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I
It had been years since Andrew needed a monster to protect him at night.
Really, after Drake was rendered insane through whatever nightmarish talents Neil possesses, he was safe. Sure, Cass let him go back into the system - a blow his cracked and creaking heart didn't need - but Neil had ensured he was untouchable.
At juvie, Neil's invisible presence kept most people out of Andrew's space, subconsciously recognising the presence of something dark and cruel and dangerous.
When they discovered Aaron, Neil easily sorted the situation with Tilda - breathing horrors into her ears until she was committed to a clinic too. She would never recover, reduced to nothing but gibberish fear, and though Aaron knew something was strange about his brother, there was no sense that her breakdown was anything other than the result of too many drugs combined with the weight of long-held maternal guilt.
Even once the twins looked likely to go to the Hemmicks, Neil worked his magic. He hissed about not trusting Luther and Andrew listened as he always did. So they landed with Nicky instead.
And things were... pretty good.
During the day, Neil was a shadow that broiled and stirred in the corner of his eye, watching over him.
On evenings out, Neil kept an eye out on all of them - protecting Nicky, keeping Aaron away from temptation, letting Andrew take a step back and actually relax knowing that his family was under watch.
And at night, Andrew still held Neil's clawed fingers, tracing the scarred and mottled arm with his thumbs, curling their pinkies together in the shadows before falling asleep.
He knew he was safe with his monster under the bed.
Neil kept him safe from everything, as he always had.
II
Andrew grew up. They both did.
Neil was more and more powerful, more and more real.
Andrew graduated from school, went to college, played exy.
But a niggling feeling ached in his chest - the knowledge that he didn't need Neil anymore. He wanted him.
Stupid stickballs stupid fault, Andrew thought as he dressed. His little band of Foxes were headed to Eden's Twilight, their old haunt in Columbia, and Kevin was joining them for the first time. Andrew knew he ought to be suitably distracted - but Neil was playing on his mind. Hell, he was on Andrew's mind with every breath and every heartbeat.
Because it turned out Neil enjoyed exy - loved it even. And whilst Andrew had always known that his demon was always lurking - simmering in the shadows just out of sight, ready to tear apart anyone who threatened him - since starting Palmetto, the monster had stopped hiding. He'd stepped out beneath stadium lights... and Andrew's one-time shattered heart had groaned with the sight.
Neil was all red hair and hellfire smile, with a mouth full of sharp teeth, and eyes that glinted like a glacier ready to crack beneath trespassing feet. He was preternaturally pretty.
And Andrew couldn't fucking breath.
Back in the dorm, Andrew closed his eyes against his reflection in the mirror, tried to focus on the night ahead but felt his thoughts slipping again and again towards that first moment when he felt Neil's smile like a lance going straight between his ribs. It was a wicked, wild thing, leaving no doubt that even in a humanoid form, Neil was not a mortal creature.
This was only reiterated when Neil turned out to be demonically fast. He started to practice with Andrew, playing striker against the goalkeeper, brutally attacking and attacking and attacking.It somewhat spoiled real exy - no one was faster than Neil. No one challenged Andrew like the monster from under his bed.
But what world was this where he was in lust with a demon? Where all he wanted wanted to kiss that mouth and lick away the wickedness, to taste sharp teeth and brimstone?
He kept telling himself that this was Neil.
That this was the creature who held his hand in the dark, who devoured his nightmares so he could sleep, who followed him across states in order to protect him.
That this was his oldest friend.
That Neil was a monster.
Whatever he wanted with Neil was a fantasy - couldn't even call him a pipe dream when Neil was literally made of phantasmagorical horrors.
Snorting, Andrew opened his eyes again, eyed his black jeans and the way his shoulders looked in the black tank he'd chosen specifically for that night. He wanted to look good. He had something to prove tonight.
III
The drive to Eden's was quiet. As they headed inside - him and Aaron and Nicky and the newly acquired Kevin Day - Andrew allowed his gaze to wander, to seek. And when he found what he wanted, to linger. On Roland. The barman was good-looking enough, pointy faced with a piercing in his eyebrow and canines just a little sharper than most. He was also someone Andrew knew well from their years working side by side.
Pros: he was interested in Andrew and definitely mortal.
Cons: he had untrustworthy hands and isn't his monster.
Still Andrew offered Roland a slow, raised brow and lifted his head towards the backroom. Roland's smile held nothing to Neil's, but maybe it could be enough.
Crossing the dancefloor towards the bar, Andrew spotted the telltale shift and swirl of shadow that gave away Neil's proximity.
He hissed to the darkness, "Don't you dare fucking come into that room with me. Whatever you hear, I want it."
I want this, he told himself again as Roland closed the door behind them. He couldn't have Neil, but he could have Roland.
He could pin the man’s untrustworthy hands.
He could enjoy the sting of those sharp canines.
He could drop to his knees and take what he wanted - what he needed - before leaving, no strings.
And there was no sign of those give away shadows.
(He didn't wish Neil had ignored his request. He didn't wish Neil might see. Might react. Might retaliate against Roland in some peak of jealousy. Of course he didn't.)
IV
That night his sleep was restless - a sign Neil had been eating his dreams - and Andrew reached down for Neil’s claws, needing to feel the dark and the cold and the reality of Neil’s existence.
“Neil,” he whispered when nothing reached back. “Are you there?”
The answering silence stung.
And he wondered if his monster did peek through the door.
He wondered if Neil is angry or disgusted.
He pulled his hand back into the bed and curled himself up tight.
He didn't sleep again that night.
V
Neil was curiously absent over the next few days - there were no shadows with minds of their own, no atmosphere of peril when accompanying Andrew around campus.
Strangers looked at him curiously. Some even smiled at him.
Andrew didn't like it.
Neil going away had only happened a few times since he was small - usually in those handfuls of weeks when he was shuffled from foster home to foster home, and Neil had to play catch up. It hasn't ever happened like this before - where Neil just vanished without explanation or goodbye.
"Where are you?" Andrew said into the night.
There was no reply. Again.
In bed, Andrew felt alone.
On the court, Andrew felt bored.
In class, Andrew tried not to miss the sarcastic spectre that usually hissed in his ear.
He tried and failed.
VI
Andrew went to Eden's again, dragging along the Monsters and daring Neil to turn up as he walked in the door.
He was angry in a way he had never been before. Hot with fury. Edges charred with rage.
Because he knew Neil was close by, feeding off his nightmares but not showing his face.
Stupid goddamn demon idiot.
The lights were bright, the dancefloor writhing. Across the room, Roland caught his eye. He wore the lazy smile of someone who already knew he had a captive audience, arrogant and so fucking sexy.
If Andrew never met Neil, perhaps he would have been satisfied with someone like Roland - someone who he could force to play by his rules, easy and uncomplicated.
But he had met Neil.
Met him and held his hand and been tucked into bed by a creature that everyone else called a monster.
Met him and trusted him and played exy with him and fallen so hard, despite the fact that demons probably didn't even have the concept of sexuality.
Nicky and Kevin were drunk before Andrew blinked.
Aaron was high on crackers, smiling stupidly into the throng of dancers.
Andrew downed another shot, emptied a packet of dust into his mouth and felt the prickle and burr of euphoria in his blood.
Roland, he thought, standing and swaying, steadying himself on the back of the chair. Then: Neil?
Because amongst the crowd danced a lithe a familiar body. All sinuous muscle and skin that glowed beneath flashing lights, red hair that caught fire when the beat dropped and the strobes flared. Hell must have frozen over in those eyes, because they captured Andrew's and chilled his blood. Yet, there it was: that wicked, wicked mouth with its wicked, wicked smile.
Andrew moved when Neil did.
Crossed the dancefloor.
Knotted his fingers in the dark mesh of Neil's shirt.
Forced Neil backwards.
Pressed him against the wall in the dark, away from the lights, away from these strangers who were too close to his monster.
His. Monster.
"Where the fuck were you?" Andrew said.
Neil's mouth was so close.
Neil cocked his head as if confused but there was mischief in his eyes, a heat only seen before on the court.
Andrew's fists tightened, he pressed his body in tight, one leg sliding between Neil's, mouth a snarl. "Where. Were. You?"
"Were you worried?" Neil asked. "I came home at night. I've been around."
Home. Andrew's snarl widened. "I needed you."
"No, you didn't," Neil said and his voice was rough, a rasp, almost sad. "You never need me."
"I always need you," Andrew said.
It was true and Neil knew it because Andrew never lied. Andrew needed him like he needed water and oxygen. Like he needed sunrises and the surety of death at the end of all this.
"You're mine you fucking idiot," Andrew said.
"Yes." But Neil's gaze slid to the bar.
Roland was staring across at them - clearly amused - and Andrew rolled his eyes. “You’re angry at Roland.”
“I wanted to eat him.”
“You’re jealous.” (Wasn’t this what Andrew wanted? So why was this so frustrating?) “You moron.”
“Steal his thoughts. Devour his soul.”
“Would you?”
“Not unless you asked. Are you asking?” Neil actually sounded hopeful and Andrew scowled but his heart was going a thousand beats per minute. It was going to crack his ribs.
“No,” he said. “Leave him alone. He’s not important.”
Neil pouted.
And Andrew had no more restraint.
He kissed Neil. And it was terrible - it was rough and their teeth crashed and it was clear Neil had no idea what he was doing. Andrew pulled back and he saw light reflected in Neil’s eyes and Neil looked equal parts hungry and stunned.
“Do that again,” said the monster. Andrew complied.
The second time was still bruising, Neil’s fingers curling around Andrew’s wrists and lingering there. It ought to be a problem but it wasn't - because these were the hands that held his in the dark, that kept him safe, protected him.
And Neil was kissing back - awkward and lovely.
He tasted of smoke and brimstone. His teeth were too sharp and nicked at Andrew’s tongue.
The kiss was what Andrew’s dreams were made of - the ones Neil left behind, the hazy and beautiful and too fucking much ones.
They drew apart but not by much, Neil’s forehead was warm against Andrew’s. Noses bumped. Breathing tangled.
“So we don’t have to go in a store cupboard?”
“Why would we go in a store cupboard?”
“You did with him. I thought...”
“Stop thinking about him. I’m not.”
Neil kissed the words right out from between Andrew’s teeth.
Andrew realised then that Neil is teasing - that they’ve come a long long way since Neil was a confused little monster, hiding from the king of hell by crawling under Andrew’s bed.
Nicky was staring when they come back to the table - glaze-eyed and mouth agape.
Andrew wondered if he’ll have to explain this to his cousin - that he had a semi-domesticated monster and it had been living with them for years.
But Neil shook his head and there was a curl of dark humour.
“Play nice,” Andrew said.
“Only for you,” replied Neil.