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1
Neil isn’t blind. A little oblivious, and sometimes stupid, but not blind.
After a few months of working through his feelings - a long internal battle that had revealed more about himself than he would’ve liked - Neil had managed to work out what he wanted with Andrew. He felt protective and protected, safe and genuinely happy no matter what they were doing. They had rough spots, but Neil was sure that anyone in a developing relationship goes through them. Now, in his second year at Palmetto, they’d gotten down a better dynamic to deal with balancing practice and schoolwork and time alone.
They even managed to carry on going to Edens during some weekends. Aaron always took his chances to opt out, but Nicky still enjoyed the place and Kevin still had an unhealthy tolerance of alcohol. Some of the new foxes went there as well, but most of the time Neil spent there was by Andrew’s side, trying to keep an eye on how much Kevin had drunk while also sure the guy knew his own limits better than anyone else. If Andrew was sitting at the table, Neil would be at his side. If he got up to get more drinks from the bar, Neil would follow. He didn’t want to go onto the dance floor but would drink whatever Andrew ordered him.
At the moment, he was leaning against the bar, waiting for Roland to return with the drinks Andrew had ordered. Neil took the time to stare at Andrew, the booming music and flashing lights only seeming to emphasize every good thing about his face. His hair was styled in a way that made it look attractively windswept, and Neil was pretty sure that Andrew had put on eyeliner. Or maybe it was just the lights in the club making them pop more, but they did. It was hard to see the natural hazel, to pick out the flecks of gold mixed with olive green and brown, but Neil tried his best, anyway.
Andrew looked great. Neil always thought he looked great, and therefore today was no different, and there wasn’t anything special about it, either. It wasn’t that Andrew didn’t look better than usual, it was that he was always good-looking.
Roland came back with the tray, breaking Neil out of his staring contest with the side of Andrew’s head. The bartender didn’t stay long, saying a few words to Andrew before walking down towards others sitting along the bar, leaving them alone again. Andrew picked up one glass and slid it to Neil’s hand, who grabbed it but didn’t drink it, instead taking a moment to look it over. By the smell Neil was pretty sure there was whiskey in it, because for some god-awful reason Andrew seemed determined to get Neil to like it, or he enjoyed the faces Neil made when the burn would hit his throat. Probably the latter, now that he thought about it.
Neil glanced back at Andrew, thinking of something to say about the drink, but the other wasn’t looking at him. Neil leaned forward, spotting someone on his other side: a girl that couldn’t have been much taller than himself, wearing jeans and a tank top. Neil couldn’t hear what they were talking about over the sound of the music playing, but he wasn’t concerned. It was far more entertaining to watch Andrew’s blank face stare her down until she started to visibly falter and then walk away. When she finally did, Andrew turned around to face Neil again.
“Wrong twin?” Neil yelled over the music, smirking to himself at his own joke.
Andrew’s face didn’t change. He wordlessly grabbed one of the shots on the tray and knocked it back, neck flexing attractively and - yeah, if Neil didn’t have a neck fetish before, he probably did now. “Stop staring,” Andrew yelled back.
Neil looked away, holding more tightly to his glass and getting out of the stool he’d been sitting on. Andrew got up as well, holding the tray and walking towards the table they’d been sitting at earlier. Neil followed and stared at his shoulders the entire way.
2
Not every practice is going to go well. Sometimes the foxes seem to flow nicely, predicting each other’s moves perfectly and able to step around each other like they were performing some kind of complicated dance. Neil liked those days, because it was his job as captain to get the team on track, and he liked it better when he didn’t have to yell at the team to stop squabbling every few minutes.
A lot of times, he misses when Dan was captain instead. He only slightly feels bad for whatever hell he must’ve put her through during practices.
Today wasn’t a day that the foxes worked well. Wymack had already sent most of the team running laps at least three times now, and Neil wasn’t excluded from the bunch. Most days he could work with Kevin, especially after night practices, but he could no longer tell if it had been him that was originally pissed off or his teammate. They kept butting heads, crashing into each other and blocking goals that Andrew would’ve blocked anyway. The team couldn’t help but start their own drama amongst themselves after seeing the way the two worked.
“That’s it,” Wymack yelled at them when he finally called enough for the day. The team had gathered around, breathing heavily and glaring at anything that moved. “You all are going to go sleep off whatever mindset you’re in right now. If you’re still fighting like cats and dogs by practice tomorrow, I’ll make all of you run until you pass out.” Wymack nodded towards the locker rooms. “Get out.”
They did. Neil dragged his feet, still fuming at everything that had happened that day. He couldn’t stop seeing red whenever Kevin was in his line of sight, so he sat on one of the benches and stared at the lockers, counting to himself until he’d stopped panting for air. By that point, most of the team had gone and he could shower in peace, so he got to his feet and started pulling off his pads, ripping off his gloves with a bit more intensity than usual.
He was just grabbing his small bottle of shampoo when he heard footsteps approaching. For a moment Neil was worried it was either Kevin or Wymack, but when he glanced over his shoulder he found it was neither. Andrew was just getting back from the showers, dressed in boots and dark jeans, his arm bands in place and a t-shirt on. A white towel was around his neck, hanging off the back of his head like he’d tried to quickly dry his hair and then left it in place for the walk back to his locker.
Andrew glanced at him once, and then turned to open his locker. Neil watched him put away some soap and his folded jersey, eyes catching on the biceps that were exposed thanks to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up as he moved. Andrew’s muscles have always been something Neil admired: at first he used to watch Andrew press weights and was impressed, unable to take his eyes away in something he mistook for some kind of jealousy. Neil still wishes he could lift as much weight as Andrew, but he also enjoys spotting much more, because at those moments he’s supposed to stare, even if Andrew scolds him for not watching the bar at all times.
When the locker slammed closed, Neil jumped just slightly, taken out of his trance. Andrew was pulling the towel away from his shoulders, watching Neil back with a small frown on his face. Neil managed to not say anything, even if he had a lot on his mind, and instead focused on watching Andrew approach.
“I’m leaving in ten,” Andrew told him when they were standing right next to each other, chests so close they were almost touching.
Neil thought it was pretty unfair that he was being expected to think at a moment like this. “Okay,” he said dumbly, because that was the only response he could think of.
“I’m leaving in ten,” Andrew repeated.
Oh. Neil nodded and turned around, shaking his head as though that would get the thoughts of how nice Andrew looked out of his mind, and rounded up the rest of what he needed for the showers. If he wasn’t ready and in the Maserati in ten minutes, Andrew would leave him to run back to Fox Tower. Which Neil could do, he’s done it before, but he was still tired after the draining practice and would prefer to see where Andrew would take him instead.
It wasn’t like they had to go back to the dorm right away. And after stressful days like this, a car ride was usually just what it took to calm down again. Neil took the shortest shower of his life, probably only rinsing the sweat off his body rather than actually cleaning up, and was pleased that they drove out of Palmetto when he climbed into the passenger’s seat.
3
Whoever invented midterms deserved to be dead, Neil was convinced, because clearly they hadn’t considered that someone would be playing a sport like their life depended on it while also taking eighteen credits because they were an idiot who wanted to finish their gen-ed. requirements a semester early. In short, whoever invented midterms hadn’t done it with Neil Josten in mind, which meant that Neil felt like he’d been staring at his notes so hard that his eyes were going to fall out soon.
Sometimes he wishes he could memorize things the way Andrew could, because he could waste an entire week playing video games instead of studying and still pass everything. On the other hand, Neil felt like he was drowning in textbooks and notes, and he was also sure he’d memorized more from quizzing Kevin with flashcards full of random facts about Ancient Rome than his own material about sequences and series. The inventor of calculus also deserved to be dead, Neil decided, and was pleased that Sir Isaac Newton had been dead for a very, very long time.
Kevin was studying in the bedroom, because when he asked Andrew to turn down the volume to whatever video game he was playing Andrew had just turned it up more. Neil could deal with the noise, tuning it out to focus on re-writing his old notes like Katelyn had suggested to him, but now that he’d taken a moment to rub his eyes and try to think of anything except mathematical formulas, he was distracted by whatever Andrew was playing. Neil got up from the desk to sit on the floor next to the beanbag Andrew was sitting in, watching him play as some small green character trying to take on a large boss, which seemed to be a giant floating head with two hands.
“What’re you playing?” he dared to ask.
“Shh,” Andrew shushed him, not looking away from the screen.
Neil figured he could find out later and watched. Andrew was good at beating video games, probably because of his skills as a good goalkeeper requiring him to keep his eyes on everything, knowing exactly when to move and how to do it. Or he just had some natural talent, but Neil thought it was impressive, anyways. At some point during the boss battle, he looked away from the screen to watch Andrew instead, which was more entertaining.
His fingers moved quickly over the controller’s buttons, which was almost a hypnotizing sight. Andrew had painted his fingernails black again, but the nail polish was already chipping after a week. Neil thought that Andrew had nice hands: they were large but not bulky, strong and but not rough, unyielding but gentle. One night they had been lying in bed together and Neil had been allowed to look over one of Andrew’s hands, trying his best to learn every detail about them. He’d liked that night, and thought that he’d like to do it again.
“Do you want to play?” Andrew spoke up, bringing Neil out of his thoughts.
“Huh?”
Andrew looked back at the screen, where his character was picking up a heart-shaped item and then jumping into a purple portal of some kind. “What, were you trying to figure out how I fight?”
“No,” Neil admitted, then bit his lip to keep from admitting he was staring at Andrew’s hands because he thought they were nice.
“Either study or watch the game,” Andrew ordered.
Neil didn’t want to study, but he knew he shouldn’t stare more than he already had, so he looked back at the TV screen. It was distracting when he could hear Andrew’s fingers moving over the buttons again, to the point that he wasn’t watching what was happening but instead just focusing on the sound to his left.
Andrew let out a low sigh through his nose. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Neil argued.
“Yes, you are.” Andrew moved a foot to nudge one of Neil’s shoulders. “Stop.”
“Okay,” Neil said, forcing his focus to return to what was happening on the screen. Or to try and recall the formulas he had to know for his upcoming midterms. If Andrew noticed that Neil couldn’t stop thinking about his hands, he didn’t make any more comments about it.
4
It wasn’t uncommon for them to suddenly go out, but every time it happened Neil never felt prepared for it. The first time Andrew had taken him for some food and then found a secluded place to park the Maserati, allowing them to eat and talk about whatever they wanted and then eventually make out in the backseat, Neil felt pretty comfortable labeling that as a date. He’d gone so far as to message Matt about it, who told him he most definitely had been on a date and thanks, he’d just won a lot of money. Neil couldn’t be bothered to ask what the foxes had been betting on now and left it as is.
He didn’t say it out loud, anxious about Andrew suddenly taking the date back or something, but after months Neil knew for sure that’s what this was. Tonight, Andrew only had to quickly flash Neil the keys to get him to follow, and they went to some local diner that sold really good sandwiches. They got their food to go and then Andrew drove them down a highway, a long drive that spanned until after the sun set. By that point they had reached some secluded area with a great view of the night sky, which had significantly more stars in it than were at campus.
“Are we stargazing?” Neil asked when they got out of the car, sitting on the hood of the Maserati and eating the greasy sandwiches. He’d already used up the three napkins Andrew had handed him, so he wiped his fingers off on his pants so he could grip his water bottle well.
“Something like that,” Andrew replied.
Neil looked back at the night sky. “One time I stargazed on the run. I was in a bus, but the whole sky seemed to light up.” He’d been eleven and moving around with his mother, and hadn’t yet been so out of touch with life that the view of millions of stars in the sky wasn’t breathtaking. “We could go somewhere. Maybe next year, before the dorms open?”
Andrew just shrugged, his head tilted back to look at the dark sky. Here the only light offered was from the moon and the Maserati’s lights, so it was difficult to see his face. Neil couldn’t tell what expression he was making at the proposal to go on a road trip together, and he hadn’t received a verbal answer either, so he let it be. A few minutes later, he finished his sandwich and put his box to the side, glancing at the stars again before looking at Andrew.
It was hard to make out his facial features, but not impossible. The dark couldn’t quite hide Andrew’s side profile, and the light breeze that moved through the area they were in tussled his hair just slightly. Neil slowly looked down from the small jut of Andrew’s chin to his strong jawline, eyes adjusting more easily to the dark the longer he looked. Andrew’s adam's apple moved when he swallowed, his head angled back only offering a better view. Neil wanted to kiss his throat, to leave a light nip to Andrew’s pulse point and listen to the slight hitch of breath he knew he’d receive in return.
He was only slightly disappointed that the dark covered up Andrew’s light freckles and the color of his eyes. But those he had memorized, even though he’d never get tired of looking.
“Are you even watching the meteor shower?” Andrew spoke up, head tilting as he looked Neil’s way.
No, Neil wanted to say. He hadn’t noticed the streaks in the sky and didn’t feel like looking away, because as breathtaking as it would be to watch he knew it wouldn’t be able to compare to what Andrew looked like right now. He could stare for hours and not be bored - he had stared for hours and not become bored - which is why he decided it was so hard to finally drag his gaze upwards.
The meteor shower was pretty. But just not as pretty as Andrew looked, sitting on the hood of his car. Neil was tempted to say so, but he bit the inside of his cheek until it hurt to keep from blurting out loud. Andrew must’ve noticed, because he poked the cheek Neil was biting.
“Watch,” he encouraged.
“I am,” Neil argued.
“I didn’t bring you all the way out here so you could stare at me.” Neil blinked and looked Andrew’s way again, who was shrouded in darkness once more. “You do that every other day. Look at the stars instead.”
“So, you’re saying it’s okay for me to stare at you any other day?” Neil asked, smiling openly, and not at all a bit cheeky.
“I’m telling you to stare at the stars right now.”
“Okay,” Neil agreed, looking skyward again. That hadn’t been a ‘no’, but not quite a ‘yes’ either. He’d have to ask again later.
5
Of all his favorite things to do, kissing Andrew was definitely towards the top of that list.
Neil enjoyed just about everything they did: lazy morning kisses, a kiss ‘hello’ when they saw each other again, kisses to fingertips and forehead kisses, cheek kisses and neck kisses and everything in between. Neil had been told ‘yes’ to giving Andrew a kiss on his face so long as they were in front of one another and the mood was right. He liked kissing Andrew’s cheek while making food or talking or doing homework, and did it as often as he could.
But what was even better than kissing were the moments afterwards.
On his list of things he liked to do, laying in the afterglow with Andrew at his side was definitely number one. Like today, the two had laid down on the bed and kept space between their bodies everywhere except for their lips. Neil felt like his were definitely red and swollen, but not in a painful way. It was a satisfying feeling, and it only got better when he could see Andrew’s face so closely.
Like this, when they were laying horizontal and only a few inches were separating them he could admire every little bit of Andrew’s face. Neil could see the way his blonde hair framed his face, a few strands falling near his eyes but not long enough to cover them. His eyebrows were relaxed, not pulled into a glare or his mask of indifference, and Neil felt like he wanted to treasure this look the most. Andrew’s eyes were still closed, his long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones that were covered with light freckles that tracked over the bridge of his nose. Andrew’s lips were also light red, a pretty contrast to the rest of his skin tone.
But when Andrew opened his eyes and looked at Neil, he felt like his heart might stop.
Neil couldn’t get why people don’t wax more poetry about people with brown eyes, because the different colors he could pull from Andrew’s were ones he felt he’d never seen before. Technically Andrew’s eyes were hazel in color, muted green swirling with the other earthy tones in his irises. In some lights, his eyes looked like amber. In others, they could look coppery or bronze, and some days the green came out more. But Neil liked the brown the best: the flecks of dark mahogany, the chestnut, the few lines of gold. The dark chocolate, the dark wood, the color of sand after the ocean waves rolled over it. And, of course, the olive green mixed in between.
He almost opened his mouth to tell Andrew just how beautiful his eyes actually were. Neil wanted to describe every color he could find, to see if maybe Andrew knew what he was seeing, and finally have a name for them. He wanted to talk about how they looked right now compared to other times, to whisper how he could waste hours staring at them and how he wanted to.
But he didn’t. Neil’s lips parted to say something, but Andrew beat him to it.
“Staring,” he simply pointed out.
“I know,” Neil replied. “Want me to…?”
He was offering to look away, even if it would be a chore to drag his eyes away from Andrew’s. But he received a ‘no’ to his question and happily continued looking his fill, head comfortable where it was on a pillow. Andrew blinked at him a few times, then closed his eyes as though he was going to take a nap, cutting off Neil’s view, who forced himself to only feel slightly annoyed by it.
“Sleep?” he asked.
“Hmm,” Andrew hummed. It wasn’t an answer, so Neil decided to just lay there, and tried to pick out a different part of Andrew’s face to stare at instead.
+1
It was early Sunday morning, and they were completely alone in the dorm room.
Kevin was taking the day to hang out with Wymack, which left the place almost deathly quiet. Not that it hadn’t been since Nicky had left for Germany, but now there wasn’t even the sounds of the TV playing or Kevin’s heavy steps that he always took. Neil had been awake for a while, listening to when Andrew had left the bed to go to the kitchenette and get some food, but he’d been so comfortable that he hadn’t wanted to move.
But he was incredibly grateful that he had gotten out of bed when he saw what was waiting for him outside of the bedroom.
Andrew was clearly still half asleep, since his eyes were slightly drooping and he’d poured himself some cereal, lightly munching on it while standing at the counter. His hair was a bit of a mess, blonde waves sticking up in all different directions and slightly pressed on one side. He was wearing the long sleeved sleep shirt he’d thrown on last night but hadn’t pulled on any pants, which gave Neil the great view of his muscular thighs peeking out from underneath his black boxer-briefs.
In short, Andrew looked great. Neil wishes he could’ve lost control of his mouth at a more magical moment, or sometime meaningful, but he couldn’t stop himself after looking his fill for a few seconds. “You’re pretty,” he blurted.
For a second, Andrew didn’t react. His head turned Neil’s way when he spoke, and he frowned for just a second, but then his half-lidded eyes suddenly opened wide. Neil was almost surprised at such a strong reaction, but he didn’t think it was a bad one. Andrew didn’t blush or glance away, but there was something in his eyes that seemed a bit off. Neil took a few steps closer to figure out what it was.
Andrew let him approach, staring the entire way. By the time they were standing face-to-face, Andrew had composed himself, clearly putting more effort than usual to appear disinterested. But he hadn’t told Neil he was stupid, or staring, or to shut up, so Neil decided to quickly say it again before the opportunity was taken away again. “You’re pretty,” he said quietly, as though he was sharing a secret. It almost felt like he was, because Andrew didn’t hide his reaction again, as subtle as it was.
His eyes went wide again, just a little bit, and Neil was close enough that he could hear Andrew’s breath hitch. Once again, he didn’t blush, but the tips of his ears turned pink and his lips parted, making him look even more pretty. Neil leaned in and aimed a kiss near Andrew's left eye, pressing his lips to Andrew’s hairline firmly. Andrew let him, aiming a frown at Neil when he stepped back, but it wasn’t very effective since his bottom lip pouted out just slightly.
Neil decided to be merciful and didn’t say it again, even though he wanted to. He wanted to tell Andrew every day if he got to see this side of him, but Neil needed to make sure that it was okay to do this. That it was something Andrew wanted, because Neil was pretty sure nobody had told Andrew just how beautiful he really was.
“Yes or no?” Neil asked, sure that Andrew would understand.
He didn’t get an answer right away, but Andrew appeared to need a moment, so he waited patiently. Andrew finally looked away, not ducking his head but merely glancing to the side. It only took a few seconds, of which Neil spent staring at Andrew’s pink ears, but finally he was given the answer he needed. “Yes,” Andrew said, a bit quiet but clearly heard, looking back at Neil as though to prove there was no hesitancy in his eyes.
Neil didn’t doubt him. Andrew never did anything he didn’t want to do, and he knew Neil would respect a ‘no’ if heard. As it was, Neil was happy to hear he could continue telling Andrew how beautiful he looked, and leaned in to kiss the same spot on Andrew’s hairline, a bit softer than before. Andrew let out a strange noise, like a weird mix between a grumble and a growl, and turned back to his cereal, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.
He still looked nice. Neil turned away to find something for himself that morning, deciding to give more compliments later. He wasn’t sure how long it would be until Andrew told him to shut up after hearing one of Neil’s random thoughts about his appearance, but it would definitely be soon if he heard that he was pretty three times in a row.
They had a lot of time. Neil would have many more opportunities to blurt out what he was thinking, and now that he had the go-ahead to do it, he would.