sent shivers down Neil’s spine and he curled his arms around his stomach, wishing for a cardigan.
Behind the cottage was a long table, set for tea. Despite the dozen spots, only three individuals were present, each one as perplexing as the next.
The first was a tall man, bronzed, hair curling around his ears. He was practically hopping up and down in his chair, talking a million miles a minute.
The second was a tiny man, sleeping inside of a teapot on the table. With dismay, Neil realised he looked exactly like the blond man who he’d encountered in the dark woods. How had he already arrived, when Neil had just spoken to him?
The third was a woman, oddly calm and composed. She was plump with greying brown hair and smile-wrinkles around her eyes. When the bronzed man poured the teeny blond into his cup of tea, she plucked him out and sat him in a teacup full of sugar cubes.
“Who are you?” said the tall man, finally acknowledging Neil’s presence. “Are you here for tea? Betsy! We have another guest!”
“Quite,” the woman said, smiling. Neil didn't trust that smile one bit.
“So you’re Betsy,” he said.
“Ah,” she nodded. “Come across Andrew, did you?”
“He said to say hello,” Neil curled his fists in the hem of his dress, ignoring the tall man’s lavish stares.
Betsy’s laughter tinkled like bells in the wind. She readjusted her hat. “Sit Neil. We were just about to serve tea.”
“Next time, don’t serve me,” the tiny blonde grouched, crossing his arms. He wasn’t Andrew, Neil decided. It was rather plain to see, now that Neil had heard him speak.
“That’s Aaron,” Betsy said. “Andrew’s twin. This is Nicky, their cousin. I am Betsy, though you already knew that. Sugar?” She picked up the cup that Aaron was still in, ignoring his squawk.
“No, thank you,” Neil said, remembering how his father would pinch his side if he forgot his manners. “It’s an odd time for tea, isn’t it?”
“We are always having tea,” Nicky said, voice saddened. “We are doomed to a constant tea party, where no one ever shows. But it is what it is!” He and Betsy clinked their teacups together and took a sip. “How about you, Neil? What did you do to the King?”
“I’ve done nothing to the King,” Neil said, affronted. “I don’t even know who he is!”
“But you will,” Aaron said, clambering out of the teacup. “Not knowing him is a grievous offence. Everyone must know and adore the King.”
“But I’m not from here,” Neil said, miserable.
Without the constraints of a teacup or teapot, Aaron grew to a normal (albeit still short) size, identical to that of his brother. He immediately yawned and ignored the broken crockery and spilled milk, curling up for a nap.
“Don’t mind him,” Nicky said. “It’s better that he sleeps. He is brilliantly angry when awake.”
“None of this makes any sense,” Neil insisted. “I just want to go home. Where can I find the man with the pocketwatch? He was the one I followed.”
“Three hearts on his cheek?” Betsy inquired. Neil nodded. She looked over her shoulder at the large castle. “You’ll find him in the castle. He is cursed to never be quite on time: you should be able to catch up with him, if you hurry.”
Neil looked at the castle’s horrid silhouette. “You’re mad.”
“Yes,” Betsy agreed. “But aren’t we all?”
“I’m not going there. I don’t want to die.”
“Craziness or death,” Nicky said, sullen. “You can’t escape your fate, and there's only two options.”
“You should visit the Queen before you go to the castle,” Betsy advised. “He may be able to help.”
Nicky was right: Neil was still alive here, so he had to be going insane. “He?”
“Indeed,” Nicky said. “Why, is there something wrong with that?”
Neil just blinked. There was something wrong with everything here. He hadn’t once encountered something that behaved in a way Neil could predict. “No. Let’s go visit the Queen.”
*
in a hypothetical pt. 2, we’ll meet the others!
(renee as an enslaved human form of the Jabberwocky??? anyone????)
#andreil#aftg#wonderland au#andrew minyard#neil josten#betsy dobson#allison reynolds#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#the foxhole court#this was a really really cool anon thank you i love this idea#mad i didnt think of it before
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Northern Road Trip
This is my piece for the AFTG Gift exchange! I went for Andriel coz im a complete Andriel junkie, but i couldnt resist a little Renison on the side XD
This is for @andthenthefirenationattacked - I hope you like it! I’m sorry it’s not very good but I tried! (And if you wanna talk or fangirl about aftg at any point, i’m definitely around for that!)
Neil couldn’t remember a time he had felt this safe. Which, he had to admit, made no sense considering his current situation. Despite having family in England, an uncle who had once saved his life, the UK had never been a place that had screamed safety. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of an endless stretch of rolling green hills that looked like they had been taken from one of Matt’s fantasy novels, and he felt…safe. It was as much a disquieting feeling as hope had once been.
The sky was a bright, forget-me-not blue that, after only five days in the country, he already knew was a rare blessing. Fluffy white clouds scudded across the sky, and the relief that they weren’t even a little grey had been unexpectedly strong when they had woken up this morning. Two cars idled behind him, the engines rumbling softly, and those inside were already betting on the upcoming games outcome and snacking on junk food that Kevin had already tried to throw out four times over.
Neil sucked in a deep breath, feeling the cold air settle in his lungs like shards of ice. Beautiful, this country, but cold. And wet. This was the first day they had been there that it hadn’t rained.
He could hear his old team behind him, laughing and joking, teasing Andrew for their stopping. It hadn’t been Andrew that had wanted to stop, but the goalie knew Neil too well now – had feigned car sickness to cover Neil’s need to see something. To see something other than exy courts and press rooms from the place his mother had come from. The woman had been cold and cruel and protective and beautiful, and standing there now, in the place she had always talked about, in Rivington, he could understand. The people he had met from around here felt like they had been born from the place itself. He could almost feel his mother in the wind’s cold fingers as it raked through his hair and cut straight through his winter coat to chill the blood in his veins.
“Neil! Come on! Andrew says he’s okay to keep going now,” Matt shouted, a grin on his face that was far too smug and pleased to merely be teasing.
Dan smacked him in the ribs as she disappeared around the other side of their hire car and slid into the driver’s seat. And then smacked the wheel in frustration, got out and went round to the passenger side door, grumbling about stupid English cars. Neil tuned out Matt and Allison’s teasing, both of them needling Dan about still not being used to which side of the car to get in, and turned to the other car. Renee smiled at Andrew before going to join the others.
Neil slid into the backseat next to Andrew, Aaron on the goalie’s other side, Kevin up front and Nicky driving. Within thirty minutes of driving, Andrew was asleep, head tipped back against the back of the seat – Neil wasn’t surprised, Andrew had barely slept since the flight, as though he was more scared than Neil that some relative would show up at their hotel. It wasn’t a secret they were in the UK; the whole world had known this is where they would be. The press had been covering the US exy team’s trip to the UK in excruciating detail for weeks. They had already had their games in Glasgow and London, and tomorrow, the last game of Us vs. UK, would take place in Manchester. London had been an easy win for the US Court, Andrew had barely bothered to try. Glasgow had been significantly more difficult. It had taken bribing Andrew to lock down the goal for them to come close to winning – even then it hadn’t been enough; they’d lost by two points.
Tomorrow’s game would decide who would face the Chinese team. And the old team from Palmetto State had come out to show their support as Kevin, Andrew and Neil, played their last UK game of the season, fighting to advance closer to the title of ‘Exy International Champions’. Kevin had been training and planning nonstop. It had taken Andrew’s knives to convince him to have this day off.
“Erm…Neil…?” Nicky asked, voice tight. Neil dragged his eyes away from staring out the window as the North sped by, and met Nicky’s worried eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Satnav is freaking out.”
“Get Andrew to fix it,” Aaron grunted, “he’s the tech wonder boy.”
“Waking Andrew up in a car has never been a good idea,” Nicky warned, no doubt thinking of that time all those years ago.
Neil could feel Aaron’s smirk as the man reached over and tapped his twin on the shoulder closest to Neil. From habit, Neil’s hand was out waiting as Andrew jolted from sleep, one hand instinctively reaching out. Their fingers twined together and held on tight. No elbow in the stomach, no fists flying, not anymore – they had been sleeping in the same bed now for nearly two years; Andrew was too used to being woken by Neil’s nightmares to react violently. Now it was a grasping hand and white knuckled grip, each proving to the other that they are here – that they are safe. On Andrew’s other side, Aaron huffed in frustration and turned his attention back to the steady stream of messages between him and Katelyn.
“Satnav isn’t working properly,” Neil explained quietly, and Andrew shook off his grip, leaning forward to take it from Kevin.
“Going old school,” Nicky muttered to himself. “Gonna have to use these damn stupid road signs.”
Neil didn’t bother to watch what Andrew was doing to fix the machine – he had learnt a long time ago that when Andrew couldn’t sleep, he and one of the cats curled up on the sofa with an instruction manual of some sort. Andrew couldn’t sleep most nights. By this point, Andrew’s eidetic memory had given him the ability to fix almost anything technological.
It took them another hour and a half to reach the Lake District. They were aiming for a shop that the Northern players on the UK team hadn’t stopped raving about since the team meets had started. By the time they finally arrived, it was raining again.
They parked in a garden centre opposite a tiny little place called ‘The Grasmere Gingerbread Shop’ and stared out through rain-streaked windows. Nicky’s phone started ringing. He took the sat nav out of its holder, tossed it onto Kevin’s lap before balancing his phone in the slot instead. Allison’s face appeared on the screen, and then the rest of the others.
“So, how do we decide who goes out into the rain to get the damn gingerbread we drove for two hours to come and try?” Allison asked and Renee, in the driver’s seat beside her, tucked a few stray blonde curls behind her ear, dragging a smile from the otherwise annoyed face.
“Flip for it?” Nicky suggested.
Matt lost to Renee. Dan lost to Matt. Allison rolled her eyes and picked at a perfectly manicured nail, but called heads when she went up against Dan, only to lose. Storm clouds gathered on her face as she waited for the other car to decide who would flip against her.
Aaron called heads, Allison, tails. Aaron won.
Neil hadn’t heard swearing like that for a long time. He couldn’t help but smile. He had missed them all. He loved being on Court and he loved his team and exy, and playing with Andrew and Kevin, but he had missed being a fox.
Renee went with Allison, smiling as the blonde tried and failed to hide under the trees from the rain. Neil could hear through the cracked window Andrew was smoking through as Allison cursed everyone and everything for her having forgotten an umbrella. Renee just laughed and tugged her in for a kiss. Neil smiled again; it had taken them a long time to realise just how meant for each other they were – but now? Together? They were a sight for sore eyes.
Andrew blew another cloud of smoke past Neil’s face. He couldn’t help the deep inhale as the smoke curled past his nose. Andrew watched, utterly unimpressed – but Neil could read the affection in the stare. Smoke was no longer the reminder of his mother, of the fire, of how it had smelled when her body had burned. Now it was Andrew, it was nights on the roof, the bite of his key in his palm, the feel of a thundering heartbeat beneath his fingertips. Andrew’s knee nudged his, and Neil smiled again.
Allison and Renee got back in the car behind and they drove to Windemere, where they had booked out all the rooms in a little bed and breakfast. The man at the desk was the most English person Neil had ever met. He was the embodiment of every single English stereotype, and Neil couldn’t get away fast enough.
Their rooms were all on the second floor, Dan and Matt disappeared into one room, Allison and Renee into another, Aaron claimed his own room, as did Kevin and Nicky. Nicky was already face timing with Eric before his bedroom door closed. And despite Allison’s usual warning of ‘keep it down’, there were delighted giggles and moans coming from her and Renee’s room.
Neil shook his head, smiling, and followed after Andrew into their room. Andrew was already lighting up next to the window, so Neil dropped the bag by the bottom of the bed and slumped onto the mattress, stripping off his black armbands and dumping them over the edge. He heard Andrew shut the window and the bed dip as he settled nearby. Neil reached a hand up, and Andrew’s fingertips trailed over his bare arms, dipping over every scar and mark.
Neil closed his eyes, even now, years later, most touches on those scars brought back the car lighter, the knife, his father’s axe…
But then Andrew’s lips began tracing every raised bump, slowly washing away the memories one by one, until there was nothing left but the two of them, Andrew’s hands under Neil’s shirt, Andrew’s lips pressed hard to Neil’s, and Neil’s fingers tight in Andrew’s hair.
He didn’t realise how much he needed it until Andrew tugged his t-shirt over his head and slowly but steadily began taking him apart. Neil couldn’t stop the moan that Andrew dragged from deep in his throat as Andrew pushed him harder and faster until Neil’s breathing became ragged and Andrew leaned up to press their lips together as though he could swallow Neil’s hard groans when he fell over the edge. He lay limp and sweating, breathing hard, with Andrew beside him, the man’s expression open and soft in a way he had only seen four times so far.
Neil reached out, “Yes or no?”
Andrew didn’t reply, just pressed his cheek into Neil’s palm and closed his eyes as Neil’s fingers played with the tiny hairs at the nape of Andrew’s neck. He wanted to say something, anything to remind Andrew just how amazing he was – how he always knew what Neil needed, usually before Neil knew himself, how even though Neil had long since learned to stand alone, it felt safe knowing that Andrew was there for him if he needed to lean on someone. But he didn’t have the words.
And he didn’t find them fast enough before Nicky pounded on the bedroom door.
“Come on, lovebirds, Allison ruined her hair to get this gingerbread, and Aaron and I went out for alcohol, come and have a drink and a snack like the old days. But put clothes on first!”
Andrew growled under his breath, but Neil smiled.
“When will he leave me alone?” Andrew said, shaking out his hand and pushing up to sit on the edge of the bed.
“He’s been in Germany with Eric for ten months. He can’t leave you any more alone.”
Andrew just stood and stared down at him a moment. “Come on junkie. Let’s go.”
Neil stood and went to the bathroom, cleaning himself up, before he joined Andrew at the now open door to the bedroom, stood in front of a very irate Kevin.
“We have a game tomorrow. Tomorrow. And they want us to drink and eat and party. Why did they come at all, they’re not playing,” Kevin said, face set; cold and hard.
“Tomorrow will be fine. We’ll win or we’ll lose, but it’ll be fine. Let’s go, it could be fun,” Neil said, shrugging. He’d never felt as safe as he was in that moment and he’d never seen Andrew as relaxed – that was all he needed. All he wanted.
They should take road trips more often.
“Three hundred and seventy-four percent,” Andrew murmured.
Neil didn’t bother to stop the smirk on his face.
----
That’s it! Again, I hope you liked it and I hope it was a good enough gift for you in the exchange! Have a wonderful day!
#aftg#aftg gift exchange#andrew#neil#andriel#the foxes#little sprinkles of renison#coz they too cute#road trip in the uk#in the north of course#in my two favourite places#hell i hope you liked this#i tried to write them#they were REAL hard to write#heres hoping i did the wonderful foxes justice#damn i wish they were real#and that i was a fox#XD
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Hello neighbor fanfic inspired by Abrliks Nicky Roth kidnapped Au please enjoy
PART 1:The kidnapping
Nicky walked through Raven brooks high schools hallway. His shoes squeaking against the floor he fiddled nervously with the loose strings on his hoodie.He approached his locker, the door squeaking as he opened it. “Hey Nicky how ya doing” Nicky jumped slightly with fright but was relieved to find it was just Enzo his friend “Hey Enzo I’m ok just ya know processing” Enzo put a comforting hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug Nicky felt tears well up in his eyes and cuddled further into Enzos chest “I…I know you miss him we all do but you need to move on Nicky he’s…” He caught himself before he made Nicky more upset “Let’s go it’s lunch time I heard Trinity was going to start a food fight” Nicky smiled and turned away from his locker. “Ok yeah let’s go I need to do my math honework anyway” They both walked past the schools poster board among all the clubs sign up sheets and school musical auditions was a newspaper article stuck to it this article was the talk of the town Nicky stared at it ‘Aaron Peaterdon found dead.’
Later…
Nicky walked home the sky was grey and the clouds came over him and let loose. Rain poured down from the sky he didn’t have his unbrella or coat “god damn it” Nicky said allowed.He was now cold and wet he finally arrived at his home he tried the door but to no result Nicky groaned. his parents must have been out and there was no spare key! Nicky kicked the door angrily the world had finally won.He couldn’t take it any more Nicky looked up at the sky and cried he was now soaked through he was cold and wet. He turned to go to Enzos to ask if he could wait the storm out there the rain was now inside his cheap shoes He was halfway down his porch when he heard a voice “Nichloes what are you doing out it’s raining cats and dogs” Nicky turned around “oh hello Mr Peaterson how you doing” Nicky looked at him with sympathetic eyes. Mr Peterson held on to a black umbrella he was dressed in his usual yellow shirt and sweater with the addition of a pair of wellies.He moved towards Nicky and gently coaxed him under the umbrella “my god your soaked through come on I’ll get you a spare change of cloths and get you dry” Nicky moved away from the friendly arm that was now wrapped around him “no thank you I can just go to Enzos” put he was quickly pulled back once again.Mr peaterson gently led Nicky towards his porch Nicky stood awkwardly at the steps “ya…ya know I can just go to my friends house and wait there my mum and dad will be back soon they‘re only at work” Mr peaterson was trying to find his keys. He kept his back turned to Nicky. “Non sense I’m not going to let you walk all the way to Enzos or Trinity’s it would be also safer if you just stayed with me.” Mr peterson finally found his keys and opened the door he walked into the house and removed his shoes Nicky decided to follow him it was better than staying out here. He gently closed the doors and removed his shoes Mr peterson came back from the living room “just take of your hoodie and hang it up I will wash and dry it later” Nicky nodded and removed the soaking wet hoodie” His t-shirt was wet as well but not as bad as his hoodie.He followed Mr peterson further into the house the light flooded from the living room into the hallway it was a warm glow the flowery wallpaper gave it a very warm and cozy vibe. Nicky gently ran his hand along the wall gently smiling at the photos of Aaron and Mya he also noticed a couple of photos of Diane Mr Peterson's wife smiling.
He didn’t notice his neighbor coming down the stairs carrying a fluffy towel under his arm he placed it atop Nicky a head “there we are I’ll get you nice and dry then go upstairs and go into Aaron’s room there's a spare change of cloths for you I’ll bake some cookies and tea and we can enjoy them while we wait hmmm” Nicky gently nodded and went up the stairs he found the room quickly.He opened the door everything was still in its original place the bed that was never made was tucked in neatly but everything was the same. Nicky located the cloths that were folded neatly on a rocking chair Nicky removed his shirt and put on the new one he removed his pants and put on a spare pair of jeans the t-shirt was plain white but it fitted surprisingly well. Nicky, not quite sure what to with his wet cloths folded them up And placed them on the rocking chair.Nicky took one more look around the room and left he could hear the radio blasting from the kitchen and Mr Peateron attempting to sing Nicky smelt the heavily smell of cookies wafting up the stairs they were chocolate-chip his favourite Nicky's mouth watered
he continued to go down the stairs the floorboard squeaking he entered the kitchen Mr peaterson was wearing a apron that said ‘kiss the cook’ Nicky smiled and gently sat down at the tabl. Mr peaterson turned around “oh hello Nicky I made cookies they should be out soon” “thank you Mr peaterson“ Nicky saw him smile slightly the kettle wissled telling them both the tea as done Mr peaterson took it if the heat and poured it into two tea cups. His back was turned and Nicky could see that the rain was not giving up Mr peaterson
picked up the cups and brought them over to the table the timer finally went of “oh that will be the cookies their chocolate your favourite” Nicky took a sip of his tea.Mr peaterson slid the cookies onto a plate and pushed them towards Nicky.Nicky picked one up and took a bite Nicky hummed happily “these are really delicious“ Mr peaterson smiled and took a sip of his tea. “ I’m glad you like them“ Nicky took another gulp of his tea his cup was now empty he looked around the kitchen then at Mr peaterson smiling face.Nicky felt suddenly very tired the world had now gone fuzzy and was spinning he put his hand to his head “Mr…Mr peaterson I don’t feel so good” Mr Peaterson kept smiling ”it’s ok Nicky darling you will be ok” that was the the last thing Nicky heard before he fell asleep
#very long post#crappy#iwatchedyoutubewhikewritingthIs#inspired by art#Hello neighbour#itrainedtodaysoIputraininthestory#please enjoy
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climb a mountain (hold his hand)
Rated: T
Word Count: 2.5k+ words
Characters: Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Aaron Minyard
Relationships: Andreil
Warnings: Car Crash, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Summary: Neil gets into a car crash; Andrew is the mountain he can lean on. Wherein I asked myself what would happen if Neil said those particular words again, i.e. “Thank you. You were amazing,” and it all spiraled from there.
Thanks to my beta, @queenofmoons67!
on AO3, ff.net
Neil wakes up with his vision sideways and gravity on the wrong side of the car. His chest feels tight, and he can’t take a proper breath; the seatbelt digs across his neck and down his chest, riding high because of the strange position of the car.
It’s the only thing keeping him from falling on broken glass, the passenger seat’s window shattered from when it crashed on concrete.
“Andrew,” Neil groans, the name struggling up his throat until it spills from his lips, lays broken in the quiet air around him.
No one answers, and Neil gazes at the empty passenger seat for a full minute, his chest aching for a whole new reason, before he remembers that Andrew was never in the car in the first place.
“Oh,” he says, and his head hurts. He can see trees through the windshield, a winding mountain path that looks familiar, but he can’t remember what happened. He was at the apartment. At their apartment. Neil stares at the car keys still hooked into the ignition, his apartment key hanging on the same key ring, in an attempt to remember more.
He was at home.
He was at home, he was at home, he was—Kevin was there. As soon as the other striker’s face crosses his mind, he sees the scene clearly. They were going over the opposing team’s data for their next game. They were crowded on the couch, Neil just barely brushing up against Andrew’s arm. He thinks there may have been ice cream. Kevin… Kevin left before dinner, to meet Thea. Neil and Andrew decided on take-away.
Neil breathes in, as deeply as his seatbelt allows him to, and catches a whiff of vegetable lo mein. He’d been on his way home.
He doesn’t expect the stab of pain that follows. It breaks from his chest, and suddenly the low ache becomes a harsh pulse, every breath digging fire into his lungs.
“Andrew,” Neil calls again, attempting to curl into himself, but the seatbelt and gravity combine to make his efforts useless. He doesn’t know why he keeps asking for his boyfriend. Dimly, he wonders if it’s the concussion, or if asking for Andrew has become a pain response.
He instinctively flinches, as if waiting for his mother’s hand, because relying on someone else when he’s in pain was something she should have beaten out of him long ago.
Nothing touches him.
Thinking of his mother wakes him, though, and Neil struggles even more to escape the fog that drifts through his mind. Definitely a concussion.
Neil tries to think of Andrew, of Kevin, of Dan, of Renee, of all his old teammates who could have had a clue about what to do in this situation.
Aaron.
They’re not friends. Not really. No matter how many times Nicky brings them together with a smile on his face, they just haven’t been able to click. Allison said they’re both too anti-social, and promptly started a new bet. Fifty bucks they’ll never say anything nice about each other face to face. Not even ruining Allison’s win streak gave them any motivation to do that. Neil couldn’t even think of anything at the time.
But here. Nicky used to help Aaron study for nursing exams all the time. Always out loud, always bothering Neil and Kevin as they tried to review other exy games.
“I need to say it for it to stick,” Aaron used to say.
I’m never saying thank you to your face, Neil thinks, but simultaneously tries to take stock of his situation.
The car rests on its passenger side, the darkening sky visible through the driver’s window. Neil is only still in his seat because of his seatbelt, but the same thing that saved him digs into his chest and throat, making it hard to breathe. Every breath sends jagged pain through his ribs, and Neil thinks about all of Aaron’s old med diagrams and hopes he isn’t in danger of puncturing a lung. He thinks it’s too late to hope he’ll get out of this without a broken rib.
The smell of vegetable lo mein still hangs in the air, and Neil wonders if there’s noodles all over the backseat of Andrew’s car. He’ll have to apologize later. He laughs at the thought, because when has he ever apologized to Andrew, but Neil’s laughter only shakes his head, reminding him that he shouldn’t be moving it. Pain courses through his head, and he tries to move his other limbs in order to focus on something else.
Bad idea.
As soon as Neil moves his left leg, he has to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from screaming. It won’t budge, caught on something under the steering wheel, and Neil tries to remind himself that he’s felt far worse. Tears won’t help him here.
His whole body aches and throbs now, piercing pain jolting his chest, leg, and head every time he even thinks about them.
Neil thinks back on Aaron’s study sessions, but he doesn’t want to try touching any of his injuries right now. Aaron, as usual, turned out to be useless.
“Fuck Aaron,” Neil whispers.
Instead, he turns to a different problem: Not staying in the wrecked car all night when the sun is going down. It’s late fall, and although his jacket is enough right now, Neil doesn’t think his body can handle exposure on top of everything else.
There’s not much he can do except use his phone to call someone, but that introduces yet another problem.
Using his phone means moving.
Neil doesn’t think of his mother here. He almost does, at first, because when he was running she was the only one to keep him going from town to town. But that’s not how he runs. Not anymore.
Neil pictures Andrew slipping a hand into his front pocket, possessive, and chases his boyfriend’s hand until he touches his own phone.
He punches in Andrew’s number, then struggles to lift the phone high enough. Finally, though, he gets it into his left hand and just rests it on his ear, the dialing noise coming through clearly.
“Neil,” Andrew answers, and Neil’s whole chest throbs.
“Andrew,” he says.
“Where are you? You should have been back already.”
“’m sorry,” Neil says, and he thinks his voice may be slurring.
“What?”
“Th’nk you,” Neil interrupts. His vision blurs, whether from tears or dizziness he doesn’t know, but he feels faint. He doesn’t have long before he passes out, so he just says the first thing that comes to mind. “You w’re ‘mazin’.”
“Neil,” Andrew says, and Neil would laugh if he had the breath to, because it almost sounds like Andrew is worried. “Where are you? What—”
Neil closes his eyes and lets his arm drop from where it rested by his head.
His phone falls, the tinny sounds of Andrew’s voice fading until Neil won’t be able to hear them.
It doesn’t matter; Neil isn’t awake to listen anyway.
***
In the end the sound of a car door slamming wakes him, forcing his eyes open. The world lays shattered across his vision. He blinks, and the world becomes darkness only to break again. When Neil focuses he realizes that he’s staring at the passenger side window, in pieces against the pavement.
“Andrew, wait!” someone calls, and Neil’s head jerks on instinct.
Andrew?
“Fuck off,” someone else says, their voice rough, and heavy, and Neil automatically knows that it would smell of cigarettes.
“There could be a gas leak,” the first voice says. Whoever it is apparently hasn’t stopped trying to block Andrew’s way, so either they’re very ignorant of who Andrew is or they’re an idiot. That or they’re Aaron.
Neil would bet all the earnings of every previous bet he’s won with the foxes that it’s Aaron.
“My car doesn’t leak,” Andrew snarls, and Neil snorts.
The sound stems from his chest but jostles his whole body, and suddenly everything hurts.
“‘n’drew,” he says, barely managing to moan out the name through his pain.
“Neil?” the first voice says. “It’s Aaron.”
Bingo.
“We’re standing in view of the windshield, can you look up?”
“Fuck,” Neil says.
“I bet,” Aaron says, and Neil rolls his head so that he’s holding it up. he stares out the windshield to see the twins illuminated in a pair of headlights, the world dark around them.
“150%,” Andrew says. Neil can’t help but smile at that, and Andrew scowls fiercely.
“Andrew,” Aaron says. “Go call 911. I’ll take it from here.”
“I thought I told you to fuck off?”
Aaron frowns at his twin. “Who knows more about what to do in this situation, Andrew? If it’s you then I’ll gladly step aside. But we both know it’s not.”
Andrew stares at Aaron, then turns.
“I hate you,” he tells Neil.
“I know,” Neil says.
Andrew flips Aaron off and walks away, aggressively pulling his phone out. As he punches in the numbers and greets the emergency operator, he keeps his gaze on Neil. On anyone else it would feel like being pinned down, unable to move. Neil feels it settle on him like a weighted blanket, and he lets it wrap around him. Safe.
“Can you smell gas?” Aaron asks, and Neil barely keeps himself from shaking his head.
“No,” he says instead.
Relief crosses Aaron’s face.
“Okay,” he says. “That’s good. I can’t see any spills but I wanted to make sure.”
Finally, Aaron approaches the car. His gaze skim over it, no doubt looking for ways to get Neil out.
“How’s your breathing? Anything blocking your airways?”
“No,” Neil says. “My breathing’s fine. I’m fine.”
Neil’s also impressed, he manages to make out Aaron’s eye roll even through the windshield and several feet away.
“No need to lie about that, idiot. You obviously have a nasty concussion and who knows how many other injuries. How about the truth?”
Again, Neil barely stops himself from replying physically.
“The seatbelt’s a bit tight,” he says instead. “You can see the head injury. I’ve broken at least one rib, but my lungs should be fine.” He’s quiet for a second, but he meets Andrew’s eyes and then looks back at Aaron. “Also my leg’s stuck.”
“Okay,” Aaron says, and then turns to Andrew. “Did you get all that?”
Andrew nods, short and sharp, keeping his gaze on Neil, and relays the information to the 911 operator. Aaron turns back to him.
“I just need to ask you some more questions, okay? In case you pass out again.”
“Haven’t passed out,” Neil protests, and Aaron stares at him, obviously exasperated.
“Yes you did, while you were on the phone with Andrew earlier. Andrew heard everything, you can’t deny this, Neil.”
Neil shrugs, and then hisses. Maybe Aaron isn’t so useless after all.
“What’s your name?” Aaron asks.
Never mind. He’s clearly delusional.
“You already know that,” Neil says.
Aaron sighs. “Not for me, for you. I’m making sure you haven’t forgotten anything. It’s also a concussion check, even though yours is pretty obvious. What’s your name?”
Neil grumbles. “Neil Josten.”
Aaron nods. “Do you know where you are?”
He glances around. “The forest. On a road. I’m in Andrew’s car.”
“Obviously,” Aaron says dryly. “Do you know what you were doing in Andrew’s car?”
“Driving.”
“Neil.”
“Getting…” Neil blinks, hard, as he tries to jog his memory. He thought for sure he knew this one. Didn’t he already figure this out?
“It’s okay if you can’t remember,” Aaron says. “Do you know what day it is?”
Neil takes a long, deep sniff.
“Vegetable lo mein,” he says.
��What?”
“There’s vegetable lo mein in the car,” he says. “Was I getting take-out?”
Aaron glances back at Andrew, who nods before yelling something into the phone.
“Yeah,” Aaron says. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Thursday,” Neil says instinctively. He’s not quite sure why, but it feels like a Thursday.
“Good,” Aaron says, and finally the relief returns to his face. “Do you know the specific date?”
Neil pauses, thinking. “Yesterday was July 14th. So today… July 15th.”
“Nicely done,” Aaron says. He turns back to Andrew. “You can tell the emergency operator that he’s out of it, and he took some prompting on a few of the questions, but he answered all of them.”
Neil just frowns. There’s something about that date. July 15th. Why would July 15th matter?
Suddenly it clicks.
“Exy!” he says, the word coming out in a gasp. July 15th, he has a game the next day. It’s summer: The middle of their season.
“Junkie,” Andrew spits.
Neil frowns at him, but struggles to reach his seatbelt. He needs to get out, needs to heal in time for the game. Needs to keep his deal with the Moriyamas.
“Neil, no,” Aaron says, instinctively stepping towards Neil only to find the car in his way. “You’re only going to make it worse.”
“Moriyamas,” Neil says, and finally makes contact with his seatbelt.
“Neil!” Aaron protests, and Neil sees Andrew start forward.
The seatbelt unclicks, and all of a sudden the pressure keeping him in place falls away. His whole body jerks sideways, headed for the ground, and the sight of broken glass reminds Neil why removing his seatbelt was a bad idea.
Then his left leg catches under the steering wheel again, and Neil screams, the sound ripping from his throat until it breaks.
He passes out.
***
He wakes for the third time to the feeling of someone pressing their fingers to his wrist.
“Fast but weak heartbeat,” the person reports. “And he’s clammy. Irregular breathing. Definitely in shock, someone get a blanket over here.”
“Hhhrrrgg,” Neil groans.
“He’s awake!” someone else says.
“Sir?” the first person asks. “Can you hear me?”
“Andrew,” he says. The second person repeats the name, this time as a question. The answer comes in the form of a soft touch on the back of his hand, so soft that Neil knows it must be Andrew. No one else has the ability to make the barest touch feel like a mountain he can lean on.
“Neil,” Andrew says, and Neil blinks his eyes open.
“Yes,” he murmurs, and Andrew’s hand curls around his, then squeezes.
“Hi, Neil,” the first voice from before says, and Neil follows it to a tall looking paramedic with blue hair. “You’re doing great, but we’re going to take you to the hospital, okay?”
“Mm,” Neil says. He tugs on Andrew’s hand, and Andrew lets him pull it to his chest. “Andrew?”
“I’m coming with you,” Andrew says, and if the paramedics have any doubt about that they only need to look him in the eyes to see otherwise.
They don’t run the siren in the ambulance, which Neil is a bit disappointed in because they do in all the movies and TV shows that Matt has made him watch, but at the same time Neil guesses it’s a good thing. No siren equals no dying, right?
He says so, and the second paramedic, this one with freckles and ginger hair, laughs and nods in confirmation. Andrew squeezes his hand tighter.
“You’re a mountain,” Neil tells him, and Andrew makes a face. Neil laughs.
“Probably the pain relief,” the ginger paramedic says.
“No,” Neil insists, “Andrew’s a mountain. Strong. Sturdy.” He pauses to laugh again. “But short.”
The ginger paramedic covers her mouth with one hand. Andrew’s face twitches.
“Andrew,” Neil says, and tries to pat Andrew’s hand only to find that he’s already holding it. He rubs his thumb over the side of Andrew’s hand instead.
“Junkie,” Andrew deadpans, but his eyes are locked on Neil’s, he looks paler than normal, and he’s been habitually checking his phone every few minutes.
“Andrew,” Neil says. He can’t remember what he wanted to say.
Andrew just sighs, long sufferingly, but his shoulders don’t look as tense so Neil counts it as a win. He falls asleep like this, to the steady feeling of Andrew’s hand in his.
When he wakes up again he’ll be in a hospital room with two bouquets and a box of chocolates. Andrew will have already eaten half, but he gets Neil water when he asks and when he turns the TV on it’s already at the exy channel. Neil’s phone has been filled with text messages from the Foxes and his current teammates, all wishing him some version of “get well soon.” One of the bouquets is from Katelyn, the other signed “Kevin” but clearly in Thea’s handwriting. Neil will wake later to Aaron reviewing his chart, and he’ll close his eyes to Aaron’s startled glare.
His leg is broken, and so are two of his ribs, and he has a concussion that will keep him out of play until the All-Star Break, if not longer. Ichirou Moriyama calls him personally to assure him that as he doesn’t lose money for not playing, he will still be expected to pay the agreed upon amount.
Wymack calls to check in, and his coach visits in person, and Andrew stays by his side the whole time.
When Neil falls asleep, it’s to Andrew’s hand in his, a mountain underfoot.
#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#the foxhole court#aftg#aftg fanfic#my fic#mine#i had a thought that was basically#'what would happen if neil said those particular lines again'#aka 'thank you. you were amazing'#cause i live for angst#and then this was born#trigger warning#tw: car crash#tw: car accident#tw: abuse mention#this was just supposed to be a really short ficlet#but here we are#i started this so long ago i don't even remember when#at least two years ago i think
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Knox pls....I hope you can write a part 2 to that fic you wrote based on the “things you said when drunk” prompt pls I’m dying I miss your writing ♥️
thank you so much!!! this is pretty late, but i’ve finally written a sequel! i hope you enjoy :)
read on ao3
Laying on his back, his arms spread wide and legs propped up against the uneven tiling that paved the roof, Andrew thought that he could swallow the stars whole. They were bright that night, thousands of tiny pinpricks of light dotting the gusty indigo expanse of sky. It all felt larger than him, solar systems and galaxies thousands of years removed from everything else.
For a moment, Andrew felt his mind clear. For a moment, he wasn’t thinking about college or Exy or his so-called future.
For a moment, Andrew wondered if he could be perfectly happy up there with them, distant but apart of something larger than himself. A constellation, a solar system. A whole goddamn galaxy of stars.
The scuff of a shoe against pavement pulled Andrew back to the ground. He was instantly aware of the roof tiles under his back and his knuckles rubbing against their scratchy surface and the countdown before he had to leave.
“You don’t have to climb on the roof to look at the stars, you know.”
Andrew lifted his head at Neil’s voice. He sat up, blood rushing to his head, and peered down at him. Neil stood in the driveway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his threadbare jeans, head tilted back and lips curled in the slightest smile.
“Can I come up?” Neil called up.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Andrew replied.
Neil’s smile widened as he ducked out of sight. Andrew heard him knock and the door opened, throwing a blade of orange light across the darkened lawn. Nicky’s delighted voice wafted up, insisting Neil could just come in, that this was his home too. The door closed as Nicky ushered him in, and the light disappeared, turning the world once again to its blues and dark greens of nighttime.
Despite himself, Andrew felt nervous. He wondered if Neil had come to regret asking Andrew to kiss him once he sobered up, or that maybe Neil really wasn’t into Andrew at all now that his head was clear from the alcohol that they had drunk. It was still warm, despite the sun having already set, but Andrew felt chilled at the thought.
The window opened behind him and Neil climbed out. He sat next to Andrew and dangled his legs off the roof in a way Andrew never could without feeling sick from the height.
“I got grounded for stealing the wine,” Neil said, unconcerned. “But I don’t think Uncle Stuart was all that mad. Honestly, I think he just didn’t know what else to do.”
Andrew felt himself relax. He and Neil seemed to pick up exactly where they left off when they parted two days ago, and all the tension bled away. He wasn’t worried anymore. He felt as he always did sitting next to his best friend.
“Couldn’t have been that bad if he let you come over,” Andrew said tilting his head towards him.
“I don’t think he knows what a grounding actually is.” Neil shrugged. “Whatever. As long as I’m back before curfew, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re always fine.”
“Exactly.”
Neil grinned, and Andrew’s stomach twisted and flopped over itself. He was intently aware of how alone they were; Aaron and Nicky were inside and no one else was out on the street. They’d been crammed up on this ledge more times than Andrew could count, but only this moment did Andrew realize how little space was left between them. Andrew distantly thought that he should feel claustrophobic, but all he wanted to do was move closer to Neil, not away.
“Remember when you said you more than liked me?” Neil began. He wasn’t looking at Andrew anymore. Instead, his chin dipped to his chest while he stared at his hands grasped tightly in his lap. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but Neil’s cheeks had taken on a rosy glow of pink. “Well, I more than like you, too.”
Taking a quick, steadying breath, Andrew lightly touched Neil’s cheek so he was facing him again. Neil’s eyes widened a tiniest bit, his gaze dipping to Andrew’s lips. Affecting his best Neil-imitation, Andrew said, “Then you should do something about it.”
That startled a surprised laugh out of Neil. “I guess I deserved that.”
“You really did.”
“You know,” Neil said, “you never actually answered my question.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “I distinctly remember telling you to ask again later.”
Neil’s expression softened. The usual iciness in his eyes melted to a pretty summer blue and his lips parted on the smallest inhale. “Can I kiss you? Yes or – ”
“Yes,” Andrew interrupted and kissed him quiet.
Andrew had imagined kissing Neil, of his lips against Neil’s and his hand curled around Neil’s jaw and Neil’s hands in his hair for so long now that a part of him never thought it would actually happen.
But this kiss changed everything. Andrew felt everything. His hand rested on the side of Neil’s neck, Neil’s pulse drumming an erratic beat against his thumb, and Andrew kissed him. Neil’s hand clenched in Andrew’s t-shirt, not to hold him still but just to cling on to, and Andrew kissed him. Andrew’s heart was going to leap out of his chest, Neil’s hands moved to cup his face, and Andrew kissed him.
Andrew was the first to move back but he didn’t go far. He kept his hands where they were, one on Neil’s cheek and the other around the back of his neck, and tried to get his breathing under control.
“Wow,” Neil whispered. Andrew snorted and pushed his face away.
“Wow,” he mocked. Neil rolled his eyes but his lips twitched until he lost the battle completely and laughed. Andrew felt a small smile of his own but he hid it with the back of his fist before he was able to rein it in.
Watching Neil, his hair mussed and lips red, it suddenly didn’t matter that he was moving two hours away in a couple weeks. He still had a home here, and he still had Neil. Andrew thought he could manage with that.
“You’ll visit, right?” Neil asked.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Andrew replied again. Neil’s eyes crinkled with that quiet happiness and Andrew knew everything would be okay.
–
Andrew’s bedroom door was propped open when Nicky went to check on him and Neil. He knocked on it before poking his head in, but found the room was empty and both boys were sitting on the ledge outside the window.
He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Nicky noticed that Neil’s shoulder was pressed to Andrew’s when he threw his head back and laughed. He had heard Neil’s laugh before, quiet huffs of air or sarcastic snorts, but never like this, never a full-body roar. In turn, Andrew looked completely at ease, his head knocking against Neil’s as he said something else.
It was then that Nicky noticed Andrew and Neil’s hands clasped together. His cousin looked happy and calm, more than Nicky had ever seen him before in the entire two years he’s known him. It was everything he’s wanted for Andrew, and Nicky was glad Andrew had found his own happiness at last.
Smiling softly, Nicky quietly closed the bedroom door behind him and let them be.
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Rockband AU Chapter 10
buckle up folks, we’re about to get emotionally and physically violent up in here (no seriously, we’re going to Baltimore, hold onto your hats)
Sometimes, when he’s at his drum kit, he feels like he’s sitting on a rock in the middle of the ocean.
The surf sucks at the stone, seabirds cry, schools of fish slip close enough that he can see their shimmering colours, and he is still. He is the thing the shipwreck didn’t kill, left out to shrivel under the raw blue sky.
Andrew waits and watches for Neil, searching the rim of the stage, waiting for the smudge of a lifeboat on the horizon. His drumsticks are vertical, fisted on both knees like points on dual compasses. The sooner their singer takes the stage, the sooner Andrew gets to leave it.
Nicky keeps vamping into the microphone, over-exuberant thank you’s and raunchy jokes. He’s unbelievably sweaty under the stage lights. Kevin is hugging his bass to his chest like a lover. Andrew wants to drive a drum stick through the heart of the snare drum and end the show like that instead.
Finally, Neil walks onstage with such a complete lack of aplomb that it takes a moment for the crowd to rile themselves back up again.
His eyes connect quickly with Andrew’s, his expression flat and miserable. It’s like a kill-switch for anything else that Andrew was thinking, lights out. He’s knocked right off of his island and out into the waves.
“The man of the hour,” Nicky crows. Kevin releases his bass, relieved, and his neck strap catches it against his ribs.
Sorry, Neil mouths. His hands find their places on the keyboard, and for a moment he leans into all the keys at once. Sorry, he says again, so the mic picks it up.
“Don’t hold his tardiness against him,” Nicky’s saying. “We’ve gotta create dramatic tension somehow. Do you think you’re ready to close it out?” He’s asking Neil, but he holds out the microphone and the crowd roars confirmation.
Neil responds by breathing out through his mouth, brows stitched together, and dropping his shoulders.
When he starts singing the keening opening note, it’s with his entire chest, and gut, and hands. Andrew looks off-stage, into the silky darkness of the wings, and looks for whatever made Neil’s voice gush out like blood from an artery.
Neil sways uneasily, seeming half-drunk. He takes his hands away from the keyboard and puts them to his own face and chest, jamming his fingers into his flesh like he’s trying to pierce through and drag the song out.
He takes the microphone out of its socket and moves with it, licking his lips and riffing so eloquently that a hush falls over the audience. His chest heaves.
Andrew grapples with the drums, wishing he were off stage, or in the audience, or inside Neil’s skin, watching his face and not the back of his head as the music courses through him like a fever.
He ends the show with his head bowed into the mic stand, shoulders shaking. Through the rush of sound and motion, Andrew can see Neil’s hand flexing as he lets go of the microphone.
Somewhere far away, there’s a sound like a gunshot. A swath of the cheering and conversation huffs and stops, confused.
Andrew stands, counting heads and searching for blood, half expecting a river of red to rush through the gaps in the crowd.
Neil’s face is split by light, almost mathematically perfect, like it was that night on the cabin porch, a hundred miles away. He looks tired.
Neil walks close enough that Andrew reaches out and grips him by the wrists, shackled together while their bandmates gather their things and circle each other with the coolness of a family of sharks.
Cloaked by sound, Neil leans in and says “thank you”. For an eager, out of control moment, Andrew thinks, you’re welcome. He thinks, anything.
Neil is pursing, and leaning, and his face is a whirlpool. It always feels like he’s holding something ugly, and he wants Andrew to take it, if only he knew what it was. “I could never have played without you.”
Before Andrew can register what this means, Neil is pulling free and walking quickly backstage, the curtains swallowing around him.
Nicky claps Andrew on the shoulder, but he heaves out from his grip. There’s that gunshot sound again, followed by another wave of discontent in the crowd. Someone shouts, bruising and angry. There’s a chorus of “hey, watch it”, a hot, wounded yelp. The crisp sound of breaking glass.
“Move,” Andrew says through bloodless lips.
“What’s wrong?” Nicky asks.
What’s wrong is that their fans are breaking into weird, warring factions. However loud they were cheering before, they’re swearing even louder, knots and knots of them circling each other with intent. It’s almost artificial, like choreography, a chain reaction of bodies rearing back and charging.
He pushes to the lip of the stage for a better vantage point, and someone grabs his ankle from below. He stomps down onto the person’s face until they let go, but the momentum has him reeling backwards into Neil’s keyboard, which clatters awkwardly off its stand and unplugs itself.
“Shit!” someone says.
“Are you okay?”
“Come on, Andrew!”
He ignores them, gritting his teeth and dragging himself to his knees. He counts heads again. Aaron. Nicky. Kevin.
“Where’s Neil?” he yells. Aaron, Nicky, Kevin.
Nicky shakes his head down at him, looking completely bewildered.
Their security is conspicuously absent, and the audience is swelling nearer and nearer to the stage. An impossibly loud alarm drones to life overhead, and when everyone cranes to look for the source, the sprinklers turn on.
Mayhem.
Water sluices down on all of that violence and turns to steam. He sees someone backhand Aaron, and the force of his anger is so great that his teeth crack in his mouth.
He catches a stream of water in the eye and is momentarily blinded, still caught half-slouched on his knees. Something clips his temple, hard. He barely throws his hands out in time to catch himself before the stage can slam up into his face. His vision pulses and doubles.
He relives the moment of Aaron getting hit, and then he relives the way Neil disappeared backstage. Something hot swoops in his chest.
“Andrew, we have to go,” Aaron says. His hand is fisted in Andrew’s collar. The crowd is close enough that he can feel their breath and hands, and he can’t fucking see.
He lets Aaron pull him upright. Kevin ducks close through the crowd, and Andrew squints at the dark shape of him through his functioning eye. Nicky is at the side of the stage with fistfuls of curtain, chewing his lip. Aaron, Nicky, Kevin.
Someone in a pencil skirt and a headset ushers them out through the throng and past the stacks of damp equipment. Everyone’s talking and screaming and pushing and no one’s helping.
Employees of the venue are soaked to the bone, arms full of electronics, rushing back and forth from the stage. Andrew’s feet weave dangerously. He can see a red bruise ringing Kevin’s throat, and through another blazing torch of fury, he has the sudden impression that he might have lost a little time, laid out on stage.
“Where’s Neil?” his mouth says.
The woman in the skirt smiles crookedly at him. Her pupils are just barely ringed with dark brown iris. “Oh, Neil? He’s taken care of.”
He doesn’t even think about it — he lunges at her. Aaron grabs him around the neck.
“What the fuck, Andrew?” he hisses.
“This is a set up,” he snarls. All three of them converge around him, looking nervous and battered. Behind them, a slow grin peels the woman’s mouth back. “The whole mob is premeditated.”
“Mosh pits just go bad sometimes,” Nicky says slowly. “It’s not your fault.”
“Of course not,” the woman says, pouting with fake sympathy. She takes a step backwards, tilting her head thoughtfully this way and that, then turns on her heel. He lurches after her, but a wave of dizziness takes him almost to his knees again. He looks up through sweaty bangs, and his eyes catch on a flash of copper.
“No,” he says.
A little key is sitting unassumingly on an amp next to the open backstage door.
Neil’s key.
“No,” he repeats. A padlock inside of him clicks open and drops out. Is he—is he—is this—
“They took him,” he chokes. “We have to find him.” I need him. He recoils from the impact of his own feelings. His breath comes out ragged as weakness beats down on him, relentless as hailstones. He knows that nothing would make Neil willingly leave his key behind. Nothing would drive him off stage a second before he had to go, not even a brawl.
“We just saw him,” Kevin says, confused.
“He probably just wanted to get ahead of the crowd, right?” Nicky says.
Andrew shakes his head. Neil told him over and over that someone was coming for him. He lay next to him and tapped a nervous tattoo into his bare chest. He looked over his shoulder constantly, viciously, like a snake contorting to bite its own tail. He sat in their kitchen on the eve of their concert and begged Andrew to let him go.
No, Andrew thinks. Not him.
Somewhere deep in his head, through tundra and rot, the version of him that used to beg for things rattles his cage. Please, he says. Please.
“Woah, hey,” Nicky says, as Andrew pushes past the tangle of their arms and over to the door. He peers out into the parking lot, full of terrible, stinging fear. The crowd continues outside for what seems like miles, but Neil is long gone. He scans passing faces anyway. His eyes burn and blur, and he realizes with a sick jolt that they’re full of tears.
“Go to the dressing room and lock the door,” Andrew says. He can’t look back at them. He wrests a short knife free from his armband and passes it to Kevin handle-first. “If anyone comes near you, kill them.”
“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Aaron says.
“Where are you going?” Nicky asks.
Andrew doesn’t reply. He climbs heavily down the cement stairs and into the fray, feeling like he’s creeping out of a nightmare he’s never been self-aware enough to have before.
His vision is bruised and wrong. People quickly begin to flock to him, out of misplaced rage or a warped sense of protection. He cuts through them indiscriminately. When he takes a stray fist to the gut he twists and snaps their fingers in half. He feels arms trying to loop into his and he cuffs them in the temples, takes them out at the knees, crunches their toes under his heel.
He searches for fantastically blue eyes in every face he sees, and shoves them angrily away when he doesn’t see what he wants to see.
Andrew circles the entire venue, but Neil is nowhere. Ten minutes ago, he’d been holding him by the wrists, and now he’s gone. There are no suspicious tire tracks in the gravel or out of place footprints because there are dozens of both. There is so much noise and motion that the crime scene never got a chance to settle.
He can feel real emotion on his face. He hasn’t been this deeply unhinged in years. Somehow he comes face to face with the backstage door again, and he stumbles. His thoughts are racing so far beyond him that his hands twitch, as if he could physically reach out and catch them. He thinks of the woman with the wide, gleeful eyes. Thank you, Neil had said. Thank you. Thank you. Goodbye.
He remembers there being security, and he remembers them coming and going in shifts -- new, dark eyebrows hunched over new, dark eyes, the flash of a silver weapon at someone’s hip.
He thinks of Neil nearly singing himself to death. Neil against him, flushed pink in a patchy, embarrassed sort of way, asking to be distracted from ghosts that Andrew could almost touch if he just held him hard enough. Neil inside a Moriyama tornado, touching down just barely in their kitchen, and confessing—He told me things about my past—
Andrew’s heart thrashes with adrenaline. He tears up the steps to the door and into the humidity backstage. The sprinklers have been shut off, and now there are a trio of heavy duty mops being dragged through the sopping mess on stage. He takes the hallway to the dressing room at a run, kicking up puddles as he goes. He rattles the doorknob.
“Kevin,” he says. The door sweeps open. He stumbles inside, getting his hands in Kevin’s shirt and using his momentum to take them both all the way back to the mirrors.
“Andrew, we couldn’t, I’m sorry, there’s—someone’s been killed,” Nicky wails.
Andrew reels. His grip loosens and Kevin squirms away. “Is it—“
“No,” Aaron cuts in. “Neil’s still AWOL.”
“Call Riko,” Andrew demands.
Kevin falters. His expression rumples with hurt. “What?”
Slowly, Aaron says, “Riko wouldn’t.”
Andrew grabs at the lapels of Kevin’s jacket, struggling to communicate how dire the situation is without losing control altogether.
“I need you to call Riko.”
“Don’t ask me to do that,” Kevin says quietly.
“He knows who Neil really is,” Andrew insists. “I need to talk to him.”
______
Nathaniel wakes up in the trunk of a car, with the sweet, woozy taste of chloroform on his lips. He tries to roll over, but his knees hit the door, and the cuffs clipped around his wrists pull painfully. His eyes are crusted closed with blood.
Pain and panic plug back into his brain and flood his entire system. He can’t help it—he screams through his gag. Someone bangs heavily on the seat closest to his head, and he swallows his agony as best he can.
Methodically, he makes his body relax. His heartbeat wrenches back and forth like it’s stumbling around the deck of a ship. They rattle over a speed bump, and he stiffens in his restraints, trying to avoid jostling his wounds.
He remembers everything in feverish sequence.
The way he’d changed hands again and again, caught first in the palm of the audience, and then in Andrew’s sweet, burning grip. He remembers pulling away only to be intercepted by Jackson and Romero, who each took an arm and forced him through the mob so roughly that he might’ve lost a layer of skin. And he remembers Lola parting the crowd to get to him, sharp nails outstretched.
He’s been so stupid. He’s been so complacent that violence actually managed to surprise him.
Lola had bullied him into a backseat at knifepoint, and as soon as they’d switched to a more nondescript car, she’d started interrogating him in earnest.
The fifth time he insisted that his mother was dead, she’d switched weapons. A handy little vegetable peeler that she yanked up his forearms and stroked over the slope of his left eyebrow down to his cheek. She’d cooed in his ear what she might do with the pieces of his skin, after. It was tradition, Nathaniel remembered, for her to tell her victims what kind of fun she would have with their corpses.
He can feel the patchwork her blades made of his arms and hands, oozing beneath his clothes. Some of his fingers are cut almost down to the joint.
His head pounds from the drugs and his wounds throb terribly, but even in the middle of screaming pain he knows that it’s nothing. He knows where he’s going. You don’t worry about the cracks in the road when you’re headed for a sink hole.
Lola had told him about Nathan’s parole from a year long stint in jail, how he’d seen Ausreißer on television in the prison rec room. Nathaniel had been promoted to the top of his to-find list.
The car beneath him makes a messy left turn and jostles a tear of out him. It escapes down into his bloody hairline and he screws his eyes shut.
He thinks of the gnarls in the sidewalk where weeds always grow through. He thinks of the cardboard pints of ice cream growing icicles in their freezer. He thinks of Dan’s dimples when she throws her whole head back to laugh, Matt and Nicky’s complicated handshake, Allison’s tender half-smile. He thinks of Andrew’s rough fingers in his hair.
Then he thinks of his nails scratching against the bulb of the microphone as he forced himself to let go. The blood-tangy smell of his key ring when he held it to his mouth like a rosary, slipping his copper key out of place.
He always thought that staying in Maryland would be the most painful thing he could do, but returning is much worse.
For so long he felt like a refugee from a world that only his father could control. He spent a decade exploring the places and people that Nathan had never touched, and he almost let himself believe that he could live somewhere good. He’d nearly died for the love of somewhere else. And now he’s being dragged back to the hideous place where he was born.
Ausreißer will be left without a lead singer, he realizes. With an achy sort of pride, he know that they’re too strong for it to affect them for long. They were a band without him, and now they always will be.
The car speeds up, maybe exiting onto a freeway, and he lets the motion jar him to the deepest part of the trunk. Not long now. Dosed with chloroform and left to bleed, he knows this is the last peace he will know in his life.
______
They’re all standing in a tense circle in Wymack’s office, the four remaining monsters, Wymack and Abby crushed into twin rolling chairs behind the desk, Foxes hovering against the cabinets on the far wall.
Kevin’s on the phone, one hand smothering the shape of it, and the other clapped over his free ear.
It doesn’t last long, maybe twenty-five seconds in which Riko gleans who's calling, gloats briefly into the phone, and promises to be there with full retinue as soon as he’s able. It’s humiliating to play his game for even a second. It’s a farce and a betrayal.
“Well?” Wymack asks. “Someone want to explain to me why we’re missing pieces, here?”
“Yeah, and why we’re going to Riko fucking Moriyama for help?” Matt chimes in.
“I don’t know,” Kevin says weakly. He’s already fumbling in Wymack’s liquor cabinet.
“You don’t know,” Dan repeats. “You called us out here for what, then? To show us that you have the mafia on speed dial?”
“Andrew thinks Riko might know where Neil is,” Nicky explains.
“Why don’t you know where Neil is?” Allison asks. Her arms are crossed and her eyes are narrowed and Andrew has less than zero patience. He’s going to start throwing punches just to connect with something.
“Because everything went to shit,” Nicky says. “The set was fine, but then Neil came on for the encore like—really late, sang his fucking brains out, and left. I don’t know why. I don’t know—the whole venue went to hell. We lost track of everyone for a while. It was such bad timing.”
“It wasn’t,” Andrew says. “It was a diversion, set off exactly when Neil said it would be.”
“Cool. What spy movie do you think this is?”
Andrew slaps Allison across the face. He doesn’t even fight it when Renee wrenches his hands behind his back.
“Fuck you,” she says, shellshocked.
“Fuck you,” Andrew seethes. “Neil’s running on borrowed time, and you are wasting it.”
“What makes you so sure about this?” Dan asks. She’s always so shrewdly focused exactly where the answers are. It makes her a deadly leader.
“Yeah,” Matt says. “I really hate to say it, but Neil disappears sometimes. How do we know he didn’t freak out in the crowd and run away?”
Andrew shakes Renee off so he can pull Neil’s key out of his jeans pocket. He steps forward and slides it out onto the desk.
Wymack picks it up between two fingers. “What does this open?”
“That’s not—is that Neil’s key to the house?” Nicky asks. Andrew nods. “Oh.”
“What?” Dan asks.
“No, nothing, just…” Nicky shrugs. “He’s protective of his stuff.”
“Wonder where he gets that,” Allison says, eyeing Andrew. Her cheek is puffy pink.
“He wouldn’t have left it,” Kevin says, ignoring her. “He wouldn’t have been late to our encore, either. He’s always the first person on stage.”
“So where is he?” Renee asks, business-like.
“Taken,” Andrew says. If he could take a bite out of the slow, buffering tension in the room, he would break all his teeth.
In his head, he never lets Neil get out of his bed, and he breaks that mysterious phone of his, and he kills anyone who gets close to either of them. He can’t swallow when he thinks about Neil’s pain. His brain takes him to the threshold of a hundred terrible rooms where Neil could be, and he uses all of his energy staggering away, again and again and again.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Abby whispers. Andrew eyes her, scarcely able to believe that she’s there, or that she has an opinion. She hides her shaking hands beneath the lip of the desk.
“So we’re inviting Riko to the search party?” Matt asks.
Kevin drinks whiskey from the bottle, his eyes pinned somewhere out the window where none of them can follow. He licks his lips. “The Moriyamas have more connections than you could ever imagine.”
“Yeah, but we’re not exactly friends. How do we know he wasn’t the one who kidnapped Neil in the first place?”
“I would know,” Kevin says. His eyebrows knit together. “He would’ve told me.”
Andrew can’t stand the look on his face. Like he’s been bracing for impact but someone else took the hit instead.
He has to leave the room. He walks all the way down the main hallway to the door before he realizes he can’t just get in his car and drive away. He’s stuck here, waiting for a man he wants dead to give him information that Neil would rather die than give out.
He spins and stuffs all of his weight into his knuckles. Connects with the clean white wall. The pain explodes so exquisitely up his arm that he thinks it’ll kill his feelings, but it doesn’t. He should never have broken their deal. The regret is a pressure cuff around his skull and it tightens every time he thinks about it.
“This is a nightmare,” Aaron says, like he just stepped out of Andrew’s head. He does that, sometimes.
“I’m not talking about this,” he replies, without turning.
“Whatever,” Aaron says. “I didn’t ask you to.”
He turns, then. “Then why did you follow me?”
Aaron just looks coolly back at him. I had to, his eyes say. “Abby started crying. Looked like Kevin might be next. I didn’t want to be there.”
Andrew stares at him. He can’t imagine what his face is doing. He’s trying so hard not to shake and swerve and unhitch from himself that he forgot to keep the screws tight on his expression.
“Riko’s not going to help us,” Aaron says slowly. “You know that. He does what he wants.”
“We have something he wants,” Andrew says tonelessly.
Aaron folds his arms, uncomfortable. “So… what? Kevin for Neil?”
“No,” he says, agitated.
“Then what? Everyone in there is petrified of Riko, and they think you have a plan.”
“Aaron,” Andrew says. His voice is thick and dark. “I just need to get him back.”
Aaron squints at him. His mouth twists like he’s compensating for a fat lip. “I wish you would stop caring about people you’re going to lose.”
Andrew clenches his fist and feels the bruises pull. He parcels his grief into a box that won’t break his knees to carry, and pushes out into the parking lot, away from Aaron’s grubby, regretful silence. He wants to remember what high ground feels like. He wants to see Riko’s shiny black SUV coming.
______
Dan puts a hand on Neil’s knee.
“You ready?” she asks. She’s holding a folder of music too loosely, and sheets of it are pulling free and swishing to the floor.
“He's not,” Andrew says. As soon as Neil looks at him, he is very very close. His speckled eyes flare up and dilate. Neil starts to shut his own eyes and Andrew says, “don’t”. The ceiling wheels above him, instead.
There’s someone up there, on the ceiling. He can’t make them out.
Andrew and Dan are talking around him, low and silky.
“You should play,” Dan says, except now she’s his mother, and she’s pointing at a keyboard made of knives.
“It’ll hurt.”
Mary shrugs.
“Don’t,” Andrew repeats.
He stretches his hands out.
As soon as he looks down at his fingers, smooth and unbloodied, he realizes he’s dreaming.
In the dream, Neil starts to play.
In the Wesninskis’ basement, Nathaniel wakes up.
______
Riko is half-reclined on a table in their practice room, shiny boot propped up on a chair. Jean stands stiffly next to him, eyes downcast.
“Are you going to propose an exchange, or shall I?”
“You tell us and live, or you don’t and you die,” Andrew says, barely staying fixed in place by the door, corded with rage.
“We don’t strike deals with bullies,” Dan says. “And we’re not bargaining for Neil’s safety, come on.”
“I will do anything for Neil’s safety,” Andrew says rashly. All of his blood is outside of his body. All of his feelings are confetti and they’re getting in everyone’s hair and eyes and collars.
“I am relieved to hear it. Give me Kevin,” Riko says smugly. He’s enjoying himself. The vicious panic in the room is a cresting wave and Riko is gliding atop it.
Kevin makes a cut-off sound. Jean winces.
Andrew bares his teeth and lunges for Riko, and when Renee catches him across the chest, he rears back and fists his own hair. “Don’t—“ Andrew starts, but he can’t finish the sentence without tearing himself to shreds.
“We’re not giving you anything,” Matt interrupts. “We don’t even know for sure that it’s not you who did this.”
“All the more reason to work with me,” Riko says. “I could make the trade directly.”
“This is crazy,” Dan says. “This is crazy.”
Riko eyes her distastefully. “It’s business.”
“We’ll disband,” Nicky says. “We’ll— I don’t know. We’ll go into fucking hiding.”
“Nicky,” Wymack warns. “Don’t start making promises you don’t understand.”
“We’re not just—this is our livelihood,” Aaron says. “We’ll find another way.”
“This is nothing,” Andrew says. He’s been trying to wrap his head around a hundred deals made of blood, and Aaron can’t even put his guitar down to save Neil’s life.
“I’ll take your silence,” Riko muses, examining the clean pressed cuffs of his shirt. “And your savings.”
“You can’t make demands like that,” Wymack rumbles.
“You called me,” Riko says. “What did you expect?”
What did they expect? What was the plan? Andrew climbs back through his memory of the last hour and all he can see is panels and panels of his own fear, like a house of mirrors. He had been so lit up, so completely incandescent with rage, that he briefly thought he could make anyone do anything if it would save Neil’s life. Even bend the Yakuza to his will. Even bargain with nothing in his hands.
“You are wasting my time,” Riko says.
“You’re wasting Neil’s!” Dan exclaims. “Just tell us who’s after him. Give us a name. It won’t cost you fucking anything.”
“He probably doesn’t even know anything. He’s just covering his ass,” Allison says.
“You’re naive,” Riko replies narrowly. “Neil’s death is advantageous for me. Someone has crossed an item off of my checklist. Until you can promise me something better, you are exactly useless to me.”
He sets both feet down and uses Jean’s shoulder as leverage to stand.
He stops in front of Kevin and says, “I’m not surprised that you’re too much of a coward to save a friend. You couldn’t even save yourself.”
Kevin closes his eyes, breathing quickly through his nose, too terrified to be offended.
“If he’s dead,” Andrew says. “So are you.”
“Intimidating,” Riko says, smiling.
He makes for the door, but Wymack bars his way.
“We’ll make a deal,” he says. “Just—“
“Too late,” Riko says. “I’ve lost interest. I admit I would’ve liked to have killed Neil myself, but I know he’s in good hands.”
“Oh, fuck this,” Matt says, muscling across the room. No one moves to stop him, and when he’s close enough that Riko has to look up into his face, he grabs him around the shoulders and punches him in the eye. Nicky yelps and Allison cheers.
The dam broken, Andrew wrestles out from under Renee’s thumb, fumbling for a knife in his armband.
Jean steps neatly in front of him. “I would not.”
Someone tugs Andrew backwards, but he’s finished with being held back. He decks Jean in the face and ducks under his out-flung arms to get at Riko. His already bruised knuckles swim with pain.
They tussle, briefly, and between snatches of violence he can see that blood is turning one of Riko’s eyes red in sick parallel to Andrew’s.
“Come on. Andrew, come on! This isn’t helping Neil.” Aaron wrenches on one arm and Wymack takes the other. They haul him backwards.
He catches sight of Renee dabbing at Riko’s bloody mouth and feels betrayal rip through him like prairie fire. Everything is heightened and swollen in his head. Every feeling he’s suppressed for ten years is clambering forward at once.
Riko is righting himself, dusting his hands off, pulling Jean back into his fold like a wayward dog. Two more figures in black have appeared at the door, weapons drawn.
“That was a mistake,” Riko says simply. He steps outside, and his entourage follows him down the hall. Jean looks backwards for a second, eyes wide, and then he’s gone.
“Okay so. We find another way,” Dan says. “We look through Neil’s stuff, we turn everything inside out.”
“I think he was too careful for that,” Nicky says. “He was like a ghost in our house.”
“So we, we, I don’t know, we go to the library and do some research.”
The adrenaline from the fight is still zipping around Andrew’s head like an electric halo. He wants to tell them to look in the duffel bag in Neil’s bottom drawer, to scour the internet for Nathaniels from Baltimore, but he can’t hand over Neil’s secrets even now.
“It’s been hours,” Kevin says quietly.
“He’s not dead,” Matt says. “He’s not.”
“You don’t know that,” Kevin says, even quieter.
“It won’t matter, anyway, because Riko’s going to kill the rest of us,” Aaron says. “Thanks for that, Matt.”
“Was I supposed to do nothing?” Matt says. “The things he was saying—“
“—were just words,” Aaron interrupts.
Matt’s expression breaks, a fissure of disappointment all the way down to his neck. “I thought your brother was the heartless one.”
“God, stop. We’re haemorrhaging time, here,” Dan says. “We need to do something.”
“What? What could we possibly do? We’re not detectives,” Aaron says. “What do we even really know about Neil?”
“Nathaniel.”
They all look dumbly at the open doorway.
Jean Moreau is standing in it, looking petrified.
“Nathaniel Wesninski,” he says breathlessly. “His father took him. The Butcher of Baltimore. I do not know their address, but I know they have political money. Influence. It would be somewhere big and well-situated for body disposal.”
The flush of information takes Andrew completely down. The ways Neil lied to him and the ways he didn’t are equally difficult to face.
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” Wymack says.
“Nathan’s alive?” Andrew demands. All the eyes in the room bore into his face.
Jean nods jerkily. “And furious.”
“How much time does he have?”
“I don’t know,” Jean says. “It will have taken hours just to get there. And the butcher is not one to be rushed.” His eyes dart nervously towards the door. “I have to go.”
“Why are you doing this for us?” Renee asks softly.
Jean looks at her for a long moment, and he sucks a shuddering breath in through his mouth. “I have to go,” he repeats, and he stumbles back into the hallway.
Almost instantly, the room explodes into action.
“Do we trust him? We trust him, right?” Nicky asks.
“What exactly are our options?” Dan says irritably.
“Call the Baltimore PD,” Wymack says. “Call the fucking fire department.”
“I’m on it,” Allison’s saying, flipping her phone open and loping out of the room.
“I don’t understand exactly what’s going on and I don’t need to,” Wymack says. “We get him back alive first and then we can talk about this.”
“We’re going, right?” Matt says. “We’re not just going to sit here?”
“We’re going,” Wymack confirms. “Neil or Nathaniel or whatever, he’s one of us.”
Andrew could collapse. He feels like he’s had his face to a sanding belt for four hours, and now he’s dust and scraps.
Despite all the gaps and inconsistencies between Neil’s story and Jean’s, Andrew doesn’t feel particularly lied to. He’d seen Neil’s face. He’d seen the colour and shape of his fear. He knew what it meant.
He remembers promising Neil that he would have killed Nathan if given the chance, and he knows now that he will.
______
His head rolls on tough cement. When he squints his eyes open, he sees long, slippery shadows shifting down the stairs towards him. The air smells coppery and antiseptic, but there's peppery cologne there too.
His father’s cellar.
Nathaniel unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Lola must have dosed him again, and from the red-hot burning lancing down his arms, she and Malcolm must have wrestled him down here none too gently.
He’s dazed and vulnerable enough that he forgets not to look in the corner of his head where Ausreißer and Foxes and Palmetto have been locked away, and the pain is so great that he wishes for unconsciousness again.
He bites the inside of his lip and forces himself still. He’s not cuffed, and he thinks he might have a slim window in which he can get behind Lola and her gun and give himself a chance.
It feels impossible. He’s so injured and woozy that he’s struggling to stay awake, and beneath his chest, his curled, bloodied right hand can’t even form a fist.
He thinks of the distance he’d tried to put between himself and this house, and how time is an elaborate bow that tugs undone as soon as you go back to the place you grew up. He spent years trying to become something new, and someone simply plucked his mask off. He is Nathaniel again.
Murmuring voices reach him through space and memory, and he’s keenly aware of who they belong to. Nathan, certainly, and probably his lapdog DiMaccio. He can feel Lola sitting a few feet away, her nails clinking against the barrel of her gun.
“I know you’re awake,” Lola singsongs. It’s a crushing blow, and Nathaniel grips onto his own disappointment, like he’s holding a blade with his hands so it can’t pierce his throat.
“Barely,” he replies hoarsely. “I’m getting my bearings.”
“Well don’t work too hard at it. You’re about to be scattered again.” She sounds deeply pleased by the thought of it.
He takes great pains to roll onto his side. He looks blearily across at Lola, who is still in her pencil skirt, clean cut. His vision is clouded by blood, one eye screwed up like a gnarled root where the peeler had ripped almost through his eyelid. He feels like he’s in another reality from her. He can barely see his grinning gravedigger from the bottom of the pit.
“Do you ever let people go?” he asks.
She considers this. “Only if I know I can catch them again. A little chase is good for the craft.”
“Murder,” he coughs. “Call it what it is.”
She raises her hands. “Oh, I leave the killing to the experts, Junior, you know that.” The top stair creaks, and she perks up like a trained dog. “Speaking of experts.”
There’s a brief, plodding descent into the cellar, the sound of a hand skimming over a metal railing.
And then Nathan’s in the room.
He fills it up so instantly and unrelentingly, like a flash flood. He is crisp and causal, hair cropped much shorter than Nathaniel’s now, chest thinner from his months in prison.
“On your feet, Junior,” he orders. “I won’t have you insulting me even further.”
Nathaniel hobbles upright. It’s terrible, but if he were here now, I know I’d do anything he asked. He’d said that to Andrew, not long ago. He knew it was true because he never really left this cellar. He’s never forgotten Nathan’s grip around his throat.
He keeps his hands carefully to himself as Nathan yanks him around, pulling his new injuries open. It’s an old dance, but Nathaniel can tell that his father is no longer taking pleasure in it. Nathaniel has ceased to be a pliable partner.
The news about Mary’s death briefly seems to sideline him, but he quickly regains his balance.
“So you made a name for yourself,” Nathan says, holding Nathaniel up by the face. “Did you forget that I had already given you one?”
“I didn’t think you wanted a failure as an heir,” he chokes.
“I certainly didn’t. But you belong to me, and only I can break or discard you. It means something that you have my face. I can’t allow you to run away, squander my resources, and parade your defiance through the mainstream media.” He squeezes Nathaniel’s raw cheeks. “I’m going to enjoy silencing you.”
Nathaniel shuts his eyes and feels his hope withering and dropping off its stem.
“Look at me,” Nathan demands. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”
Nathaniel wets his lips. “No, sir.”
“Me neither,” Nathan admits. “I’m waiting to be inspired. This,” he gestures to the bleak but sterile corners of his basement. “Is my stage.”
He heaves Nathaniel into the wall, and crushes his forearm into his windpipe. “I think I might shut you up for good. You thought your voice would carry you out of my reach, didn’t you? How about I cut out your tongue?”
“N—no,” he says, aborted, hating his own weakness. “You can’t. Please.”
He struggles to hold Nathaniel’s mouth open through his thrashing and clamping teeth. He holds one hand out, and DiMaccio crosses the room with a selection of Nathan’s favourite weapons. Nathan accepts a sleek carving knife, and Nathaniel shakes his head.
“No, don’t.”
“Stand still or I take a lip as well,” Nathan says.
Nathaniel stills, letting out a thin, terrified breath as Nathan wedges the dull side of the blade into his mouth. He pries his jaw open, and props the knife edgewise between the rows of his teeth. He makes an amused noise, and pinches the ball of Nathaniel’s piercing between his thumb and forefinger. He retracts the blade to give himself room to work.
“You think you’re a rockstar, don’t you?” He yanks on the piercing until Nathaniel tastes blood. “You’ve always been baselessly arrogant.”
Nathaniel bites down on his father’s fingers. He’s released and stumbling before he can linger in the gravity of what he’s just done. His mouth floods with even more blood, and he reels around and spits it in Lola’s face. He dodges her waving gun and puts all his weight into body-slamming her into the wall. She croaks and drops, but he’s so unsteady that he falls with her. The gun goes skidding into the centre of the room.
He rolls as Nathan slashes in his direction. The knife doesn’t have as much reach as his usual cleaver, and it tears gracelessly through the air.
Nathaniel’s sliced hands take the agonizing brunt of the damage as he pulls himself onto his knees, trying furiously to get his feet under him. He catches sight of his father’s mangled fingers and DiMaccio’s furious face, and panic surges in his gut. He reaches for Lola’s gun at the same time that she does.
She’s faster.
His slippery hand glances off the handle, and she whirls and pistol-whips him across the face. She’s not smiling anymore.
Nathan is upon them in an instant, his expression wild. “Enough.”
“Just let me go,” Nathaniel begs, knowing how fruitless it is but unable to stop himself from speaking what could be his last words. “Let me go and I’ll—“ Nathan ignores him, and puts the knife across his mouth like he’s about to chop into an apple. The blade threatens to cleave his jaw from the rest of his head.
“I’ve heard enough from you,” Nathan says, and he begins to cut.
#i hope the pov shifts don't make you seasick lmao#the foxhole court#andreil#aftg#tfc fanfic#rockband au#violence tw#I mean it#drugs tw#mine
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