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Neil, Andrew thought to himself one evening, was like a car crash.
He was all smoke and flames and twisted metal, hot crimson blood on cold, hard concrete, a rough-and-tumble set of untold secrets locked in a prison of glass shards and torn leather. But try as he might, Andrew couldn’t let go– he couldn’t look away. Loving Neil was like a car crash, too. Not that Andrew would admit the love bit willingly, but it was true. All the yes's and no's sped through his mind like someone pressing the gas or slamming the brakes, scattering his thoughts like a gear shift wrenched from one place to another. Neil was a car crash, and loving him was a car crash, and Andrew couldn't find any other way to make sense of it than go for a drive.
Once he was far enough away from Palmetto, somewhere along the freeway or the interstate, Andrew's thoughts started to order themselves into neat lines. He began to try and make sense of them, one for every other car he passed.
one.
Every yes was a moment teetering on the edge of destruction. All it took were Neil's voice, Neil's words, yes yes yes, and Andrew could see it coming, unable to brake (not wanting to brake, god, he never wanted to brake when it was a yes). He saw the danger coming, heard the tires scrape and lose grip on the asphalt, felt the wind in his hair from the open window and let the nerves build until he was shaky and his breaths came in broken gasps and he felt that inescapable smile creep over his face. A yes was seeing the peril ahead, knowing what was about to happen, bracing for the crash--
But it would never come.
Andrew had always ended up in wrecks before. It was different with Neil, and he couldn't say why, but if he could just keep speeding through red lights with the redhead beside him and matching grins on their faces, if he could live under streetlamps' pale glow and on the painted asphalt and in the vignette of quiet, abandoned side-of-the-road stops, he was content to stop questioning and just shut up and drive.
two.
Every no was a foot on the brakes. Every no was Andrew catching a glimpse of the hazard lights ahead, hearing the telltale sound of tires losing their grip, and slamming on the brakes harder than ever before, because Neil was in the passenger seat. And with Neil, he couldn't risk another wreck. He didn't want to leave Neil a wreck. So every time he heard Neil's voice, Neil's words, no no no, Andrew would pull over. Come to a dead stop at the side of the road. He'd wait, and let Neil out if he wanted to go, and when Neil left, he'd do all the things they do in movies-- knock a fist off the steering wheel, turn the radio up loud, and speed off into nowhere--
But he'd always come back.
He said enough no's himself to know it was always better to come back. And when he did, Neil would be waiting, a crooked grin on his face, for Andrew to open the car door and let him in and drive him home. Somehow, Andrew was content to stop worrying and let Neil get in the car and make sure he put on his seatbelt before driving him anywhere he wanted to go. He would drive across the country if Neil wanted him to, cross highways and byways and borders and everything in between. Andrew was ready to sit in the driver's seat, let Neil do the talking, and just shut up and drive.
three--
Andrew was about to move onto the next thought when his phone rang from where it sat discarded in one of the cupholders. He glanced down, ready to tap "end call" and ignore it.
It was Neil.
Andrew turned the car around faster than was probably safe. He knew Neil was probably fine, but something in the back of his mind was chanting accident accident accident you jinxed it and now his only priority was getting back.
He swerved onto the right side of the road. make sure neil's safe make sure neil's safe
During the whole drive home, through nearly thirty minutes of anxiety and nervous fidgeting and make sure neil's safe make sure neil's safe, Andrew never thought to actually pick up the call.
too many cars to count.
When Andrew finally pulled into the parking lot by Fox Tower, he was out of breath and running on gasoline fumes. He tore out of the car and into the building, heading right for the stairs, and climbing up, up, up until he reached the floor where Neil should be. Fumbling with the keys, he wrenched the door open, expecting the worst--
And there was Neil, tucked up in blankets on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He looked up. "Oh!" he said, a pleasantly surprised sound, but surprised nonetheless. "I thought you left. You didn't answer my call."
Andrew stood in the doorway, frozen, until it finally kicked in.
neil's safe
He cleared the distance from the door to the couch in three long strides. "I thought you were--" He left the sentence open-ended, but the silence that hung in the air betrayed his meaning.
i thought you weren't okay
Neil stopped scrolling. "You know if... you know I would've called back. If I could. Or texted, or called someone else, or something."
Andrew sat down hard next to Neil. "Yes or no?" he said simply, and he heard the engine turn over.
Neil paused, and the motor revved.
"Yes."
Andrew pulled Neil closer, hugged him tight, relaxed knowing that he was safe. He took a minute to just shut up and drive, and then spoke.
"If you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights."
Neil smiled up at him. God, he loved that crooked grin. "Neither would I."