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Summary
Andrew spoke again, "You do have something to offer me."
Now, that was curious. Porter furrowed his brows, hands curling around his mug, "What?"
"I'm not fond of change," Andrew said. It sounded more honest than Andrew had ever sounded, though Porter didn't trust it. He put the terms on the table, "Kevin doesn't change how we interact, and I'll keep out of how you interact."
Weariness settled into Porter's frame. "You just want things to stay the same?" He asked, "And I get everything I want in exchange? That simple?"
"It's that simple." Andrew wasn't lying about that. Andrew didn't lie about his deals, Porter knew that much. At least until he wrapped his little hands around your neck and gave an impromptu ripping of the contract. That would hopefully not happen, but Porter didn't dare put hope in Andrew -- instead, he put hope in the idea that Andrew wouldn't crack until Porter had a few years to figure things out with Kevin.
Porter said, "Then, deal."
Or, The Edgar Allan Ravens have so many issues, Kevin is very, very gay, and the Vixens have a token white boy on their squad. Hijinx ensues.