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It was beginning to look like one of those days. They didn't come around very often anymore, but sometimes Andrew just got a bit of an itch under his skin that couldn't quite be scratched.
Although they did vary in level of ugliness. It could be a flicker of annoyance that'd follow him around, other times an uncontrollable flood of flashbacks that'd make his chest and head ache until he couldn't breathe. Sometimes he needed to just drive for a few hours in an attempt to drown out the destructive thoughts.
Sometimes he would find himself sitting by the window for hours and hours on end, body not wanting or willing to move.
Today it started with a nightmare like it did most times. Lately all of these nightmares involved a certain loud mouthed red head getting himself into countless life-threatening situations with Andrew himself acting as bystander, feet stuck to the ground unable to do anything but watch. It was different to the ones where his mind would replay the sickening memories from his childhood.
Andrew had little to no regard for his own wellbeing or safety but seeing Neil suffering, real or not, caused him an unexpected feeling of total distress.
Andrew's eyes shot open as he attempted to distinguish his immediate surroundings. He could feel the sweat on his pillow and body as his shirt stuck slightly to his chest, both of his hands balled into fists in the sheets either side of him. His vision focused in on the cause of his current situation.
Neil was facing away from him with with tufts of auburn hair sticking up all over the place. It had grown longer over the past few months and one of Andrew's favourite things was to run his fingers through it - though he'd die before he'd admit it.
Andrew tried to focus on the rise and fall of the other boy's breathes. A reassurance that he was still there. He was still alive. Still breathing. The blanket they shared was splayed across his waist unevenly and Andrew resisted the urge to reach out and tuck him in safely. When did he become so soft? He hated what Neil did to him. Once upon a time this kind of closeness to someone would've seemed impossible. Sharing your own personal space in your most vulnerable moments is something that used to make his skin crawl to even think about. But something about Neil's presence calmed his constantly fraying nerves. It aggravated him. He wanted to push and push at Neil until he broke but at the same time wanted him to wrap his scarred, strong body around him until he felt safe again. He wanted to hold his hand and then break it for doing this to him.
He gritted his teeth and turned his attention towards the ceiling in an attempt to clear his thoughts. It didn't work. The only sound he could hear was the repetitive thump of his own heartbeat. Andrew needed nicotine.
In the number of years they had now shared a bed together, neither of them could really be labelled as a light sleeper anymore thanks to the constant and evolving amount of trust which was constantly brewing between the two. Andrew tossed off the covers lightly and gently crawled off the end of the bed, without disturbing the other man.
He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the kitchen bench, pulled on one of Neil’s hoodies and went out onto the balcony. Much to Neil's delight, as he relished the idea of jogging up and down all the stairs every goddamn day, their apartment was situated on the sixth floor of the complex, two floors higher than anywhere he'd ever lived.
The sky outside was still dark as Andrew slid down to wall onto the concrete so his knees were pulled into his chest. This was his favourite time of day; when everything is cold and quiet, before the hustle and bustle of daily life. There was nothing like being almost 65 feet above the ground and staring up at the abyss to make you feel insignificant. It was one of the weird things that comforted Andrew. Knowing he was something so small in something so incomprehensibly vast. He remembers holding hands with Neil and pointing out the various constellations once on the roof of the fox tower. Back then they didn't do things like that often at all but to see the unfairly soft expression on Neil's face made something painfully warm inside him. That'd been almost 6 years ago now.
He was almost through his third cigarette before he heard the sliding door open and someone step out onto the balcony.
"Hey" Neil yawned, stepping over to sit next to Andrew, but still keeping his distance. Andrew's gaze flicked over to him briefly in reply. He was wearing a pair of grey track pants and one of Andrew's Led Zepplin t-shirts.
"Bad dreams?" Neil asked.
Andrew only hummed in response. It'd been been a very long time since Andrew had claimed that "this" was nothing. They'd been together for a long time now but that definitely didn't stop his mind drifting and wondering if he really deserved to be apart of something this extraordinary. When Andrew first met Neil he could hardly stand to be in the same room with him. He was a liar and a runner. Andrew had no reason to display any sort of interest in the boy. But something about him got through enough to affect him even back then with the drugs. Sometimes Andrew felt such an overwhelming sense of affection for Neil he had to physically calm himself down.
"What can I do?”
Andrew stubbed out his cigarette and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I don’t know.”
Neil looked at him without pity but with understanding. Sometimes this got under his skin but right then up in their apartment, with the sun barely even visible, sitting right next to his anchor, Andrew felt uncharacteristically calm. He took the opportunity to rest his head on his crossed arms and look back at Neil.
Usually one of them would call the other out for staring at this point, but sometimes they’d share a look which transcended whatever they could communicate with words.
Neil scooted closer to him so their legs were only an inch or so apart. “Is this okay?”
Andrew nodded and sat up so they were pressed together from shoulder to ankle. His body was still warm from bed which seeped into Andrew’s side and started to work out some of the tension he didn’t even realise was there.
“Andrew” Neil hesitated. Andrew turned to look at him.
“You’re always there when I need you and I want you to understand that you can always lean on me you know.” He said after a moment.
Andrew closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wall momentarily. He knew that Neil meant this figuratively as well as literally but he decided on the latter in that moment. Instead of brushing off the comment he moved impossibly closer to Neil and leaned his head on his shoulder. At this proximity, Andrew could smell the coconut body wash Neil always insisted on using. It all felt a bit too cliche, but he smelt like familiarity; like home.
Neither of these boys could be classed as ‘soft’, and moments like this didn’t happen too regularly, but up on the balcony where Neil linked their fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of Andrew's hand, he didn’t really care.