#he ended up spending the rest of that summer in Columbia with Andrew and Neil | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

side-effect-of-the-meds · 4 years

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So Andrew had a pretty high tolerance to drugs yeah? What if... What if he had to get his wisdom teeth out or get an appendectomy or something, and he's given painkillers and is sent back home to recover, but the drugs aren't doing hardly anything and Andrew is not a happy bean. So Neil has to somehow take care of a stubborn Andrew through his painful recovery and there be feels my dude. Maybe even the rest of his family or the foxes help a bit too somehow.

He’s benched for a week bc, despite his refusal to admit it, Wymack knows Andrew is in a lot of pain. That’s just about the only upside to this whole shit show.Fortunately, it’s also the middle of summer so he doesn’t have classes or he’d probably break some poor fool’s face for not shutting up.

Whenever the Foxes are running drills, Andrew doesn’t have to be out there to watch. Instead, Andrew spends the week watching old tapes and finding the weaknesses in the teams’ lines and pestering Wymack. Babie is cranky so he keeps poking at Wymack’s things and just being a little shit. He finds a box of rubber bands and keeps shooting Wymack with them. Once it gets too much, Wymack caves and call in a favor from two states over.

It’s like day 3 of Andrew and his bullshit when Matt arrives. It’s his first year pro but he’s not going to let his baby suffer on his own. He’s waiting for Andrew in Wymack’s office when he gets to the court. Andrew definitely does not try to kiss him only to find out that kissing HURTS SO SO BAD! No more kissies for Andrew. He’s very angry bc Neil and Matt are making out right in front of him and he doesn’t get to participate. They end up asking very politely if they might give him smooches. As soon as they get the okay, the right for his neck. Andrew doesn’t need pain meds when he’s got his boys lavishing attention on him.

Anyway, now that Matt is there to be a distraction, Wymack thinks he’s finally going to get some peace. He is wrong. Matt spends all his time snuggling Andrew under a massive fan bc its so fucking hot. Wymack wants to get mad but this is about as relaxed as he’s seen Andrew in a while so he shuts up.

The boys make frequent trips to the cornerstore and come back with a shit ton on ice cream that Matt insists on feeding Andrew. Neil is anger. He wants to get to coddle Andrew too >:(

The week drags on and Andrew’s mood has lifted with the arrival of Matt. The pain is still too much for him though so he chucks the keys at Aaron in a silent request for him to drive them to Columbia. Aaron is shook. Andrew has NEVER let him drive his car before. He doesn’t say anything about it or the fact that Andrew is now sitting in the back seat between Matt and Neil. Nicky, however, won’t shut up about it. The drive out to Columbia is a long one

A very salty Andrew sits at the club with Matt and Neil who won't shut up about exy while Nicky and Aaron have their share of fun. When they get home, a very drunk Nicky finds his way to the kitchen and drags a significantly less inebriated Aaron. Nicky’s had this hair-brained scheme to make ice-cream for Andrew. Doing so is an absolute ordeal, especially bc they don’t just have an ice-cream churner on hand, but they manage it.

When Andrew comes downstairs the next morning, covered in far too many hickies for Aaron to be okay with, their ice cream is waiting for him. It’s not very good but Andrew eats the whole bowl that Nicky served for him. Is it because Andrew will eat literally anything or because he knows the amount of work that went into it, the world will never know.

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jsteneil · 6 years

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Dan is the closest of the Foxes to Palmetto, working in DC where the others have migrated North or East, with Kevin down in Texas as one sweaty exception. She visits more than the others, hopping in and out of her car on occasions, and always comes in the Foxhole court holding a large to-go cup from the campus’ coffee, looking radiant and focused.

Neil smiles more easily, these days, and he never fights the natural inclination of his mouth when he sees Dan and lets himself be hugged, maybe a bit tighter than someone who doesn’t answer to the name of Dan Wilds would.

“Rookie,” she calls, lobbing her paper cup in the garbage one day. Half of the freshmen turn their tired faces to her, dragging their feet after today’s hard practice.

Neil smiles. “Dan,” he greets, and waves his team away. Robin steals his car keys on her way out, clearly not eager to repeat the time she had to wait half an hour in the cold for Neil and Dan to finish talking.

Dan lifts an eyebrow. She knows Robin from last year, when Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky were still there to share a bedroom that now feels to big for two people, but she’s emboldened over the summer. Neil is quietly proud of her, like warming his hands to the residual heat of a slow-burning fire.

“I’ll run,” Neil says with a shrug. “I haven’t been jogging as I should lately.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, “maybe because there’s actual frost on the ground. Don’t be crazy, I’ll drive you back.”

“Okay,” Neil accepts, because he’s gotten better at acknowledging the casualness of the Foxes’ kindness. “Wanna get out of here?”

Dan’s hand flies to her chest.

“Who are you and what have you done with Neil Josten, local exy court vermin?”

“I don’t actually live here.”

“Then you can explain to me why I’ve found you sleeping on those damn couches more times than I can count,” a gruff voice says from behind them. “Get out of here.”

Wymack emerges from his office with his usual stack of papers and grumpy expression. Neil knows how much Dan means to him and how long they talked on the outer ring during the last half of practice, so he understands the way Dan laughs with her teeth and turns around to hold the door open.

“We’re having dinner at Abby’s tonight,” Dan says as they make their way to Dan’s rental car. “Wanna come?”

Tonight is the Foxes’ movie night. Neil quickly calculates pros and cons: Indian take-out in a room crowded with people he already spends too much time with everyday, or in Abby’s kitchen with some of the people who count the most in his life.

“Sure.”

He sends a message to Robin to tell her not to wait for him to start the movie, then closes the door of the car on the uncharacteristically cold winter.

“So how’s the team?” Neil asks at the same time Dan does, backing out of her parking space. They share a grin: Dan’s enthusiasm for the sport will never be on the same level as Kevin’s or Neil’s, but he likes more detached outlook she brings to the conversation nonetheless. Probably because exy means less to her than to him—although Neil’s had some difficulties wrapping his mind around this truth in the beginning—Dan is particularly soothing to talk to. Andrew suggested once that it may be because she refuses to make herself insane for something as inconsequential as exy, but Neil would rather bet that it was a thinly-veiled insult thrown to Kevin’s obsession.

“We’re getting into the season on a strong foot,” Dan says finally after Neil gestures for her to speak first. “The changes we’ve brought to the starting line are already showing results.”

“Drafting Perez was a risky move,” Neil says, because his interest in pro teams has considerably grown now that it’s a certainty of his future and not a dream sitting just out of his reach.

Dan’s smile grows sharper. To Neil, she’s still the young woman who led them all the way to finals in his freshman year.

“It was,” she agrees, “but it’s going to pay big time—we have a game with the Hawks next week, and I know where the odds are leaning.”

“I don’t bet,” Neil reminds her as they park in front of the Fox’s Paw, the campus coffee.

“Still? Neil, you have no respect for traditions.”

It’s true; mostly because he didn’t get to experience them before he met the Foxes. Dan keeps talking about the Eagles in the line to the counter, prompting questions in Neil’s mind that he never took into consideration before—it’s been three years, but it still feels weird that his captain ended on the other side of the plexiglass wall. Not wrong: Dan was made to mentor, but still.

Dan almost gets another coffee, then reconsiders and orders some kind of chocolate concoction that Andrew likes, provided they add cream and sugar in large quantity, because that’s Andrew’s favorite way to eat anything. A small stitch drills into his chest like he’s gulped too much air while running, like always when the realization comes that Andrew is miles away in a large city, and not smoking, up on the rooftop of their small world.

“So how’re you doing?” Dan asks, twirling the cream in her cup.

Neil hums in response. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. And without the bullshit?” She’s not fooled by his confused look. “Neil, I know how it is—”

He knows she does. In hindsight, he’s grateful for the reprieve she accorded him by talking so extensively about her team first.

“The first weeks are the worst,” Dan says, which Neil doesn’t believe because it’s already mid-November and Neil’s been feeling down since August, when Andrew moved to Boston for good.

Andrew flew down to Columbia two weekends ago, which means that Neil will fly north in ten days for Thanksgiving and spend the beginning of the week holed up in Andrew’s apartment with only each other, ice cream, alcohol, and cigarettes for company. The perspective brightens Neil’s immediate future, but it doesn’t relieve the constant ache of not having Andrew right next to him to exchange truths and stories with.

“Andrew came to our game against the Ravens two weeks ago,” Neil says instead of dwelling on the feeling.

“I saw on TV. The journalists had a field day.”

Neil nods slowly. He feels miserable, and he’s sure that Dan read it on every inch of his face. He longs briefly for the days when lying to the Foxes was as easy as breathing, when the reality of his feelings concerned him only.

“I find it easier to bear long distance if you talk about it,” Dan says finally, done with being subtle. “Nicky would agree.”

“You just want the gossip. How many bets?”

“There’s a consequential one on where you’ll spend Thanksgiving break. Renee says you’ll have a quiet week in Columbia, visit Bee. Nicky has quite a few bucks on you meeting in Boston and boning the entire time.” She winces. “Sorry, his words.”

Neil waves if it off. “I gathered.”

Dan huffs a laugh and drumrolls on the table, phone in hand. “Do I get to settle anything, or are you just going to send us a pic from Vietnam or something?”

“We wouldn’t fly anywhere this far,” Neil says, then relents: “Robin invited us to her parents’ for the day. I’m not sure Andrew will take her up on that offer, but we’ll see. We’ll spend the rest of the week in Boston, so I guess Nicky wins, for one.”

“Nicky only wins if you spend the whole time in bed,” Dan says delightfully as her fingers fly over her screen. “I don’t think I have to ask you how likely it is to happen.”

Neil snorts. “You’d think he’d have learned by now.”

“Renee’s happy you won’t be alone for the holidays,” Dan reads after her phone beeps a few times. “Allison is mad—she would’ve made three hundred bucks. Don’t look so pleased.”

“Don’t bet on my life.”

“Never gonna happen.”

They sip their drinks in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of the crowded coffee shop. Having Dan by his side in Palmetto is familiar, like the feeling of watching his shots land true. If Robin is his best friend, the quiet extension of himself, then Dan is his sister, warm, teasing, and proud.

“I miss him,” he admits, because he suddenly wants to. Andrew has always been a point of friction between them, but he can acknowledge the olive branch Dan has been offering him. He doesn’t mind taking it; the riverbanks are slippery enough as it is. “We talk a lot, but it’s not the same.”

They’re good at communication, because they can’t afford not to be, but most of their conversations are silent, exchanged through looks and actions. Neil knows Andrew enough by now to read his tone, what he leaves unsaid, but he misses the touches, the certainty of Andrew, there besides him.

Dan’s hand curls around her cup like she wants to grab for him but is restraining herself.

“Have you discussed the situation?”

“Of course. I thought long-distance was all about communication?”

“And Skype sex,” Dan adds with a grin curling her mouth.

Neil frowns. In a rare bout of sharing, he says: “Not likely.”

“Really.”

“I’m not discussing sex with you.” That’s a conversation for another day, possibly imaginary, definitely involving alcohol. Neil has managed to escape it so far by sticking close to Nicky, who, despite his own interest in the situation, is always prompt to deroute on his own sexual adventures and attract Aaron’s ire.

“Fine. Keep your gossip to yourself, ungrateful child.”

“I will.” He waits a beat then says: “He’s not happy there. He never says anything but I don’t think the team is right for him.”

“Problems with his teammates?”

Dan’s frown his sympathetic. Twice captain of her exy teams and now assistant coach, she knows exactly how much inside tensions can affect a player’s game—and their lives beyond.

“Whitney is outwardly homophobic and an asshole,” Neil says. Five years ago, he would never have thought he’d ever get so worked up about something not directly linked to his survival; five years ago, he also didn’t have Andrew Minyard in his life, to love and protect fiercely where Andrew himself doesn’t necessarily. “Andrew won’t stand for it forever.”

“You’re worried it’ll fall back on Andrew?”

Neil raises his hands in front of him, palms up. “Exy golden boy from an Ivy league college and three years of seniority. Andrew.” He tips his hands like scales. “You know what people are going to see, and you know that it won’t be the truth.”

“It might if someone can attest of Whitney’s slurs,” Dan says. “He doesn’t have a good reputation in the division. People talk. And I think Andrew knows better than pulling a knife under another coach than Wymack.”

“He doesn’t carry knives anymore. And that’s not the problem, is it?”

“No it’s not,” Dan sighs. “I’m sorry.”

She asks about the team to distract him after that, and it works—Neil will never miss a chance to talk exy, especially not when it’s his team, a responsibility he never thought he’d have. He remembers the sick feeling of fear and want when Wymack first told him about his future captaincy; some days, Neil can still feel it, curled tight in his stomach to make room for pride and affection, and all those other feelings that he’s learned along the way. He doesn’t need to ask Dan if it ever goes away. He’s not sure he wants it to.

They clear out their table a while later, when night has already fallen around the bright yellow streetlights, and head back to Dan’s car, jogging slightly to fight the cold. Neil leans his head on the window and staring outside past the fog of his breath on the glass, and only straightens when he sees the shape of Abby’s house, shadow pierced by large rectangles of light. Dan winds her arm over his shoulders when they get out the car and drags him to the door.

“We’re here!” she announces, opening the door left unlocked, as usual.

Neil sheds his coat and removes his shoes, padding in the kitchen to find Wymack and Abby prepping chicken around the table. A small pot is already simmering on the stove and filling the entire room with the smell of tomato and thyme. Abby gives them each a knife and different vegetables to peel; the celeri makes a cheerful crunching sound every time Neil lowers the blade.

“You’re a terrible cook,” Dan observes good-naturedly after Abby corrects him three times on how to best mince garlic. Neil doesn’t mind: he’s usually the first to admit that he doesn’t care all that much about cooking.

“I know,” he says, and thinks, Andrew prefers to do it anyway.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #neil josten #dan wilds #my writing #idk guys

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sylvesterelle · 4 years

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All for the game B I R D S l Andrew/Neil l Read on Ao3

He patted the dashboard near Andrew’s hand, not quite touching. “As long as you know you’re the prettiest bird of all.”

“I will push you out of this car, junkie.”

Or: something soft, and kind, and just between the two of them in the weeks after The King's Men.

“Bluebird.”

They were sitting, as they often sat, on the edge of the roof at Fox Tower, the sky in that slippery space between night and dawn.

“Hmm?” Neil asked, bleary with exhaustion and a sleepy satisfaction, a warmth that, improbably, hadn’t dimmed in the weeks since the season ended.

“Bluebird," Andrew repeated, arms hung over the newly-installed metal railing, eyes trained on everything and nothing.

Neil looked out over the parking lot, frowning. “Where? I don’t see one.”

Andrew flicked his cigarette ashes in Neil’s direction without looking. “Listen, junkie.”

Neil closed his eyes, uncharacteristically amenable. He hadn’t had much call to listen to bird song in his life, neither this one nor the one that came before.

For a minute, he didn’t hear much of anything. The muted hum of a lone car on the highway nearby, maybe. The steady sound of Andrew breathing beside him.

But there—was that?

It was soft, coming from the east. A few trilling notes, not really a song at all. But there was something in the sound. Something light that drew a faint pressure in his chest, an emotion he couldn’t really name.

He opened his eyes and looked closer at the trees beside the lot. There—a flash of blue in a Carolina pine.

Neil pulled his knee up, resting his chin there as he watched. "Pretty."

Andrew snorted. “Weak. If a sparrow, even a starling, comes, the parents won’t stay to protect the nest. Even if there’s eggs; even if they’ve hatched.”

The crease deepened between Neil’s brows. “What do the sparrows do?”

Andrew shrugged. “Kill them. Build their nest on the bodies, sometimes.”

“Naturally.”

The bluebird flew away, but the moment stretched on.

The blonde turned his gaze to him, level and unasking. Neil understood anyway.

“Yes,” he said, not lifting his head from his knee.

Andrew reached out with his free hand, threaded his fingers through Neil’s hair. Still auburn, but lightened by the sun as the weeks slipped toward summer.

They’d spent a lot of time on that roof, since the season ended. Midnight practices went later now that finals were over. And more often than not, Neil found his feet carrying him towards the stairs rather than to his room afterwards, no threat of classes or early morning practice calling out for better judgement. Sometimes following Andrew, sometimes of his own accord—though where Neil went, Andrew would inevitably follow.

It was still May, but the low country heat already lasted well into the night and they didn’t bother changing from their practice clothes. Their overheated skin cooling against stone was a welcome relief, the air humid and heavy as it washed over them.

The campus lights drowned out some of the stars, but not all—not the brightest. Neil pointed out his favorites, the markers and constellations his mother had forced him to learn not for their beauty, but for their usefulness in case he got lost. In case he needed to run with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the knowledge in his head.

The memories felt closer in the night. But there was safety there, too. A feeling like they were the last two people on earth, an island of concrete in the night. Each touch was amplified by the leftover energy of the court, the cooled air, the privacy the darkness brought.

But the mornings…those were sweetest. When the light crept over campus in the east and the few students coming and going through the night had all but disappeared, Neil no longer felt they were an island, but no longer felt the loss of it, either. As the buildings of campus took shape and the orange walls of court were gentled in the light, Neil felt deeply settled. Deeply himself. I am here, his body seemed to say, I exist. Surrounded by the people he’d chosen, the place he’d claimed as his own, the dawn was an affirmation. Another night lived through, another day won as Neil Josten.

He wasn’t sure if Andrew felt it too, but he knew the man was aware of his reaction to the day. Would turn his stare on him as the sun began to rise, as if cataloging every reaction, every emotion that passed through his eyes. And when the last traces of night had left the sky, Andrew would turn wordlessly to the door and lead him back to their room, the touch of a hand on his wrist or the warmth of him against Neil’s back guiding him to sleep.

This morning was the same, Andrews fingers curling familiarly in Neil’s hair, tugging him close enough to nudge his nose against Neil’s, press their lips together, just once. He pulled back and slipped his hand down, fingers hooking on Neil’s frayed collar. Still quiet, but assessing. Confirming, Neil thought, that he was still real, still solid, not some trick of the light.

Satisfied with what he saw, Andrew pushed himself off the ground and, like so many mornings before, led them back to bed.

…

After that morning with the bluebird, Andrew began pointing out others. Not all the time, not in front of the others. But when they were alone and still. No questions asked or answered, just existing quietly, together. There was the thrumming, hollow call of a mourning dove, nesting outside their window. The wren in the rafters of court, too joyful by half for the normal Fox crowd. Even an absurdly crowned little gray thing that had perched outside Andrew’s favorite ice cream shop, a call so unremarkable Neil was skeptical it wasn’t some cleverly disguised camera. A tufted titmouse, Andrew had called it, which did nothing to help its case.

...

“So, are you going to tell me what the bird thing is about?” Neil asked finally, feet up on the dashboard in the Maserati as they headed towards Columbia.

The semester officially over, the Foxes were summarily kicked out of the dorms. The seniors had already said their farewells and headed home, with promises to reunite sometime in the summer. Kevin had elected to stay with Wymack for the first month, then a week or two in Houston with Thea before joining the rest of the Monsters.

Aaron and Nicky had nodded off minutes into the early-morning car journey, the twin leaned against the window with Nicky sprawled half in his lap. Andrew drove with his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel a touch tighter than they needed to. Neil knew what it cost him, agreeing to let Kevin stay with Wymack. Even if their deal was, officially, fulfilled, Kevin was still his, just as surely as the idiots dozing in the back and twice as crisis prone.

But Neil also knew that this was something that Kevin had to do—understood what it meant to need for the one parent you had left, even if Andrew couldn't. But he’d agreed in the end, and that was the important thing.

But agreeing to something in theory and actually leaving him behind were two different matters entirely, and Neil watched as the tension built in Andrew through the night and into the morning, bruised circles blooming underneath his eyes. He’d scoffed when Neil had offered to drive, ripping the keys out of his hand, but he didn’t take it personally. This was something Andrew either could or couldn’t handle, and they'd know the answer soon enough.

But distraction was always on the table, and Neil was bored.

...

Neil knew Andrew had heard him from the slight shift in the set of his shoulders, but the silence stretched out.

“Of which ‘bird thing’ do you speak?” Andrew said, finally. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You know, the thing you do. With the birds.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow.

“You are intentionally being difficult, ‘drew.”

The eyebrow maintained its silence.

Neil rolled his eyes. “How you appear to be on friendly terms with every bird in the greater Palmetto area. Enough to be able to recognize them by call.”

“We didn’t all grow up outside of the public school system, Nealan. Perhaps this is a ‘you’ problem.”

Neil snorted. “Here’s the thing, I tested it out with Nicky the other day. Played him some bird call videos on Youtube. He thought every one was an eagle.” He frowned a little. “I don’t even think eagles sing.”

“That proves nothing. Nicky is an idiot.”

It was Neil’s turn to stare in silence.

Andrew half-turned, considering. “What will you give me for it?”

Neil scoffed. “What’s so secret about birds? Mob ties? Trained assassins? No wait--the birds work for the bourgeoisie." He wheedled at the blonde. "C’mon ‘drew, this is hardly a trade-worthy secret.”

Andrew shrugged. “That depends entirely on your trade.”

Neil sat up straighter in his seat, letting his feet drop to the floor. They didn’t trade secrets often anymore, the things that needed to be shared long unveiled. But they made a game of it, sometimes. Partly for the familiarity of it, more for the endless competitive desire to win the better deal.

“One week of dish duty, and a pint of that sorbet you like from the store. The expensive ones, in the little clear jars.”

Andrew tilted his head, weighing the offer.

“One month and four pints.”

“In your dreams, Minyard. Two weeks and two pints.”

Andrew tipped his hand back and forth in the air, and Neil sighed.

“AND I’ll let you pick the next documentary we watch.”

“Sold.” Andrew smiled then, in his own way. Just a hint of a thing at the corners of his mouth, like laughing aloud on anyone else.

“The answer to your question, young Josten, is that I’ve spend a lot of time near windows.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon.”

“Windows, Neil. The tempered glass walls you’re currently surrounded by?”

“I’m familiar with them, yes.”

“Ah, but you aren’t familiar with the windows I am. Say, for instance, those within juvenile detention centers in forested coastal climates. Northern California, for example.”

“Sounds cushy.”

“Wilderness is very good for troubled youth, Neil. All the best books say so.”

“And was it good for you?”

“Not in the slightest. But watching what happened out there was marginally more diverting than what was happening inside. Thus, the birds.”

Neil snorted, but caught how Andrew’s hands had relaxed minutely on the wheel, the slightest drop in tension that confirmed his hunch. Kevin would be fine, but now he knew Andrew would be, too.

“And the songs?”

“Thin walls. A liability for a toddler prison, you’d think.”

Neil cocked his head; a habit Allison had cooed over last time he’d seen her. “That doesn’t explain how you know their names, though.”

“Ah, that would be the sublime funding of the California carceral system. The library was donated by the estate of one Walter Munchausen. Infamous recluse, big into taxidermy, avid birder.”

“Surprised you didn’t go for the taxidermy.”

Andrew turned a level gaze on him. “Who says I didn’t?”

“Is that where you learned about the sparrows and the bluebirds?”

“Correct. Also the birds and the bees. Different book, though.”

Neil huffed out a laugh. “How many of their songs do you remember?”

Andrew was silent for a moment. “Enough. I was there for a long time.”

Neil considered this. Filed it away. “Alright, ‘drew.”

He patted the dashboard near Andrew’s hand, not quite touching. “As long as you know you’re the prettiest bird of all.”

“I will push you out of this car, junkie.”

…

That summer was the kindest Neil had ever had. There was always hot coffee in the morning, and the sounds of Nicky and Aaron moving about the house, familiar enough to recognize by the tread of their feet. There was a side of the closet that was his, and clothes enough to fill it (though he hadn’t bought any of them, himself). There was exy for the afternoons and game shows at night, movie marathons watched from the floor, bracketed by Andrew’s legs.

And there was Andrew, everywhere. Throwing his feet in Neil’s lap while he read, or tossing Neil’s book away when he was tired of not being paid attention to. Staking a claim with fingers hooked in his collar when someone smiled a little too brightly at Neil at Eden’s. By his side when he fell asleep, a steady warmth when he woke.

It was Andrew’s gentle breathing, his steady heartbeat that colored the start of Neil's days. If it were a nightmare, he’d count the beats until his own pulse steadied to match. If it were a pleasant dream, all the better to wake, knowing that this life he fell into was so much more than anything he could have dreamt.

But the best parts, by far, were the afternoons. Those long, low country afternoons when the mercury stretched beyond 100, and the humidity laid like a blanket against Neil’s skin. Those afternoons where any thoughts of training fell away, and all they could do was stretch out on the back porch, limbs loose and heat-drunk in the hammock Nicky bought as a gag. Together if Andrew could stand it; Neil napping below if not. Either way, able to close their eyes with the knowledge that the other is safe, and close by; free to lose themselves in the haze, the sound of a far-off lawnmower or the lazy crunch of a passing car over gravel.

And occasionally, very occasionally, the sound of a bluebird, nestling in the pines.

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #aftg #the foxhole court #oneshot

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emmerrr · 7 years

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If you're still accepting prompts, maybe some father-son bonding with Kevin and Wymack? I've always headcanoned that Abby would be the one to make them do it, so maybe some of that?

a wymack prompt! anon, you are speaking my language :) I set this really soon after TKM so it’s very early days bonding and it’s more wymack focused (I find kevin so hard to write even though I love him so much) but I hope this is okay!

(read on ao3)

Following their championship final victory against the Ravens and the shock of Riko’s ‘suicide’, David would have really preferred all of his Foxes to stay close, stay together, where he can keep an eye on them all. As it happens, during the month off before summer practices start again, his rag-tag team are even more scattered than they’d usually be this time of year.

The upperclassmen have all returned home with the exception of Allison who has gone with Renee, and even Andrew’s lot have separated. Nicky’s in Germany visiting Erik, and although Aaron, Andrew, Kevin and Neil have all been staying at Abby’s for easy access to the court, Aaron is spending the last two weeks with Katelyn and her family.

David knows that Andrew at least would have preferred to have spent his summer vacation at the cousins’ house in Columbia, but Kevin has understandably had trouble coming to terms with everything that has happened, and Andrew has always actually been very supportive if you know what to look for, and David does.

So they stayed on campus, near the court for Kevin. Neil’s easy to do whatever Andrew does, and it’s not like having extra Exy time would be a problem for him; he and Kevin are of the same mind in that regard.

Even Andrew has his limits, however, and so for the last few days of their precious time off, he and Neil head back to Columbia alone to have some time to themselves. It leaves Kevin without Andrew for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s not under Andrew’s protection anymore — he doesn’t need to be — but old habits die hard, and David finds himself wondering how well Kevin’s coping.

David spends most of Friday morning at the tail-end of summer break working from home in his apartment, sorting out arrangements for the new recruits to arrive; who’s going to pick them up from the airport, room assignments and so on. When he’s finished, he hops in his car and heads over to Abby’s, picking up coffee and donuts on the way.

“It’s only me,” he calls as he enters Abby’s house without knocking.

“In here!” comes Abby’s reply, and David follows her voice to the kitchen. Abby is washing the dishes and so her back is to him, but she turns when she hears him put his offerings on the table. She eyes the coffee and smiles. “You’re a life-saver.”

“I try.” David pulls out a chair and helps himself to a donut. “Where’s Kevin? I got one for him, too.”

Abby dries her hands and sits down opposite. “I dropped him off at the stadium about an hour ago.”

David frowns. “He’s practicing alone?” At Abby’s nod, he sighs. “Everyone else is taking a break, he should too. It’s only a couple days until everyone’s back anyway.”

Abby’s look is knowing. “I think he’s just trying to keep busy. It’s too quiet around here with everyone gone.”

“He could have gone with Andrew and Neil. I know Neil invited him.”

Abby arches an eyebrow. “Would you want to play third-wheel?”

It’s a fair point. No one really talks much about Andrew and Neil’s relationship because it’s not worth the aggravation of getting either no response, or of incurring Andrew’s ire. But a relationship it definitely is, so David can understand Kevin not wanting to intrude.

“Maybe you should go down there,” Abby says. “Keep him company for a little while.”

David takes a long sip of his coffee without breaking eye-contact with Abby. She acts casual, but David knows what she’s getting at. “I’m sure he doesn’t want me getting in the way,” he says.

“David,” Abby says gently, then seems to struggle to figure out what she wants to say next. “It’s just — have you spent any time with Kevin alone at all since finding out he was your son?”

“Hey, I took him to get his tattoo covered,” he says defensively, because the whole, hey by the way, Coach, you’re my dad reveal is a touchy subject; it’s still a little raw and Abby knows that.

“Yes,” she allows, “and then you let him get blind drunk the night before a championship final.”

David scowls. “We won, didn’t we?” Kevin had plenty of time to sleep it off on the bus and David had known that which was why he’d let it happen, but still, he supposes Abby has a point.

Abby graciously ignores his comment and bulls on in that gentle way of hers, a thousand times more effective than her getting angry would be. “You’re his father, David. You should get to know him outside of Exy.”

David sighs. Kevin’s words before the final — my father comes to all of my games — are still circulating in David’s head. He knows how to be Kevin’s coach, he just doesn’t know how to be his father. He was never given the opportunity to learn.

He can’t make up for time lost, but he has time now.

He downs the rest of his coffee and picks his keys up off the table. He points at Abby on his way out the door. “You’re a fucking menace, by the way,” he says, but there’s no malice in it. Abby just smiles and shrugs innocently.

Inside the stadium, David can hear balls ricocheting off the court walls before he gets close, and when he opens the doors to the outer ring, Kevin looks to be doing accuracy drills. There’s a bucket of balls in the middle of the court, and Kevin is studiously picking them out one by one and trying to rebound shots to the same spot over and over again.

David watches for a couple of minutes. Kevin hasn’t noticed his presence yet, his singular focus evident in his narrowed eyes, his posture. His dedication and drive to always better himself are enviable traits, and David is struck once again by how proud he is of Kevin. He’s come so far.

David turns and heads to the changing rooms, pulling on some spare practice gear and grabbing a helmet and stick. Abby had said to get to know Kevin outside of Exy, but Exy is something they have in common, and it’s the perfect place to start.

Kevin whirls around in surprise when David knocks loudly on the court walls to announce his entry, and almost drops his racquet when he takes in David all kitted out.

“Coach? What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you someone to play against,” David replies. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Kevin hesitates, then a small smile flickers on his face. “Not much of an opponent, are you,” he says, not a question.

He’s right, really. David doesn’t move like he used to, especially after his old hip injury, but even in his younger days he never quite had the skill that Kevin does. But that’s not really the purpose here. “It’s always useful to have someone trying to block you,” David reasons gruffly. “And don’t be so fuckin’ rude.”

For a couple of seconds David thinks Kevin might dismiss the exercise entirely as a waste of his time, but he tilts his head to the side, considering, and then he nods. Maybe he knows that running Exy drills isn’t David’s only agenda, maybe he just realises that playing against a person is better than playing against yourself. Or maybe he’s just lonely and appreciates the company.

Whatever the reason, David will take it.

Together they pick up the stray Exy balls that are scattered across the half court until there’s just one left. David moves the bucket down the opposite end of the court out of their way.

They face off at the half-court line, Kevin with the ball and David acting as a backliner. The game is simple: Kevin tries to score, David tries to stop him.

The first few times are child’s play for Kevin; David’s nowhere near warmed up enough, not to mention he hasn’t been on the court in a playing capacity for more years than he’s comfortable remembering. He half expects Kevin to get frustrated at not being pushed hard enough, but it doesn’t happen, and David soon finds his stride.

After Kevin gets past him for the eighth time, David steps back, makes an impossible twist and intercepts, cracking Kevin’s racquet with his own and catching the ball as it pops out of Kevin’s net. Behind his helmet, Kevin looks surprised and then impressed, clearly recognising the move, and David allows himself a small smile.

Kevin’s not the only one who was taught to play by Kayleigh Day.

They play for another intensive twenty minutes and David only manages to block Kevin a grand total of three times out of countless attempts, but Kevin doesn’t scoff, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t insult David by taking it easy on him or complain about the fact he doesn’t offer much of a challenge.

By the time David calls time, his hip is twinging from over-exertion — Abby’ll be mad — and he’s a panting mess. He lowers himself to the floor, leaning up against the court walls, removing his helmet and tossing it to the side.

Kevin takes off his own helmet, then jogs across court with the Exy ball and puts it back in the bucket. Then he jogs back over to David, barely looking out of breath.

David feels embarrassingly unfit.

But Kevin’s smiling slightly when he sits down at David’s side. “Good game, old man,” he says wryly.

David side-eyes him. “Back in my day, I’d kick your ass, kid.”

Kevin snorts. “Sure you would.”

They settle into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, and it gives David a chance to get his breath back. When he has, he says, “You’re looking good out there.”

Kevin shrugs. “My accuracy is still a little off.” He holds his left hand up between them, the scars prominent, and he narrows his eyes at them, expression pinched. “It’s just not quite there yet.”

“It will be,” David says with utter belief. “It’s already so much better than it was. Just don’t push it too hard. You can play with both hands now, and that’s an important weapon.”

Kevin nods. “Yeah. I know.” He sighs. “It’s just frustrating.”

They’re still talking about Exy, but it’s different somehow. It’s not within the context of an official practice, and although they’ve talked about Kevin’s hand before, they haven’t since David found out he was Kevin’s father. And it does make a difference. David cares about all his Foxes, all his kids, but there is a difference. Kevin’s his kid.

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” David asks.

“I was gonna call Abby and get her to pick me up. Read a book or something, I dunno.” He shrugs again, then looks at David. “Since you’re here, you can give me a ride instead though, right?”

“No problem.” He checks the time and reasons by the time they’re cleaned up and on their way, it’ll be a good time to eat. “If you want, or you’ve got nothing better to do, we could grab some lunch?”

Kevin pauses, starts picking at a thread on his jersey. “Just you and me?”

“And Abby, if she wants to come. We don’t have to,” David’s quick to reassure. Baby steps. No hard feelings. “It’s just a thought.”

“No,” Kevin says quickly, glancing at David and then away again. “No, that sounds good. We… we should see if Abby wants to come, though.”

Kevin gets to his feet and holds out his hand for David, a twinkling in his eye that reminds David painfully of Kayleigh. “C’mon, Coach, I’ve got you,” he says, all mirth.

David takes his hand and allows himself to be pulled up but he glowers at Kevin. “Just because we haven’t technically started the season yet, doesn’t mean I won’t sign you up for every fucking marathon I can for the next two years.”

Kevin grins. “You’re all talk. I know you, Coach.”

David smiles back. It’s a good start.

#the foxhole court #tfc #tfc fic #david wymack #kevin day #tumblr prompts

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side-effect-of-the-meds · 4 years

Note

/firstly thank you for mandreil content it's precious/ So Matt strike me more as a dog person, how's he doing with Andrew's and Neil's cats?

AAAA! Thank you! Of course, my Mandreil content would be nothing without you guys. I seriously thought this would flop and I'd just be sitting around screaming into the void but no! You guys have been so great. It's so validating to know I'm not the only one who sees their potential and I love getting asks bc they give me so many new ideas and help me flesh their relationship out. Thank you all so much for supporting me :')

And now my kinda long answer to this prompt!

"Why do you even need this? Your apartment is a mess anyway." Matt grunted, struggling with his half of the file cabinet. When no answer came, Matt assumed Wymack was having his own fair share of trouble. Would it have been wiser to empty the cabinet out before they'd brought it up seven flights of stairs? Yes but that meant making several trips back and forth to lug the contents up and neither of them were willing to do that. It has also taken climbing three flights of stairs before the thought had even occurred to them and neither was ready to admit it.

"Useless fucking elevator," Wymack gasped between breaths. To be fair, it was the first time in a long time that the elevator had been out. For the most part, the staff kept a good eye on things. They had contingency plans for almost every imaginable situation. Almost. It wasn't really their fault that they hadn't anticipated a kid setting several parrots loose in the shaft. From down the hall, Matt could hear the distressed cries of the poor birds. He hoped Animal Control would get them out soon.

Making it up the final flight, they dropped the cabinet to catch their breaths. Matt’s fingers had gone numb from the pain of being wrapped around the sharp metal edges. If he was in such bad shape right now, then how was Wymack holding up? Casting a glance at him, Matt saw the sweat that had beaded up along his brow. His dark skin was flushed red from exertion too.

“Almost there, Coach. We can do it.” Wymack grunted noncommittally but got to his feet. “Three, two, up!” They hefted the cabinet up and shuffled their way along the corridor towards Wymack’s apartment. A sliver of light escaped the already open door. Quiet voices drifted out from within.

“Looks like your monsters are here. Little fucker better not have taken my good whiskey,” Wymack grumbled. Just the thought of Andrew and Neil waiting for him was enough to give Matt the strength to make it through the end. Shoving the door wide open, they brought the cabinet into the apartment. As soon as they’d dropped it, Matt turned his attention to the boys curled up on the couch. There was a lump beneath Andrew’s shirt.

“What is that?” he asked. The two of them shared a look as Neil brought a hand to rest on Andrew’s stomach.

“Our baby?” Neil offered, sheepishly.

For a solid thirty seconds, Matt believed him. He wasn’t ready to be a father! Of course, that decision wasn’t his to make. If Andrew wanted to keep the child then that was entirely his prerogative and Matt would support him no matter what. Only a few weeks ago, Matt had signed with the Virginia Black Bears. There was no way he could ask Andrew to move to Virginia with him. Was it too late to beg the South Carolina Blue Jays for a place on their team?

“Cut the crap, Minyard. I know there’s a dick in your pants and I’m not just referring to Boyd and Josten’s,” Wymack snapped. “There’s no way in Hell you’re pregnant.”

“Who said I was?” he countered easily. “That doesn’t mean I’m not having a baby.” Right at that moment, the lump moved. Matt screamed when he saw the little pink nose poking out from the hem of Andrew’s shirt. Andrew finally moved then, pulling out the scrawniest little kitten Matt had ever seen.

“Andy, what the fuck?” Matt whispered, crossing the room. He knelt down in front of them and watched as the tiny thing clawed their way down Andrew’s thighs and into Neil’s lap.

“We found her outside,” Neil said, smiling down at her. “She’s too little to be all by herself. Can we keep her, Matty?” The eager look on his face was too much for him to take.

“Okay.” Neil caught Matt by the collar of his shirt and kissed him hard. It wasn’t a very good kiss seeing as Neil was smiling too hard but Matt didn’t really mind. Turning to look at Andrew, Matt saw the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“If you get caught, I’m not defending any of you,” Wymack told them tersely as they stood. “Now get out.”

“What about the cabinet?”

“Go take care of your kid,” Wymack said, ushering the lot of them towards the door. Matt smiled wide at that. He followed Neil and Andrew down the stairs and out to the Maserati.

“Does she have a name yet?” Matt asked, settling into the back seat.

“Queenie,” Andrew said, taking the tiny kitten from Neil’s arms. He set her in Matt’s lap before shutting the door.

“Wait, you want me to hold her?”

“She’s your daughter too,” Neil said from the front seat. “Relax, Matt. You’re going to be a great dad.” Matt really hoped so.

He’s an amazing dad!.

Queenie is too young to be without a mom so the three of them have to take turns bottle-feeding their her and end up recruiting the help of the rest of the Monsters so that she doesn’t have to be by herself for more than an hour

They take her to the vet only to find out that she’s a boy. The name sticks anyway

Queenie is an absolute piece of shit. He will look you in the eye as he knocks things off the counter bc fuck you

When he does both Neil and Matt will yell at Andrew for being a bad influence on their son.

Andrew will knock things off the counter in retaliation for their scoldings

Everyone on their floor knows about Queenie and adore him. People will swing by with treats and toys for the baby boi. He’s such a spoiled little shit.

Matt graduates a little over a month after Queenie becomes a part of their lives. He has another month before he has to start playing for his new team so he spends summer in Columbia with the boys and their son.

Andrew and Neil make Matt take Queenie when he moves.

They call Matt every few days and video chat with their son once a week.

Now that Matt lives in Richmond, he’s incredibly lonely. He’s like 6 hours away from Andrew and Neil and 12 hours from Dan. Having Queenie makes him feel a lot better.

When Dan finally moves in, Matt does end up getting dogs and he does not play favorites

That was a lie

Matt plays favorites all the time

Queenie is his favorite and he always will be

When Andrew and Neil get King and Sir, Matt feels a bit betrayed now that they have kids without him. It doesn’t last long tho. He and Dan have dogs which are technically kids he had without Andy and Neil.

Every time he goes to visit the boys, Matt brings Queenie along too.

When Andrew and Neil come to visit, they bring Sir and King to meet the dogs. They all get along surprisingly well.

#just a thought #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #tfc #andrew minyard #andrew joseph minyard #neil josten #matt boyd #mandreil #dan wilds #reveal to me your deepest desires

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