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Neil was an idiot.
Neil was an idiot and he should have listened to Andrew. Because when was Andrew ever wrong about anything?
Okay, maybe that was a bit exaggerated, but Andrew actually was always right when it mattered.
Like when neither of them could fall asleep in their surprisingly shitty hotel bed, so Neil suggested they take a walk and explore the area, and Andrew had told him it was a bad idea. The Foxes had just arrived in a new town to compete against a new Exy team and everything to Neil had felt new. This included his feeling of finally being able to experience the world without the overbearing weight of his father looming over his shoulders.
He had gotten too comfortable, assumed that the FBI had handled everything, and now he was literally facing the consequences of his actions.
“Neil,” Andrew said low in warning at the same time an unfamiliar voice behind him said, “Nathaniel.”
They were all standing at the outskirts of a park. To Neil’s left, there was a vast body of water past the edge of the bridge they were standing on, and to his right, Andrew, then yards of open space with nowhere to use as cover. It was late into the night, and the sound of running water would drown out their voices. Everyone in town had long since turned in for the night. It was the perfect place and time to approach them if you were a man with a gun and a mission.
Andrew shifted closer to Neil’s side; his fists clenched tight. The vacant expression on his face revealed more to Neil than actual words could.
They were fucked.
The man smiled, and his teeth were nearly glowing white in the dark. “I’m gonna make this easy for you, Nathaniel. We’ve never met, but I knew your father,” Neil watched the man’s finger get antsy with the trigger of the gun he was gripping, “I knew him so well, in fact, that I was so close to getting my revenge on him for ruining my fucking life! Until you,” the gun spasmed in his hand at Neil, “stole that opportunity right out from under me.”
Neil assessed their odds. The man was at least ten feet away, with an obviously loaded gun and no mask to hide his identity. He was confident in his ability to get what he wanted, and he didn’t care if he was caught. He probably had nothing to lose if Neil’s father had decided it to be so. Which meant he was also desperate. If running wasn’t an option, maybe if Neil stalled him enough, he’d get sloppy. “If you know who I am, then you know that I hated my father, and that I wanted him dead just as much as you did.”
Andrew shifted the bag on his right shoulder, and it slid down his arm. He grabbed it by the strap before it could hit the ground. Neil lost the steady stream of breath in his lungs when the man turned the gun on Andrew.
It was a warning, but a useless one. Even if Andrew tried reaching into his bag, there was nothing in there that would help the two of them. They both had a knife hidden in their arm bands, but no way to reach them discretely, and neither of them could dial fast enough to call the police without being noticed.
Andrew put his left hand up in surrender, and Neil saw his actions for what they were; stalling.
Good, so they were on the same page.
The man kept his gun trained on Andrew as his eyes slid back to Neil. “I do know that, and I don’t care. What I do care about, is getting my retribution. If killing you—the boy with The Butcher’s face—will help me sleep at night, then I’m going to do it. So, you’re going to come with me,” he nodded at Neil, “and your friend is going to run back to that nice little hotel your team is staying in and pretend he never left with you tonight.” Neil could breathe again as the barrel of the gun slowly turned towards him again. The expression on the man’s face turned animalistic with anger. “Unless he wants to watch me put a bullet between your eyes right now… I’d prefer torturing you first, but I’ll make it quick if you want to give me a hard time.”
Andrew was getting impatient, and Neil could sense it in the way he shifted in place, his jaw tensed. He definitely thought that Neil’s smart mouth was going to get him shot, so Neil was careful with his words.
“What did my father do to you, exactly? Maybe I can compensate you,” Neil bargained.
The man laughed quick and loud, but it wouldn’t be enough to alert anyone. “Can you resurrect my wife? My daughter? Can you build a successful drug cartel from the ground up? Nothing you have to offer could ever repay what your father ruined for me. Killing you won’t even be enough, but it’s a start, so you aren’t getting out of this, kid.”
“Neil,” Andrew spoke in warning again, always a man of action rather than words. “Give me your hand.”
The man looked amused at that. “Cute, but not even Nathaniel can outrun a bullet.”
Neil was unsure but grabbed for Andrew’s free hand anyway. In seconds, Andrew had slipped his fingers under Neil’s right arm band and stolen his switchblade.
“Andrew!” Neil shouted, looking at him in disbelief, but there Andrew was, with an insane determination in his eyes and a useless switchblade in hand, held out in front of him like a promise. The man only laughed again, not threatened by Andrew in the slightest. “Andrew, you don’t get it, we don’t get our way in this situation. You aren’t going to win this with a knife.”
Andrew looked at him with his piercing gaze. “No, you don’t get it, Josten. There is no other option for me,” he spoke in finalities, and his eyes roamed Neil’s face like he wouldn’t get to see it again.
So that was that. Andrew was either going to get his way and stab this man to death, or he was going to die trying. Either way, he wasn’t going to back down from a fight, not when it meant Neil’s life was on the line. That is what he promised all those months ago, wasn’t it? But Neil had since cancelled their deal.
“There isn’t a promise that’s forcing you to do this right now,” Neil tried.
Andrew’s face went solemn. “Maybe not a promise, but a feeling.”
Neil lost his fight and watched Andrew carefully as he turned back to face the man ahead of them. He was unwavering, unafraid. If anything did happen to him, Neil would never forgive himself. “Just let me go. Please, Andrew. Do not risk this for me.”
“Hypocrite,” Andrew sniped at him.
“You should really listen to him, kid. Unless you want to come with us? My brother could find some use out of you; you’re just his type,” the man said jokingly, but it was obvious he meant every word. He shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket in a show of cockiness, and it was infuriating.
Neil glared in disgust. “Shut the fuck up,” he spat.
“Maybe you shouldn’t run your mouth as the only person without a weapon here,” Andrew scolded.
“A knife does not count in this situation and you know it.”
“I don’t have all night to listen to your relationship problems, boys. Once I’m done with him,” he gestured towards Neil with his gun again, “there won’t be any more problems between you. I’m doing you a favor, honestly.”
Andrew was unyielding. “Not happening.”
“Andrew,” Neil pleaded.
The man seemed desperate again. He really didn’t prefer killing Neil out in the open, but he would if he had to. “What do you think is going to happen? Either one of you dies, or both of you. It makes no difference to me. I’ve got the advantage here.”
“Do you?” Andrew asked sarcastically, and that’s when Neil knew that, no, they weren’t on the same page. Andrew had a plan, and it was a plan he wasn’t going to like if the fingers on his chest were anything to go by.
With the switchblade tucked under his thumb, Andrew pressed his palm flat to Neil’s chest. There was a warm moment where that hand was gentle, apologetic in a way, because if things didn’t work out, they really were both done for. But then Andrew was using that hand to push Neil backwards, until the back of his legs hit the bridge’s barrier, and he was tripping backwards over that short ledge.
“Andrew!” Neil protested, but it was too late. There was nothing to grab for purchase. The last thing Neil saw before falling into the water below was Andrew, swinging his backpack by the strap far enough in an attempt to block the gun as he went to close the distance between him and the man.
Once Neil hit the water, he could hear the muffled sound of gunshots, and for a moment, he contemplated not coming back up for air.
----------
“You should learn to trust me more,” Andrew said quietly, and gave no visible reaction as Neil swiped a peroxide filled cotton pad over the wound on his bicep.
Neil scoffed. “With your track record?” But then the bathroom grew silent again and Neil was forced to remember the gravity of what they had just went through; what was at risk. “I do,” he admitted.
Andrew looked deeply into Neil’s eyes for a few moments. The fact that he was even allowing Neil to help aid his wounds meant he felt the same. He didn’t need to say it.
As Neil gathered the supplies to start the stitches, Andrew gripped the edge of the counter he was sitting on and grumbled in frustration. “The cops confiscated my knife.”
“My knife, you mean,” Neil corrected as he started the first stitch. Andrew searched his pocket with his free arm before holding out a switchblade identical to Neil’s. They had received a matching set from Nicky recently. The engraving on the handle was, in fact, Neil’s initials instead of Andrew’s. Neil looked at him with suspicion. “But you used my knife.”
Andrew set the knife on the counter beside him for Neil to take later. “You’re already in hot water because of your dad. If they found your fingerprints on the murder weapon, it would have been more than just an act of self-defense; they would have started an entire investigation. Plus, you have enough to deal with while the Moriyama family is breathing down your neck.”
Neil huffed, but paused to smile at Andrew anyway. “I’ll get you a new one,” he said in lieu of an apology.
“I wouldn’t need one at all if you’d stop shit-talking your way into life-threatening situations,” Andrew teased.
“You know that what happened tonight was not because of my shit-talking,” Neil stated.
“Obviously. That’s why I’m not mad at you.”
“And am I allowed to be mad at you?”
“You would’ve done the same thing and you know it.”
“Yeah, and you would have been mad at me too.”
Andrew stopped short at that, and Neil tied off the last stitch, setting the tools aside to lean both hands against the counter. Andrew was staring at the wall past Neil’s head, deep in thought.
“Look,” Neil started, “I know I can’t ask you to put yourself first, because I would do the same for you, but I at least have a shred of self-preservation. I just wish you would care even a little about your own well-being.”
Andrew blinked and suddenly his gaze was meeting Neil’s; his expression as fiery and fervent as a straight face could be, “For me, it’s you, Neil. It’s always going to be you.”
Neil met him head-on with the same passion in his features. “You think I don’t feel the same about you?”
Without crowding him into a corner, Neil used his position to his advantage, and leaned into Andrew’s space with an unwavering determination. Andrew didn’t retreat but met Neil’s challenge. “You aren’t going to get an apology out of me.” Andrew said flatly.
“I don’t want an apology; I want you to stop acting like it wouldn’t hurt me if you died.”
Andrew lost the challenge, turning away from Neil again in feigned distaste, “Why can’t you be normal and thank me?”
“Don’t be stupid, you don’t want me to thank you.”
He doesn’t respond to that, because Neil was right, and instead let go of the tension in his shoulders in defeat. “What do you propose, Josten?”
Neil sighed. “Just don’t be so reckless, please, and I mean this in general, not just about tonight. Next time it could be us against an army of Riko’s family, and you won’t be as lucky. We have to be smarter about this stuff.” He explained, and although he wasn’t sure what smarter was just yet, he knew that working together would be a great first step.
Andrew only hummed under his breathe in a form of agreement, but he looked at Neil from the side and the corner of his lip quirked when he said, “but know that I’d win in a fight against the Moriyama family any day.”
Neil let out a sarcastic laugh, letting his hips rest on the counter so he could move dangerously closer without letting his side touch Andrew’s thigh. “I doubt that.”
Andrew’s hand lifted to grab the back of Neil’s neck, pulling him close enough to rest their foreheads together. “You’re one hell of an incentive, Junky.”
Neil didn’t move an inch.
“Yes or no?” Andrew asked.
“It’s always going to be you,” Neil answered, which meant yes.
Getting to kiss Andrew when less than three hours ago he thought he would never see him again was a humbling experience for Neil. It wasn’t the first time they’d been close to losing each other, but it was a rare moment where Neil was unable to do anything about it. It took too many seconds to get back to the water’s surface that he was certain Andrew would have already bled out by the time he got back to him.
But by some miracle, or by Andrew’s sheer force of will, he had knocked the gun away fast enough. Neil could only hope that Andrew’s luck would continue to keep him alive for as long as it has already.
“Thank you,” Neil mumbled in a moment of vulnerability against Andrew’s lips.
“Shut up,” he mumbled back and bit Neil’s bottom lip, hard.
He did, but it didn’t change how he was feeling. He pressed gentle fingers to the skin below Andrew’s newly stitched up arm, and pressed bruising lips against Andrew’s mouth, engraving that feeling into his brain, just in case.
“You’re feeling brave,” Andrew warned, but he pulled back and saw the desperation in Neil. “I’m fine, Josten. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. Stop worrying over nothing.”
“Okay,” Neil says sincerely before Andrew kisses him once, pushes Neil’s face away by his cheek and slides off the counter.
“Take a shower, you smell like a river,” Andrew announced as he left the bathroom, his bicep freshly wrapped and Neil successfully reeling.
“You’re right,” Neil called back. Because Andrew was right, and because although Neil had been terrified for him, he also appreciated him more than anything.