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Neil liked to waste time under the warm spray of the shower after his morning runs, so Andrew had at least fifteen minutes to get out of bed, throw a few essentials into their bag, and pad downstairs to get coffee going in the kitchen.
He sat up and rolled a crick out of his shoulder before popping his spine. The previous night’s game had been brutal on his body, but he’d painstakingly kept to his promise of only letting three balls whizz past and light up the goal behind him. He hadn’t turned or given the overhead buzzer a second of thought, just sought Neil’s face on the court and taken heart in his small but fierce smile.
He put on a pair of sweatpants, soft from years of wear, and a grey t-shirt. He slipped socks on his feet. Lastly, he stole a glance at his armbands - his only protection, salvation, and friends for so long. These days, he didn’t always wear them, especially not when it was just him and Neil lazying about on weekends. But as it were, they had plans to leave the house, so he put them on. They were as worn, and soft, and forgiving as his sweatpants.
He threw clothes into the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. Out in the hallway he could hear the shower still running, and he briefly considered stepping in to join Neil in companionable silence while shaving his day-old stubble. In the end, he left Neil to his own devices and sauntered down to the kitchen. He went straight over to a cupboard next to the fridge, pulled a tin can out as well as two mugs. One was plain and white, free of frivolous design or the obnoxious puns. That one was his. The other one was Neil’s, obviously - it was bright orange with two Exy racquets overlapping in an X. The Foxes’ logo could be seen outline beneath the racquets. It was no secret Andrew had tried to throw it out a few times, only to be thwarted in his attempt by the younger striker.
He measured the coffee grounds and got the coffee machine going. Drop after drop hit the bottom of the pot, till the machine was gurgling and then hissing. By the time Neil came down into the kitchen, barefooted and auburn curls wet, Andrew had poured the coffee and started on breakfast.
“Morning,” Neil said softly. He stayed in the doorway until Andrew nodded and beckoned him over with a pointed look.
Neil went. He always did. And their lips met briefly while Andrew unceremoniously shoved the PSU Foxes cup into his hand. “Thanks,” Neil muttered when he pulled back.
Andrew just grunted and stirred the eggs on the pan. “We’re leaving in fifteen, so eat up.”
They had miles and miles ahead of them and Andrew wanted to avoid morning commuters. People were waiting for them in a luxurious cabin up in the mountains. So they ate quickly. Andrew did the dishes afterwards while Neil loaded the car. As soon as they were both buckled in, Andrew popped the joints of his fingers – a nervous habit the prospect of Fox reunions always brought out in him.
Neil touched his knuckles gently. When their eyes met, they were understanding and encouraging.
Andrew huffed, turned the key in the ignition, then pulled out of the driveway. He checked his internal list, ticking off every item on it, before turning down the street and driving away. The hum of the Maserati’s engine always had a magical effect on him. Instant lulling.
“Your hair’s getting long,” he noted after a few minutes, at a red stop he knew took a while to shift to green. He reached over to tug on a curl, making Neil’s head turn.
Neil responded by giving him his best, most annoying, eat-shit grin. “You like it.”
Andrew tugged one last time, then let go; he didn’t dispute Neil’s claim, and it wasn’t lost on him that the Andrew from three years back would have in a heartbeat.
“D’you think Allison will yell at me like she did last time?”
“Of course,” Andrew said. His foot was itching to press down on the accelerator and gun it out of the city. The open road called to him. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy antagonizing her.”
Neil shrugged, then echoed Andrew’s sigh when the light finally turned green. Andrew knew the road called to him as loudly and persistently as it did him. In the car, alone, they could afford to shed their masks and lay down their barbed shields. There they were just two college students playing a dumb sport, who had found each other against all odds.
At the age of 18, Andrew had come to accept that his lot in life was to be alone, always on the margin of society because of who he was, of what he was. Then Neil had joined the Foxes, a messed-up kid with more than lies than a corrupt politician, who was somehow convinced Andrew wasn’t a monster.
A pipe dream through and through.
“How long till we’re there?”
“Depends,” Andrew answered. “How quick do you want me to get us there?”
“I’m in no rush,” Neil said with a smirk.
“We haven’t seen them in months. I thought you’d be desperate.”
Neil raised both eyebrows – an entire answer in itself. “Take the backroads. They can wait.”
“Can you wait?”
“When I’m with you, always.”
If Andrew’s heart did a weird little flutter in his chest, like the frantic beats of a butterfly’s wings, no one needed to know.
Andrew pulled off the interstate after half an hour of reckless, fast driving. A couple of cars honked indignantly when he cut in front of them, to which Neil twisted in his seat and raised his middle finger.
“Rude,” Andrew admonished. “Can’t take you anywhere.”
“You’re just grumpy I got there before you.”
Andrew huffed. “I’m a responsible adult.”
Neil laughed at that, bright and sharp. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Once they were on a smaller road with fewer cars, Andrew relaxed. The number of houses thinned until all there was left were fields of gold as far as the eye could see, broken only be a few scattered trees dotting the scenery.
The sun was nearing its zenith by the time Neil started fiddling with the radio knob, which meant only one thing: the striker was hungry. Andrew turned into the next rest stop advertising a diner and restrooms.
The two of them ordered burgers, fries, and Andrew a triple-chocolate peanut-butter-Oreo milkshake. Oh he could almost hear Kevin’s squeal of horror, and he delighted in it. The older striker had graduated from PSU and no longer offered solid entertainment for Andrew’s enjoyment. He almost, almost, missed the man’s incessant rants about diet, gym schedules, and no smoking. And a part of him looked forward to seeing him at the cabin, if only to push his buttons the way he knew only he could do.
Kevin was already annoyed enough at him as it was.
Andrew had recently signed with a lower-shelf team based in Lexington, South Carolina, a mere twenty-minute ride from the house in Columbia. This meant he wouldn’t have to deal with finding a new place to live. After the summer, Aaron would go to Connecticut to continue his studies at Yale, and Nicky’s five years were up so he was planning on going back to Germany to be with Erik. The house would be all his – and Neil’s on the weekends.
His soon-to-be new team was subpar at best, something Kevin hadn’t been shy in pointing out. Andrew had turned a deaf ear to every one of Kevin’s whiny phone calls. They’re a shit team, he had berated him, to which Andrew had simply said, Yes.
Nothing infuriated Kevin more than talent squandered and Andrew’s indifference. Is this because you’ll be closer to Neil? had been Kevin’s next words. Andrew had replied, Yes, and hung up.
According to Kevin Exy-queen Day, love should always come second.
Of course Andrew’s decision to sign with the Lexington Torpedoes was because of Neil. Their Court was only a two-hour drive from PSU, and he couldn’t trust the striker to stay alive one his own. And besides, waking up to find Neil sleeping next to him grounded him in ways nothing ever had before, so why would he put distance between himself and that?
Neil waved the waitress over and asked for the check as well as half a dozen soft-baked cookies to go. There was a vending machine outside the diner, and Neil inserted a few coins to make a diet Coke fall into the chute.
They were on the road three minutes, and a trip to the loo, later.
Andrew pulled down all the windows and enjoyed looking sidesways to see the wind tease Neil’s hair. He really did need a haircut, but he was beautiful, all golden and mellow in the sun, his auburn curls shining like bronze, and his blue eyes alive with fire.
When the dry afternoon heat became too much, even with the AC on, Andrew held his breath just long enough to make a decision. He removed his armbands. His arms were pale underneath, but they no longer repulsed him. They showed a part of his history, each cut a testimony to his resilience and strength.
Neil looked at him when he tossed the armbands back. They landed on the floor of the car with a heavy thud. “Pull over next time there is a stop,” Neil said.
Which Andrew did. He killed the engine and closed his eyes. He let himself breathe. Neil’s eyes were on him, he knew this, felt it like a caress, but they stayed in their well-rehearsed silence of comfort. They didn’t need words to communicate. After a few minutes, Andrew pulled one foot up on the seat, pressed his knee to his chest, and sighed deeply. He put his arm out the window and relaxed. Next to him, Neil had swiveled in his seat, leaning his back against the door, sitting comfortably cross-legged, and looking at Andrew.
How long they stayed at the deserted rest stop was anyone’s guess. At some point, Neil grabbed the cookies from his bag and handed them over to Andrew. They were only back on the road when every cookie, down to the last crumb, had been eaten.
Slowly, the day waned and the open road continued on. The sunset that kissed the horizon was glorious, the colors bleeding together artfully. The air was cooling by the time they reached the foothills and a sign with an arrow pointing to the cabin site Allison had emailed about.
They enjoyed the last half hour of silence greedily, knowing that once they were at the cabin, there would be little room for quiet comforts. Andrew had grown to tolerate, then appreciate, and finally like, the Foxes, but there was no denying he was going along for Neil’s sake. He knew Neil missed Boyd, missed the girls and their cooing over him. Hell, he even thought Neil missed Kevin.
When the wheels of the Maserati hit gravel, Andrew grimaced.
At the end of a lane rose a magnificent wooden cabin, complete with a wrap-around porch, balconies, and two chimneys. Allison always sought to outdo herself every year.
And speaking of, the woman was waiting on the porch, lips thinned with impatience. She was leaning against the railing, waiting, waiting. She erected herself on her eight or so inch heels and crossed her arms when Andrew parked the car behind Boyd and Dan’s Land Rover and cut the engine. Even from behind the wheel, he could see how perfectly manicured her nails were. He side-eyed Neil who just grinned.
At the bottom of the three steps leading to the porch, Neil came to a stop.
“Fuck you, Josten,” Allison said, pointing at Neil’s hair.
Neil had the decency to look halfway sorry. But then he turned to Andrew and whispered, “Is it too late to turn around?”
“Suck it,” was all Andrew found to say.
“Fine.”
Allison watched Neil come up to her, then grabbed his hair and tsked. “How do you want it?”
The answer was immediate. “The way Andrew likes it best.”
Andrew didn’t need to see Neil’s face to know that he was flushing a lovely pink.