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Neil Josten had to stop drinking tea so late at night.
“You have to stop drinking tea so late at night,” Kevin says. Neil hadn’t noticed him enter the kitchen; Kevin was light on his feet like a cat. “It’s terrible for your sleep cycle.”
Neil scoffs, pulling the kettle off the burner with the thread-bear oven mitt that Nicky had left at their apartment last Thanksgiving. It didn’t really work for its intended purpose since the fabric had worn so thin, but Neil didn’t really care about damage to his skin by this point in his unfortunate life.
Kevin sidles up next to his shorter boyfriend. He wraps his arms around his shoulders in one swift movement, and Neil leans into the embrace, his own offer of affection. He likes it when Kevin makes physical contact with him, but he himself is much more suited toward reciprocating rather than initiating.
He feels Kevin tilt his head down so it is resting on his shoulder, and shivers at the way his breath hits the back of his ear. “I’m serious, it’s practically midnight. You’ve had too much caffeine today.”
“I’m fine,” Neil says, but he catches himself. “I won’t stay up all night. I don’t have many talents, but I know that one I for sure have is sleeping anywhere at any time. I’m an expert at it.”
Kevin laughs, the sound soft and rare. Neil can feel it reverberate in Kevin’s chest from where it’s pushed up against his upper back.
“You have plenty of talents,” Kevin says.
“Yeah, say that to me again when we’re on the court,” Neil huffs.
“I’m serious.”
“You’re always serious.”
Kevin laughs again, and pulls away from where Neil is pouring his tea into a Palmetto State mug. Neil brings the steaming cup to his lips, taking a few piping hot sips. Kevin reaches over to push the mug from his face, nearly spilling the tea. “Hey!” Neil exclaims.
“Sorry,” Kevin says, but he doesn't sound very apologetic. “You’re lucky Andrew isn’t here, he would have let you continue to burn your tongue.”
Neil grumbles his annoyance, taking another sip of his tea just to spite Kevin. “Maybe I like that about him. He isn’t as annoying about my wellbeing as you are.”
Kevin smiles, and ruffles a hand through Neil’s hair, much to the redhead’s displeasure. “Well, someone has to play doctor around here.”
“Kinky,” Neil murmurs into his mug, and Kevin bursts out laughing once again.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says, not unkindly, and turns to leave the kitchen. “For real though, come to bed when you’re done with that. I’ve already fed the cats, so you don’t have to worry about that. But I don’t want to hear any complaining in the morning if the caffeine keeps you up all night.”
“Yes sir,” Neil mimics one of Andrew’s mock-salutes.
Kevin smirks at him, before shutting off the hallway light. “And you call me kinky.”
By the time Neil crawls into bed, it’s nearing one in the morning and Kevin is already dead asleep. He has an annoying habit of passing out on top of the covers, making it practically impossible for Neil, who is almost half his size, to pull them out from under him to get comfortable. Fortunately for the both of them, Kevin had the consciousness before falling asleep to push the blanket down for when Neil eventually retired to bed.
He settles in next to his snoring mass-of-muscle of a boyfriend, broad shoulders silhouetted in the dim glow of the streetlight out the window. Neil tucks his arm beneath his head and watches Kevin breathe for a while, letting his own eyelids grow heavy.
As much as times without Andrew suck for the both of them, there’s a part of being alone with Kevin that Neil appreciates. He loves both of them so much that it hurts his head to think about. For so long, Neil didn’t think that he’d ever have anyone in his life, and he resigned himself to the idea that he would be forever on the run, alone and miserable. To think that now he lives in a nice apartment with two boyfriends, an enjoyable Exy career, and a whole family of friends to call his own is beyond his comprehension skills sometimes.
Time with either of his boyfriends was something that Neil cherished, because a small part of him still expected for it to be ripped out from under his feet the next time he had to run to a new city and a new name. It still took some convincing on his and his boyfriend’s parts to remind him that he didn’t ever have to run again.
Something about the prospect was horrifying; he had lived so long doing the same thing. He would run and run and run, never staying in the same place or being the same person for longer than he needed to. It was so familiar, he felt that he could slip back into that role easier than he would like to admit.
But he didn’t want that. He would go down fighting to keep what he had here, with Kevin and with Andrew and with everyone else that he loved so fiercely. He felt that he deserved it, after all of those years of nothing but pain and fear. And even if he didn’t, there was nothing to be said to convince him to leave what he had.
He drifts asleep fairly quickly, not realizing he’s out until he’s dreaming.
But it feels just as soon as he falls asleep, he is ripped back awake.
There’s a rattling noise coming from the front of the apartment, like someone going through a drawer. Neil’s survival instincts kick in immediately, and he sits up in bed, staying completely still to hear as much as he can.
The clattering continues, and he hears footsteps clomping on the cracked tile of the kitchen.
He smacks Kevin’s arm at his side. “Kevin.” He says.
Kevin does not stir.
Neil reaches for the gun stashed behind the bedside table, clicking the chamber open to see the full round of bullets nestled inside. He smacks Kevin’s arm again with his empty hand. “Kevin, you moron, get the fuck up.”
“What?” Kevin mumbles, pushing his face further into his pillow.
“It sounds like there’s someone in the house.”
“...What?” Kevin asks again.
“I’m going to check it out,” Neil says, climbing out from under the covers and sliding as quietly as he can toward the door. He hears Kevin mumbling more but doesn’t stick around to see him also tumble out of bed.
Neil makes his way down the hallway, checking from behind doors and attempting to be as silent as he can. He’s thankful that he wore socks to bed because it muffles his footsteps on the hardwood floor. There’s definitely someone in the kitchen; he can hear more rummaging, like someone is searching through cabinets. Most likely a robber, and Neil knows that the gun will scare them off before they actually take anything.
He pauses before the entry to the kitchen, back pressed against the wall and clicking the safety off on the handgun. The cat, stretched out on a scratching post across the hall from Neil, looks up at him and gives him a bored once-over before settling her head back down to sleep. He ignores the mocking look and swings around the corner into the kitchen, gun pointed straight at the intruder.
“Hands in the air, fucker,” Neil spits.
The figure stills from where they were rummaging in the open drawer beneath the microwave, and slowly raises his hands. He spins on his feet, facing Neil in the dimly lit kitchen, giving a very similar look as the cat just gave him.
“You got me, officer,” Andrew monotones.
Neil drops his arms in relief, clicking the safety back on the gun, placing it on the counter. “Oh, Jesus, Andrew, fuck,” he breathes, leaning against the fridge. “Don’t fucking do that, I could have blown your face off.”
Andrew drops his own hands, shrugging. “It is not my fault that you have terrible survival instincts. Didn’t you hear me unlock the door?”
“No,” Neil huffs. “I was asleep.”
“Lucky you. I haven’t had the same privilege for a whole 24 hours now.”
Kevin swings into the kitchen, shirt rumpled and eyes wild. “Neil! Are you okay? What—” He stops, sees Andrew, blinks. “Andrew?”
Andrew nods. “Guilty as charged. Are you both stupid? I live here.”
Neil glares at him. “Well, you can’t blame us for thinking you were an intruder. You’re not supposed to be back for another two days. And you were making enough noise to wake the dead.”
“Yeah, what were you doing?” Kevin asks, yawning. Kevin doesn’t do well waking up quickly. He is the dead that Andrew could have woken with all of his noise. “And why are you here in the middle of the night, two days early?”
Andrew looks over both of them with a slight curl to his lip. Neil is usually pretty good at gauging the tiny expressions that make up most of Andrew’s emotional vocabulary, but this one is foreign to him. He can’t tell if he’s pissed or neutral, which is usually how far his spectrum of feelings reaches on a normal day.
Andrew tilts his head back. “There was a flight back out last night, so I asked Coach to go early. I was sick of doing press bullshit; I can’t stand the charade we’re expected to put on for the public. I figured they wouldn’t miss me too badly, they have enough of our team to appease the media.”
Something about his answer feels stilted and off, but he moves on before Neil can think about it too hard.
“As for the noise, I was looking for a flashlight.” He points up at the light fixture above the kitchen. “The light went out.”
Kevin blinks again, like he doesn’t know what’s going on. There’s a chance that he’s still half asleep. “Why are you changing the bulb out in the middle of the night?”
Andrew ignores him, pushing past Neil to the hallway. His bag is leaning against the wall by the door, and he opens it and grabs something inside, tossing it to Kevin. “Here,” he says, pulling another something out of the bag and throwing it to Neil.
Neil examines the object that Andrew threw to him. It’s a t-shirt, printed in the style of an Exy jersey, a large 57 and GORGONS emblazoned on the back.
“A gift,” Andrew says. “From Knox. He sends his regards.”
Neil glances at Kevin who grins at his own t-shirt. “How is Jeremy?” He asks.
Andrew shrugs. “I didn’t care to ask.”
Neil places his t-shirt on the couch, taking Kevin’s as well. “We can text him our thank you’s in the morning. But now we should sleep.” He glances at Andrew, observing the dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled state of his hair.
“Right,” Kevin says. He’s swaying on his feet and Neil is worried that if they don’t get him back to bed soon he might just pass out right in the hallway.
Andrew moves forward, taking Neil’s wrist in his hand. The touch is gentle; it’s his way of giving Neil the space to back away if he needs or wants, neither of which apply to Neil right now. When Neil doesn't pull away, Andrew leans in, glancing up at him with his honey brown eyes.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” Neil says, and Andrew connects their lips in a kiss. It’s sweeter than Neil was expecting, subtle caresses of Andrew’s tongue and tender nips at his bottom lip. Neil feels a bit self conscious at the way his mouth probably tastes from sleep, but if Andrew has any problem with it he doesn’t slow down or back away.
When they part, Andrew moves into Kevin’s space. He asks the same question, and after getting a sleepy confirmation, he allows Kevin to lean down to kiss him as well. Andrew wouldn’t be caught dead reaching up to kiss either of his boyfriends and requires them to bend down to his humble level. Andrew’s hand goes up to Kevin’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb before pulling away.
“Goodnight,” Andrew says as he goes down the hall, though he stops to pet the cat before going to their room.
Neil orbits toward Kevin, staring after Andrew. Kevin’s gaze is locked in the same place.
“That was weird,” Kevin states. “Really, this whole thing is weird. I feel like I’m still asleep.”
Neil shakes his head. “Nah, that was weird.”
They hear a drawer being pulled open in the bedroom, most likely Andrew unpacking his light bag before changing out into his sleep clothes. Neil can’t help the grin that breaks through his face.
“You know,” he says. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that he missed us.”
Kevin scoffs. “Jesus, I really am still asleep.”
“No,” Neil says. He takes Kevin’s hand, bumping his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’re awake.”
They all finally fall asleep not much later, curled up in each other’s spaces and breathing in each other’s presences.