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Neil Abram Josten retired from Exy at the age of thirty-six, and promptly disappeared without a trace. Nobody knew where he had gone, not his teammates, not his friends, and certainly not Andrew Minyard. Newspapers and magazines ran articles, and people posted fliers, but time past and nobody knew where he had gone, so the world moved on.
When Andrew Minyard was thirty eight, a year after Neil’s disappearance, he quit his job as a lawyer and turned off his phone. He only ever spoke to three people on it anymore: Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin. It turned out that breaking up with the Foxes’ sweetheart meant that they were all on his side, never mind that Andrew had not been the one to instigate it.
He had a lead that he was determined to follow and follow the lead he did. He followed it out of New York, where he had followed Neil even as he pretended that he no longer cared, out of the state, and down South, back towards the town he had called home for four years of his life. Still, he continued South, where he found an airfield.
He had worked through a great many things for Neil: trauma, self-destructive habits, his smoking addiction. His fear of flying had not yet been one of them, but he supposed it made sense that it would be another. He got on a plane without a second thought, and when it landed in the British countryside, he took a breath.
In the distance, down a long dirt road, was a farm. A big farmhouse, a barn, and from what he could see, a few animal pens. He hefted his duffle bag higher up on his shoulder and began to approach.
He had wondered for years what he would finally say when he met Neil again. I told you I didn’t need Exy to feel fulfilled. You were wrong about me. I never stopped loving you. All of that went out the window when he saw a familiar head of auburn hair. It had grown, and Neil had tied it back in a bun kept in place by a pair of beaten-up chopsticks. His scars had faded a lot too, more so than the last time Andrew had seen him in person. He even seemed to have grown a couple inches, putting him at a solid five inches taller than him. Even with all the changes, Neil was still the most beautiful person Andrew had ever seen.
“Wondered if you’d come looking,” he said after a moment.
“Almost didn’t,” replied Andrew.
Neil turned and walked inside, leaving the door open behind him, and Andrew followed. It opened out into a hallway, with a living room off to one side and the kitchen at the end. To his left was a staircase leading up to the first floor. The walls were panelled with wood and sparce pictures were hung up along the corridor. One was a picture of all of the Foxes, taking at Dan and Renee and Allison’s graduation. Another was Neil and the Monsters on a night out at Eden’s Twilight. The third was Neil, Kevin, and Matt, who had played on the same Exy team for three seasons. The fourth was a picture of Neil and Andrew.
Andrew was leaning back, arms braced along the back of the sofa, and Neil was wedged between Andrew’s thigh and the arm, his legs spread out across Andrew’s lap and the sofa beyond. He looked up at Andrew with a look of awe, a look that told of just how much he adored him. Andrew seemed apathetic when he looked back, but he remembered that picture being taken, and he knew the feelings of disbelief at Neil’s love for him that ran through his mind at the same time.
“Tea?” Neil called from the kitchen. His accent had slipped from a Baltimore accent to a significantly more British accent. Andrew hadn’t spent much time in the country, so he couldn’t quite place where it was from, but there was a twang to it that said it might be more Northern.
“Tea?”
Neil poked his head out to meet Andrew’s gaze. “I’m having some anyway. Is that a yes or a no?”
Andrew sucked in a sharp breath, and the look in Neil’s eyes told him he knew exactly what he was doing. He nodded, and Neil disappeared behind the doorframe once again. Andrew couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand not having his eyes on him after so long, so he shut the door behind him and trailed out into the kitchen.
It had a rustic feel to it, with wooden cabinets and counters, and an old gas cooker in place of the average electric cookers. There was a basket of eggs on one side, two empty glass milk bottles on another. Above their heads were braided ivy and flowers which must’ve been starting to die off, because the leaves were looking a little crispy and yellow.
Neil himself was stood at the counter in front of a kettle, humming and swaying his hips. He had done that, sometimes, in the kitchen in Columbia, closing his eyes and bopping his head to music that only he could hear. Andrew had missed it, almost as much as he missed every single other thing about Neil.
He had lived fifteen years without any of this, and somehow it had passed in the blink of an eye.
“Sugar? Milk?”
“I hate you.”
Neil looked back at him over his shoulder. “I see the years haven’t made you any less emotionally constipated.”
“You fucking left.”
He turned, leaning back against the counter. Behind him, the tea brewed.
“You left first.”
“I told you,” snapped Andrew. “I told you that what I wanted to do would change nothing.”
“I would’ve followed you,” said Neil. He seemed to be doing his best to feign indifference, but Andrew could hear the gravel in his voice that told him just how hurt he really was. “To the ends of the Earth. You told me not to follow you.”
“They would’ve killed you.”
“You mattered more.”
Silence reigned throughout the kitchen. Neil turned back to the mugs of tea behind him, taking a moment to stir them slowly and then pouring milk in both, with no sugar in one and four teaspoons in the other, which he handed to Andrew.
“You still do,” he added.
“How did they let you go?”
Neil sighed, resting back against the counter, and bringing his mug to his lips, blowing it gently.
“Nobody knew this, but in that last game, I got an injury.” He smelled the tea slowly. “I wouldn’t have been able to play another season no matter what. Called Ichirou to tell him, and he said I could either come work for him or disappear for good. So I called up some old family members. My Uncle Stuart isn’t around anymore, but I still have cousins here, and they were all too happy to set me up with this nice little farm.” He took a sip of his tea and then grimaced. “Too hot.”
“Why a farm?”
Neil shrugged. “Grow your own food, make your own food. Out of the way, disconnected from the rest of the world. Plus…” He smiled into his mug. “I like chickens.”
“So why did you let me follow you?”
He set aside his mug. “I have never, ever made you do something you don’t want to do, and I have never tried to stop you from doing something you want to do.”
“Liar.” Andrew felt his lips quirk a little and he looked into his mug to distract himself. “You told me several times not to kill the Foxes.”
“Selfish reasons,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d gone to jail.”
“You broke up with me.”
“Yes, I did.” Neil scooped his tea back up, apparently unsure what to do with his hands. “We were arguing a lot. It hurt. I didn’t want to be angry with you for giving up Exy but I couldn’t figure out what else to feel. I, uh…” He chuckled weakly, analysing his feet with apparent fascination. “I got a therapist my last few years I was playing. Helped me to figure out that I was scared to lose you. So scared that I ended up losing you anyway.” He shook his head. “Turns out I’m just as human as anyone else.”
“You’ve always been more human than anybody else on this planet.”
Neil flushed, looking up at Andrew meekly. “Anyway, I, uh… I think I wanted you to follow me. Didn’t think it’d take this long to be honest.”
“Had to wait for everyone to stop looking,” said Andrew slowly. “I had some loose ends to tie up. Said goodbye to Aaron and Katelyn and the kids. Nicky and Erik. Kevin.”
“You didn’t have to say goodbye to your family, Andrew.”
Andrew shook his head. “I chose you over them when I was twenty and I will continue to choose you over them for the rest of my life.”
“You, uh…” Neil shuffled nervously, taking a long sip of tea. “You still feel the same way, then?”
“I could live a thousand years,” said Andrew quite decisively, setting his tea aside and approaching Neil with feeling, “and I would still be in love with you every single day.”
Neil set his mug aside instantly and reached for Andrew, tangling his fingers in his shirt. “Stay,” he gasped out. “You told me to stay, and I did. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Sta-”
“Yes or no?”
Instead of an answer, Neil tugged him closer, pressing their lips together in a firm kiss, a kiss that he hoped communicated the years of pining he’d done. Andrew was the first to pull away when he felt Neil’s chest jolting under his hands, hands that he hadn’t realised had been systematically trailing their way up his torso. He rested his forehead against Neil’s, relishing in the way their breaths mingled between them.
“I’m staying. I will always stay if that’s what you want me to do.”