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If Neil says "hee haw" one more time, Andrew is going to break up with him.
He knows he shouldn't have let the upperclassmen wrangle Neil into a Christmas movie marathon. He knows it was doomed to cause him pain. But he never expected the pain to come in this way.
Apparently there is a movie. An animated movie called Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey. Andrew has never heard of it, but the upperclassmen sure have, and they must care about it an awful lot if they're willing to sacrifice Andrew's sanity just to have Neil watch it.
Because apparently there is a song in the movie that would make any self-respecting person rip their own hair out if they heard it too many times.
But not Neil
Oh no, not Neil at all.
This obtuse red-headed moron has decided that what he should do, is sing the fucking song constantly. Although, Andrew has to give Neil the benefit of the doubt because he doesn't seem to know what he's doing. He'll hum the melody under his breath or mumble the words quietly. He only does it when he's not focusing on anything, and it probably wouldn't be that obnoxious if the song didn't have the most asanine lyrics Andrew has ever heard. And Neil will sing it All. The. Time.
Riding shotgun in the Maserati...
"Hey, chingedy ching, hee have, hee haw
It's Dominick the Donkey"
Taking a shower in the stall next to Andrew's...
"Chingedy Ching, hee haw, hee haw
The Italian Christmas Donkey"
Stretching on the court before warm-ups...
"La la la, la la la la la la la"
Even playing with Andrew's hair when they're laying together in bed...
"La la la, la la la la-di-o-da"
Either the song doesn't have any verses, or Neil doesn't know them because those are the only lines he ever sings. It always comes it out in this really breathy quality that Andrew is loathe to admit reminds him of Neil spread out on the bed, speaking in hushed tones, flushed and tired after...well. Anyway, he really does think it could be cute if the lyrics weren't so damn ridiculous. Why is the donkey Italian?
But Neil actually enjoys watching Christmas movies with Boyd's loud commentary, and Dan's raccous laughter, and Reynolds's shrill remarks, and even Renee's sweet smiles. Doing dumb shit that other young people do is something that Neil secretly likes. He's never said it outright, but Andrew can tell. For his entire life, Neil has had nothing but escape plans and exit strategies clogging his head. Now he has the time and brain capacity to think about more normal things, and he should embrace that if he wants to.
So no, Andrew won't take this away from him. Even if it means listening to the first half of a dumbass song on a constant loop. Even if it means keeping his thoughts to himself.
And Kevin can just fuck right off with his complaints. He doesn't have to hear the song nearly as often as Andrew does.
~~~~~
Andrew can tell something is up as soon as he walks into the kitchen. Neil is already awake and making breakfast, but that's nothing out of the ordinary. It's the way he keeps rocking on his feet that alerts Andrew to his anxiousness. When Neil is keyed up with no outlet to expel his nervous energy, he'll shift his weight from his toes to his heels and back again, over and over and over. It's not that noticeable, but after a year of learning all of Neil's mannerisms, Andrew has become sort of the reigning expert of noticing everything that Neil does.
But he doesn't ask Neil what's wrong. Far too many nightmares and bad days have taught them both that sometimes asking just makes it worse. Feeling obliged to share what's bothering you—what's eating you alive from the inside, what's clawing at your lungs and scraping out your bones—can feel too overwhelming at times. Like you're exposed. So now, they don't ask. Andrew knows that if Neil wants to talk about something, he will when he's ready.
They eat their cereal in silence before Kevin emerges from the shower and starts chattering away with Neil. Andrew mostly ignores them, focusing instead on the wrinkle that forms between Neil's brows whenever he disagrees with Kevin.
After meeting Aaron and Nicky in the hallway, the five of them make their way downstairs, ready to head to morning practice. But as they near the Maserati at the far end of the parking lot, Andrew stops dead in his tracks. He stares at his car, his precious fucking car, and can't quite comprehend what he's seeing.
There are two large, fake antlers stuck just above the front windows, one on each side.
He only snaps out of his shocked stupor when Nicky starts cackling from somewhere behind him. Even Aaron lets out an audible snort at the senseless vanadlism that the Maserati has clearly suffered. Andrew feels the anger start bubble up inside of him. Although "anger" might not be the correct name for it. More like outrage. He shouldn't care, doesn't care, but this is his property. This is something that matters to him. This is his car. His car that nobody else is even allowed to drive except—
Oh.
When Andrew cuts his gaze to Neil, he feels all the tension fly out of his body. Because Neil's smile is unbearably smug, and his eyes are full of mischief. Goddamit Neil.
Andrew stalks right up to him until they're so close that Neil has to go cross-eyed to look at him.
"What do you think?" Neil asks, and Andrew could throttle him.
"I think you should reconsider your actions," Andrew tells him.
Now Kevin laughs, and Andrew turns around to jab a finger at their little trio.
"Get in the car." Short. Commanding. No room for negotiation. And the three idiots scramble into the car like good little spineless sheep.
Neil sighs loudly, and Andrew turns around to continue their stare down.
Neil's smile looks more defeated now when he says, "Look. If you really don't like the antlers, I'll just take them off. Really it's not a big deal." He's rambling now. "I just thought it would be fun. I saw a car parked over by the math building that had antlers, and I wanted to see what the Maserati would look like. I mean come on, it's so festive!" Neil's eyes light up as he gestures to the car with a grin bursting across his face. "Honestly, I didn't expect you to keep them on. I think I'll give them to Matt to put on his truck. I'm sure he'll get a kick out of—"
Andrew interrupts him. "Get in the car." Because if Neil is going to deface anybody's car with Christmas shit, it will be Andrew's.
Neil scrunches up his nose in an endearingly confused expression. "What about—"
"Get in the car, Neil."
That smile sneaks its way back onto Neil's face, and he looks almost sheepish for a moment. "So would the nose be pushing it too far?" Then Neil reaches into his exy bag and pulls out a large red ball.
Andrew looks at the ball, then looks at Neil, then looks back to the ball, then to Neil again. Ughhhhhhh.
Andrew is already turning and walking to the driver's side when he calls out, "Put it on. Then we're leaving." He slams the door once he's settled in the seat, just to really drive to point home of how much of a bother this all is. Looking through the windshield, he can see Neil bent over by the front of the car, excitedly fastening the "nose" onto the grill, and Andrew violently twists the key in the ignition to distract himself. He flips through to a Christmas station on the radio because Nicky will complain if he doesn't.
"I'm sorry," Aaron says from the backseat, in a voice that implies he is definitely not sorry, "are you really going to drive around in a six-figure car that looks like fucking Rudolph?"
Andrew ratchets the volume of the speakers up just as "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" starts playing.
How fitting.
~~~~~
This is dumb
This is so so so so so dumb and unnecessary.
Andrew does not need to be awake at 6:30 on a Saturday morning. He does not need to be standing out in the cold on the front steps of Fox Tower. He does not need to be freezing his ass off waiting for his boyfriend to come home.
But after waking alone to an empty bed and realizing Neil must have gone running when there was eight inches of snow outside, Andrew couldn't fall back asleep because he was too busy analyzing the hard, heavy feeling stuck in his gut. It took him almost fifteen minutes to properly indentify it as worry.
Andrew has never worried about anyone before. Years ago, when he discovered he had a twin, he wasn't worried about what would happen; He felt responsible for the outcome of the situation and made plans accordingly. Being sent away to Easthaven hadn't made him worried about something happening to Kevin. Instead, Andrew had merely been curious to see if Neil would keep his promise. Even when Neil was kidnapped and taken to Baltimore, he still wasn't worried. Disbelieving, frustrated, determined, outraged? Oh absolutely. But never worried.
This is different. This is an easy problem with a simple solution. Neil always finishes his morning runs by 6:45 at the latest on Saturdays so that he can shower before heading out and getting Andrew pancakes from Bob Evans. It's their usual weekend schedule, and Andrew knows it well by this point. So Andrew will wait to greet Neil when he returns to Fox Tower at 6:45, and if he doesn't, then Andrew will hop in the Maserati and drive around looking for him until he eventually finds Neil sitting on some curb with a mildly sprained ankle or frostbite. It's so utterly predictable.
And yet...
Andrew worries.
Maybe it's the lack of change. When something unexpected occurs, you might deviate from your daily routine. If you contract the flu, then you call off work, miss practice, skip class, whatever. If it snows eight inches overnight, you would probably opt to run inside on a treadmill instead of your standard outdoor route.
But since when has Neil ever made smart choices for himself?
The fact that Neil hasn't strayed from his typical agenda despite the aftermath of a late-night snowstorm is unsettling Andrew in strange ways. He can't stop thinking about Neil, imagining what he's doing, dreading what might happen to him. Quite frankly, it's ridiculous that Andrew is so unnaturally and uncharacteristically stressed about Neil of all things.
So now here he is, standing on the front steps of Fox Tower counting down the minutes until he'll feel either intense relief or frantic unease. Honestly, any feeling would be better than fucking worry. He can't sit down because there are eight fucking inchesof snow on the steps, so he settles for twirling his car keys around his finger and pacing around every few minutes whenever he loses feeling in his feet.
Finally, Neil comes into his line of sight, jogging towards Andrew from the other end of the parking lot. He slows down and starts walking over before stopping a few feet from the bottom step. He pants a little as he catches his breath and taps on the screen of the fancy fitness watch that Allison got him a couple months ago. Neil is in a virtual competition with Kevin right now, so he's been tracking all of his runs lately.
Andrew is at least glad to notice that Neil bundled up. Sort of. He's wearing leggings and tall socks, and there's a jacket tied around his waist, which he slips on now over his long-sleeved athletic shirt. There's also a wool hat pulled down over his ears. Andrew sees the orange #10 knit into the front and recognizes it as Renee's handiwork. Aside from the sneakers, Neil is actually dressed pretty similarly to Andrew, except Andrew has double the layers: t-shirt, sweater, jacket, coat. His own hat has a #3 on it.
Neil finally glances up, locking eyes with Andrew, and his face explodes into a grin that is far too big for so early in the morning.
"What are you doing out here?" Neil asks once he's fully caught his breath.
"You went running. In the snow. After I told you not to."
Neil laughs a little at that. "You told me that I shouldn't. That's different."
"You should still be in bed." In our bed. With me.
It goes unsaid, but Neil seems to pick up on it anyway when he says, "Sorry. But I'm back now so I can go get us breakfast." Neil cocks his head to the side. "Actually, you could come with me if you want. Since you're already awake."
"I shouldn't be awake," Andrew says through gritted teeth.
That finally deflates Neil's smile. "Hey, are you mad at me?"
"It's 38 degrees outside," Andrew says instead of answering. Of course he's not mad at Neil. He's mad at himself for fucking worrying.
Okay, maybe he's a tiny bit frustrated by Neil's ignorance. But that's nothing new.
"It's not that bad when you're excericising," Neil says defensively.
"How did you even run when the ground is covered in snow?"
"The roads are all plowed."
Andrew's eye actually twitches. "You ran in the street? Where a car could have slid out of control and hit you?"
Neil shakes his head and explains, "The roads are way too icy for any cars to drive on right now."
Even taking deep breaths can't mellow Andrew right now. "Tell me Neil, how does it feel to have a skull so thick it could sink the Titanic?"
"Oh calm down," Neil says as he rolls his eyes, doing a poor job at placating Andrew. "It's really not that bad out."
From his place on the top step, Andrew is probably about a foot taller than Neil, and he uses the extra height to his advantage as he crosses his arms and stares pointedly at Neil.
"Andrew," Neil tries again. "Seriously, I'm fine."
And isn't that just so fucking typical.
Before he fully realizes what he's doing, Andrew scoops up a large chunk of snow from the railing next to him and throws it at Neil. It hits him almost square in the chest, and Neil actually stumbles back in surprise. He looks from the fallen hunk of snow on the ground to Andrew, who stares right back at him.
Then Neil has the audacity to laugh.
"Is this what you're going to do from now on? Throw things at me when I say that I'm fine? I think Aaron and Kevin could get on board with that. Maybe even Allison. Matt and Renee will be hard to convince though..."
Andrew lets the thought trail off before he speaks up again. "It's a snowball fight." Then he grabs another block of snow and chucks at Neil again. This time it connects with his jaw.
"I thought they were supposed to be round?" Neil questions, rubbing his face.
"Made a lot of snowballs on the run, did you?"
He chuckles again, no doubt enjoying the unexpected direction this conversation is taking. "No, but in that elf movie we watched they have a snowball fight, and all of them are round," Neil points out.
Andrew gathers another handful of snow but keeps it in his hand. The cold will seep through his gloves eventually, but for the moment he can't feel it. He looks Neil in the eye and says, "Show me how to do it then."
"Is that a challenge?"
Still holding the handful of snow, Andrew descends the few steps separating him from Neil and stands on the ground right in front of him, close enough that he could count Neil's eyelashes if he wanted to. Maybe later.
"Yes or no, Neil?" He asks instead.
"Yes," Neil responds immediately, easily, confidently. Like he knows what Andrew is doing.
The two of them stand there staring each other down for a solid few moments, not moving or speaking or thinking or daring to look away.
Then Neil suddenly drops into a crouch, and the game is on. He starts furiously packing snow into a round shape in his hands, but it's a futile effort. Andrew lifts his right foot, places it lightly against Neil's shoulder, and gently pushes him backwards. Neil is so shocked, he doesn't even try to regain his balance, just falls gracelessly onto his back in the snow, eyes wide in surprise, dropping the snow as his arms splay out around him. Andrew follows him down, straddling Neil's hips and pinning Neil's arms down with his knees.
"Andrew!" A startled laugh is pushed out of Neil as Andrew presses his weight on top of him. "What are you—AH!"
Neil cuts himself off with a high pitched shriek as Andrew lifts his shirt and smears the cold snow right across Neil's chest.
"Oh my god!" He's spasming under Andrew's body, shivering from the shock of cold. "Oh my god it's so cold." His breathing grows heavy, and his mouth drops open in a wide "O" shape. Andrew takes advantage of the expression and lowers his face until his lips are barely an inch away from Neil's. Then he waits. Because even though he's getting better that whole "it's a yes until it's a no" thing, he still won't kiss Neil if he's genuinely uncomfortable from the snow.
But he needn't worry, because Neil immediately strains his neck to press his lips up against Andrew's. This allows Andrew to relax into the kiss until Neil's head is pressed into the snow again as Andrew's tongue licks into his mouth. Andrew threads his fingers into Neils hair, but the wool gloves just makes it all staticky until it's sticking up in complete disarray.
When they finally break apart, Neil is panting and grinning, looking at Andrew with such fondness that Andrew is tempted to shove snow down his pants to make it stop. Neil asks, "Did I really deserve that?"
"I am proving that it's too cold to be outside, dumbass." Andrew traces his hands down Neil's chest before reaching his still unzipped jacket. He pulls at the collar and flips it up to protect the back of Neil's neck from too much exposure with the snow beneath him.
"Mmm but you warm me up so nicely," Neil says and surges up to kiss Andrew again. Then he pulls back to say voice another ridiculous thought. "Wait wait," and Andrew immediately sits up straight, because he will always wait when Neil asks him to. "I thought you were going to chew me out, but..." He gets this dumb little knowing look in his eyes. "We're you worried about me?"
Andrewgrabs more snow and pushes it against Neil's cheek this time, and Neil squirms aggressively from the feeling even as he laughs high and bright. The sound rings through the air, takes root in Andrew's head, loosens something in his chest he hadn't known was contracting.
In retaliation, Neil uses his strong legs to start flipping them over until Andrew has no choice but to get off or be pushed into the snow. He swings his leg over Neil's waist so he's no longer on top of him, and Neil uses his newfound freedom to scramble off the ground and bolt towards the parking lot. But as soon as his feet hit the asphalt, he slips on a patch of ice and goes sprawling to the ground once again, landing even more ungracefully than before. Andrew feels his lips involuntarily curling upward, and a laugh bubbles out of him before he can catch it. Laughing, while happening more and more often in Neil's presence, is still a strange experience for Andrew. After being on his meds for so long, he had forgotten how to genuinely laugh at things simply because they were funny. His own laughter can still dredge up unsavory memories in the wrong circumstances, but the more he lets go, the more he can stomach the sound. This laugh sounds more like him, deep and rumbly instead of the high, strained sound that used to rip its way from his throat even in his darkest moments.
Evidently, Neil noticed his laugh, because he lifts his head and looks directly at Andrew, who must still be smiling. Neil fakes a pout, and Andrew hates how cute it is. "Are you laughing at me?"
"This is why you don't run when it's icy out," Andrew teases as he stalks towards Neil.
Neil huffs an affronted laugh and props himself up on his elbows. "Oh fuck off! I ran four miles and didn't fall once. This was just a fluke, get off your high horse."
Andrew reaches a hand out and uses it to hoist Neil off the ground. "At least I know you can't run from me."
"Maybe I wanted to get caught."
And fuck. Why does that make something in Andrew's stomach flip? How does Neil know to say these things that make Andrew feel like his heart is forming a goddamn acrobatic routine? Who allowed him to slip under Andrew's skin and make a home there?
Andrew wraps his arms around Neil's waist until they're wrapped in each other's embrace. Neil leans forward to kiss the tip of Andrew's nose, and Andrew does the same right away. But Neil's nose is fucking cold, and Andrew suddenly forgets about it all. Forgets about the fucking donkey song and the fucking reindeer antlers and the fucking disregard for unsuitable weather conditions. All he wants now, in this moment, is to eat pancakes and lick the maple syrup from Neil's lips afterwards.
"Get in the car," Andrew says, already dragging Neil by his wrist across the parking lot over to the Maserati. "We're getting breakfast."