Work Text:
1
It starts small and simple.
Andrew and Neil are watching TV together on the couch in the dorm. They are sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, the closest that they allow themselves to be in situations that aren’t sex or comfort related.
It is moments like these that Neil finds himself thinking about the other Foxes, and how easily they show physical affection to each other. To Neil. Dan patting him on the back, Matt slinging an arm around his shoulders, and Allison ruffling his hair. Neil used to hate it, used to shy away from it, but now he can’t deny the fact that those simple touches are often the highlight of his day.
Neil wonders– not for the first time– what it would be like to share something like that with Andrew. This doesn’t mean that he is unsatisfied with the lack of it, though. He understands perfectly why that isn’t simple for Andrew, and Neil wouldn’t hold it against him if he said no.
But, of course, Andrew can’t say no until Neil asks. And Neil has been trying. Well, not so much trying . More so just building up the courage. He knows it would do no harm to ask, but for some reason, he couldn’t get himself to do it.
Until now.
He didn’t know what they were watching at this point, since he’d spent the majority of the time thinking about Andrew and asking and touching and–
There is no turning back because the second he turns his head in Andrew’s direction, Andrew is looking at Neil from the corner of his eye. So, Neil shoves his worries down and asks, “Putting my head on your shoulder, yes or no?”
It’s an instant relief just to have asked, even though he doesn’t have an answer yet. He is not worried about Andrew’s response, he is not worried that it will be a no. If it is a no, Neil will accept it without any offence taken.
Andrew stares blankly at Neil for a long, silent moment. Neil can see the cogs turning in his head as he thinks it over.
Then, “Yes.”
Neil isn’t sure what answer he’d been expecting, but he’s surprised either way. He only hesitates a second before he lets his head drop onto Andrew’s shoulder. And it’s… comfortable? Andrew is built, not nearly as bony as Neil– though Neil has been putting on some weight during his time with the Foxes– so it is not uncomfortable . It is not a pillow, but Neil doesn’t mind it.
Andrew is a bit tense, a common reaction for Andrew when it comes to touch, so Neil keeps his eyes on Andrew as he asks, “Is this okay?”
To which Andrew responds by letting out a soft breath and then a ‘yes’.
Satisfied, Neil turns his attention back to the TV and tries not to pay too much attention to the feeling of Andrew’s shoulder against his temple, to the closeness. He cannot, however, ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest when Andrew relaxes and the tension leaks out of his form.
2
The next time it happens, they are sitting on the roof after night practice. Andrew lifting a cigarette to his lips and Neil just enjoying the secondhand smoke. They don’t usually talk at this point. Between two team practices, classes, and night practice with Kevin, they are too tired to do anything more than sit in silence, soaking in each other’s presence, watching the city below them and the sparkling sky above.
It has been a few weeks since the last time it happened, so Neil should have been expecting that craving (for physical affection or just Andrew?) to make its appearance again. But he wasn’t, and the thought invades his mind silently and suddenly: what would it be like to hold Andrew’s hand?
Neil turns his attention down to Andrew’s free hand, resting on the cement between them.
They haven’t done that before, and Neil would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Handholding was, admittedly, a step down from the intimacy of laying one’s head against someone’s shoulder, but for some reason, it felt like more.
Would Andrew be okay with it?
Would Andrew like it?
Would Neil like it? Neil cannot recall any fond memories of people touching his hands.
Neil looks up, only to find Andrew already staring at him. He fails to fight off a grin as he takes the opportunity to tease the blond. Usually, Neil would be the one staring, and Andrew the one to call him out on it.
“Staring.” He says smugly.
“You were first.” Is Andrew’s childish retort.
Neil doesn’t respond. He flicks his gaze to Andrew’s hand again, then back up to his face in silent question.
“Use your words, Bunny.”
Which, yeah, Neil should have expected that response. He sighs anyway, bites the inside of his cheek, and clenches his hands in his lap. The nervousness of asking is back. He swallows, taking his hesitance with it.
“Can I hold your hand?”
And, of course, Andrew knew the whole time what Neil was going to ask, so he wordlessly flips his hand over, resting his palm up in open acceptance. Neil hovers his hand over Andrew’s for a moment, only closing the gap when Andrew rolls his eyes and grumbles a ‘yes, idiot’.
Neil, once again, stares down at their hands. Conjoined, fingers tangled together. An embrace. Neil thinks it is far more intimate than anything they’ve done before.
Andrew stares and squeezes Neil’s hand once to bring his attention back up. Neil drags his eyes back up to meet Andrew’s. Honey. It’s Neil’s favourite colour. Neil squeezes Andrew’s hand in return.
“I like this.” He confesses. Because he does.
Andrew brings his cigarette back up to his lips and takes a deep drag, then blows the smoke in Neil’s face. Neil resists the urge to hum in contentment.
“Junkie.”
Neil doesn’t know if he means the handholding or the smoke. Either way, he’s right.
3
Neil wakes up in the Columbia house. Andrew and Neil had made the trip alone because Aaron had a test to study for and Andrew had simply denied Nicky and Kevin permission to join them. Nicky had tried to argue that it was his house and Andrew couldn’t just kick him out, but Andrew had just ignored him and he gave up almost immediately.
He opens his eyes to see Andrew laying beside him. Yesterday had been a good day, so they had slept in the same bed, something that was becoming more common these days. Neil almost thinks Andrew is still asleep, showing no signs of having woken up, but after a moment, Neil notices the small crease between Andrew’s eyebrows.
Immediately, Neil knows something is wrong, but with Andrew, it’s always hard to tell. It could range anywhere from hunger to the beginning of a bad day– which was somewhat expected, following a good day.
Neil’s voice is raspy and deep from sleep. “Drew?”
No response.
That wakes Neil up almost instantly.
“Andrew.” He says again, firmly. Andrew doesn’t like to be treated like something fragile, so he tries not to let his worry leak into his tone.
Finally, Andrew grunts and shifts to bury his face further in the blankets, which are piled mostly on him because Neil runs warm.
“Do you want me to leave?” He pushes himself up on his elbows, prepared to leave if asked to.
There is a muffled huff from the mountain of blankets and Neil can imagine Andrew rolling his eyes. Andrew shakes his head and mumbles stiffly, “Migraine.”
It clicks then, and Neil’s expression shifts to that of understanding, even though Andrew can’t see it.
“Oh,” Neil replies stupidly.
Andrew gets migraines sometimes. Not very often, but more than most people, so they have a routine to follow.
Neil lowers his voice when he speaks up again. “Alright, I’ll go get everything,” He says and slips out of bed. He first closes the blackout curtains, then goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some medicine– even though he knows he will have to fight to convince Andrew to take it. He grabs a washcloth from the closet in the hallway and wets it with cold water in the bathroom.
When Neil returns to the bedroom, Andrew begrudgingly sits up. He takes the glass of water when offered, but he pauses to stare at the hand holding out a small pill. He shoots a fierce glare at Neil, who just raises an eyebrow and shakes his hand a little as if to say ‘take it’.
Andrew gives in almost immediately. He huffs, winces, and snatches the pill from Neil’s palm, swallowing it with a few gulps of water. Neil takes the glass when he’s finished and places it on the nightstand.
Andrew lays back down, this time flat on his back, and Neil lays the cold cloth across his forehead, careful not to cover his eyes.
“Want me to stay or go?” Neil asks again because Andrew didn’t really answer earlier.
“Do what you want.” They both know that means ‘stay’.
Neil pries the blankets open to crawl into bed beside Andrew, staying far enough to avoid accidentally touching him. He takes out his iPod to look at Exy articles and videos– which he watches on mute.
They settle in that comfortable silence for a few minutes. Neil looks down at Andrew to check if he’s still awake. By the uneven rise and fall of his chest and the way his eyebrows are still pinched together, Neil can tell he is.
Without realizing, Neil blurts, “Can I touch your hair?” He regrets it almost immediately. Andrew doesn’t like to be touched when he’s sick, even just letting Neil stay in the room like this is still relatively new. Obviously, Neil has gotten too comfortable.
Andrew jolts at the unexpected noise, a barely noticeable movement to anyone who isn’t Neil.
Neil opens his mouth to shut down his own offer, but surprisingly Andrew responds with a confident ‘yes’. Despite the certainty in Andrew’s response, Neil hesitates. When Neil doesn’t move, Andrew cracks an eye open to stare at him in a way that says ‘well?’.
Finally, Neil reaches an arm out to run his fingers through the blond strands.
Andrew closes his eyes, and when he shows no signs of discomfort, Neil lets his nails scrape gently along his scalp. Andrew’s hair is a bit tangled, having not been brushed yet today, so Neil smooths out the knots as he goes.
Enamoured with the softness of Andrew’s hair, he nearly misses the low sigh that Andrew lets out. Neil has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning like a fool.
4
The Foxes are having a movie night in the girls’ dorm, none of this year’s new Foxes have been invited. Nicky, Kevin, Aaron and Renee are situated on the floor, while Dan, Matt and Allison are on the sofa. Renee is leaning back against Allison’s legs, and Matt and Dan are snuggled together. Andrew and Neil are on the loveseat.
The movie is supposed to be a mystery-type thing, but Andrew and Neil keep guessing the plot twists, whispering comments back and forth throughout the movie.
“She’s an awful liar.” Neil accuses as one of the female leads tries to prove her innocence.
“Takes one to know one.”
Neil snorts. “True. Seriously though, she’s the only one with a decent motive. It’s obvious she wanted him dead.”
Kevin, who is sitting closest to them, turns to shush them aggressively. Andrew flips him off in return and Neil just rolls his eyes. Despite not caring much– or at all– for Kevin’s annoyance, Neil shuffles closer to Andrew, twisting his body to whisper more directly in his ear. It’s not exactly the most comfortable position, so Neil brings his knees up to his chest.
That works for about ten minutes before his legs start to cramp.
He groans and shifts around some more, but he can’t sit comfortably and still be close enough to whisper to Andrew, and he wouldn’t want to ruin the fun of talking during the predictable movie.
“Andrew.”
Andrew hums in acknowledgement.
“I can’t get comfy.” Neil pouts, hoping to get any reaction out of the blond.
Andrew tilts his head in Neil’s direction, a single eyebrow raised. “And that’s my problem?”
Neil fixes him with an unimpressed stare.
Then, as soon as the thought comes to mind, slowly unfolds his legs across Andrew’s lap. He holds eye contact with Andrew as he does it, searching for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t see any, but he still tilts his head in silent question.
Andrew just stares back, the only sign of emotion being the slight twitch in his jaw, and then he turns back to the movie without a word.
Neil takes that as the ‘yes’ it is and leans into Andrew. He settles into the new position and lets himself get comfortable, sliding one arm along the back of the couch behind Andrew’s shoulders. He rests his cheek against his own bicep and his other arm remains limp in his lap.
“Is this okay?” In this position, Neil’s breath blows right past Andrew’s ear as he speaks, which results in a subtle shiver from Andrew.
Instead of responding, Andrew says, “She’s going to do a big reveal speech here. You were right.”
A breath of laughter escapes Neil and he focuses his attention back on the movie. “Of course I was right.”
+1
Andrew wipes Neil’s chest and stomach with a cloth, then throws it into the hamper across the room. He rolls off the bed and starts to grab clean clothes out of the dresser.
“You’re gross, come shower.”
Neil pushes himself up on his elbows. “Together?” He asks, watching Andrew pull on a pair of plaid pyjama pants. Andrew doesn’t bother replying, just leaves the room with a shirt and a pair of boxers.
As usual, Neil knows that means ‘yes’ and probably ‘don’t ask stupid questions’, so he throws on a pair of grey sweatpants, grabs a shirt and pair of boxers like Andrew had done, and makes his way into the bathroom.
“Get in,” Andrew says as he finishes fiddling with the tap. He doesn’t wait for Neil to respond before he leaves the bathroom, but he leaves the door open, implying that he will be back.
Neil takes off his sweatpants and gets into the shower. The water is the perfect temperature because of course Andrew knows exactly how hot Neil likes his showers.
He hasn’t even started cleaning himself when he hears the bathroom door shut and lock. A moment later, the shower curtain opens as Andrew steps in, then closes it behind himself.
Without a word, Andrew grabs the shampoo bottle and raises a questioning eyebrow at Neil.
The corners of Neil’s mouth curl up into a smile. “Yes.”
Andrew pours a dollop of shampoo into his palm, then combs his fingers through Neil’s hair, massaging the scalp. Neil hums in appreciation, closes his eyes and subconsciously leans into the touch.
They’ve done this a few times before; first when Neil returned from Baltimore, another time when Neil was sick and had been too delirious to do it himself, and two other times in this same scenario. Neil loves it every time, and he thinks Andrew does too, even if he won’t admit it.
Andrew goes through the motions of washing Neil’s hair and body, and they share more than a few kisses along the way. When Andrew deems Neil ‘clean enough’, Neil offers to reciprocate the deed, but Andrew says no and sends him off with one final kiss.
Neil gets dressed in the bathroom, listening to the uneven fall of the water as Andrew washes himself, then heads back to bed. He is almost asleep by the time Andrew returns, crawling over Neil to get to his side of the bed, the side closest to the wall. Neil lets himself continue to drift until–
“Neil.” And something in his tone makes Neil’s eyes shoot open. Andrew’s hand is hovering somewhere over Neil’s waist, though it's hard to tell with the blanket covering them.
“But we just showered…?” Neil says, his expression shifting into one of confusion.
Andrew huffs and shoots Neil an unimpressed glare. “No. Just this.”
Neil’s stomach swoops and his heart does this thing that it’s only ever done with Andrew, where it somehow stops and flutters simultaneously. Andrew wants to touch him, to hold him, something close to cuddling. Andrew is asking. Searching for the thing Neil had been chasing this whole time. Andrew rarely seeks out physical affection with Neil and never in bed after sex– in the shower is different, Andrew’s memories in the shower are, for the most part, untainted.
He must take too long to answer because Andrew starts to back off, but Neil interrupts him with a quick ‘yes’. He watches Andrew’s expression carefully. To anyone else, it was blank and emotionless, maybe even cold. To Neil it was hesitant. Cautious. Neil doesn’t move or encourage him, knows Andrew has to do it himself.
Andrew’s hand against his waist is firm, falsely confident as it slowly settles. They both hold eye contact the whole time, searching each other’s expressions for any signs that this is no longer okay. Andrew swallows the lump in his throat, then he leans forward and Neil’s heart really stops. Andrew places a tender kiss above Neil’s heart and rests his forehead there.
Neil holds his breath.
This was entirely new, and it was Andrew initiating it. Before now, Neil hadn’t been sure they would get to this point for another few years, much less have Andrew be the one to ask for it.
They’re both silent for a moment before Andrew speaks up, muffled. “Breathe, Bunny.” Though, his voice sounds tight, like he too might be struggling to breathe a little.
Neil breathes, and Andrew does too.
“Can I touch you, too?”
Andrew remains quiet, going through a mental checklist to make sure that really was okay. Eventually, he says, “Just around my shoulders.”
“Are you sure? That might restrict your arms a bit.” Always double-checking.
Andrew rethinks it. He grunts and shifts, and Neil thinks he’s pulling away, but once Andrew is lying on his back, he puts a hand on the back of Neil’s head and pulls him into his chest. This close, Neil can hear the rapid thump of Andrew’s heart. Andrew keeps his hand on Neil’s head, thumb tracing small circles in his hair. Warmth floods his body.
For a boy who has been fighting to survive his whole life, Neil thinks he would embrace death if it felt at all like this. Like being held in Andrew’s arms.