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Andrew’s sitting cross legged in the shade of a tree with a cherry lollipop lolling on his tongue and gaze staring nowhere in particular. Or at least that’s the lie he tells himself.
He’s got a free period after his morning class that he used to spend napping at his dorm, but not since he noticed the dark circles and sluggishness the resident punching bag has acquired in the last few months. Good nickname, that one. Always relevant.
There’s no bell on campus, this isn’t high school (and thank god for that), but the end of class is unmistakable with the rush of students spilling out into the courtyard. It takes longer than usual for Andrew to notice Neil, not because he isn’t immediately noticeable, but because he’s moving uncharacteristically slower, slipping out of class with the last few stragglers rather than being the first one out. Once he’s outside though, ripping his eyes from him is impossible.
Andrew swallows down the cherry taste that gathered in his mouth and pops out the candy. Neil’s walking with a girl from class, which isn’t unusual. She’s about his height, which isn’t unusual either. There aren’t many things that entertain Andrew, but watching girls attempt to flirt with Neil is a particular pleasure of his.
She’s giggling and Neil smiles politely, it doesn’t reach his eyes. It rarely does, but not like this. This is tiredness that pulls and drags his bones down. The pull of gravity seems to outwin the lightness with which Neil used to walk. She seems to notice because she stops them and gently pushes Neil’s shoulder so he faces her. Neil’s eyes dart around the courtyard and are pulled to Andrew with the same magnetism Andrew feels towards him.
Neil shakes his head at whatever the girl says, but his eyes never leave Andrew’s. A few minutes later, Neil’s attempting a light jog as he makes his way towards him. Yes, a jog. He is an idiot who knows nothing about conserving energy. Andrew has already popped the lollipop back into his mouth which is why Neil’s squinting at the stick as he approaches. Andrew removes it from his mouth so Neil can see its tiny red candy top.
“You’re stubborn about this,” Neil says, it’s not admonishing, but surprised. Why is Neil surprised?
“Hello. I’m Andrew, we’ve met,” he deadpans, pulling himself up from the ground.
“Thanks,” Neil throws back just as sarcastically. “I just never expected you to last this long.”
It’s true. Andrew hasn’t had a cigarette in close to two months. After their first trip to Eden’s upon Aaron’s return from his girlfriend ’s family, he claimed Neil’s dust deal shouldn’t have concerned his dust use. So they made another deal. No dust for Aaron, no cigarettes for Andrew. Andrew wouldn’t have ever agreed to it, but Kevin’s one persuasive fucking asshole when he wants to be.
“I promised,” Andrew says and tilts his head to watch Neil’s muted eyes. He must be very tired. “Don’t worry, we can still sniff smoke if you’re feeling anxious.”
Neil rolls his eyes and pulls his messenger bag closer to his body.
“Who’s the friend?”
Neil says a name but Andrew ignores it. “She says I look tired.”
Andrew bites at whatever’s left of his lollipop and sucks on the candy parts that scatter in his mouth. He raises a hand and rubs his thumb softly under one of Neil’s eyes, resting atop his burn scar that’s healed now to a pale sheen.
“She’s not wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Neil gives him a stare that Andrew returns by taking out the now chewed up lollipop stick. He’s seconds away from poking Neil’s nose with it but that would’ve been quite disastrous. Neil raises a brow, waiting for him to do something with it and Andrew throws it onto the ground instead.
“Hey now,” Neil says softly, crouching to pick it up. When he pulls himself up, he’s slow. He’s so damn slow.
“You’re skipping calc,” Andrew says decisively.
“I don’t want to,” Neil says, so close to whining. He starts his sluggish move towards the trash cans by the benches and Andrew doesn’t follow until the stick is in the bin and Neil glances up at him expectantly. Well, fuck it all. Andrew, of course, of course , goes to him.
At the cafeteria, Nicky joins them for lunch. Andrew and Neil are never the social pair, but Nicky fills in the silence to the brim until he’s done with just about everything on his plate, pauses, and looks up at them.
“Are you two okay?”
Neil glances at Andrew with brows raised and Andrew narrows his eyes back at him.
“We’re fine,” Neil says, turning back to his food. He’s not eating, but instead doing a weird little pushing-it-all-around-with-his-fork.
Andrew wants to tell him we’re not fine. You’re not sleeping. You’re not eating. You look like your usual four minute mile is a distant, unbelievable lie. But Nicky’s mouth is larger than the Atlantic, and Andrew’s stubborn. He is. But he’s also not ready for the other Foxes to go around fixing what he wants to help with first.
“You seem off,” Nicky says, watching Neil.
“I’m a bit tired.”
Andrew can’t help himself, he parrots, “A bit.”
“Yes, a bit,” Neil says again. “I’ll sleep it off on the weekend.”
“It’s Monday, buddy,” Nicky says, unlike Andrew, he’s full of compassion and he looks it.
“He’s skipping calc to sleep,” Andrew says then.
“I’m not.”
“Yes.”
“Andrew,” Neil’s so close to snapping. Too close. Even Andrew raises a brow. Nicky raises two. Neil notices their reaction and deflates. “I don’t want to skip class.”
“Well,” Nicky tries. “When’s class?”
“At one.”
“So, sleep after class.”
This time Andrew glares at Nicky and Nicky tries a weak smile, but he doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Compromiiiise,” he says weakly.
Andrew wants to tell him to fuck off, but Neil finally pierces a whole meatball onto his fork and eats it. He chews slowly, but he chews. And swallows. He reaches for another and Andrew’s back untenses. Fine. Compromise, indeed.
----
Andrew’s outside of Neil’s calc class when it finishes a little after three.
“Did you skip class?” Neil asks as soon as Andrew’s iron grip catches his elbow.
“I went,” is all he says. Doesn’t say that he only attended half. Whatever, though. They’ve got tutors to catch them up with these things anyway, and Andrew won’t need much more than that to soak in whatever he missed.
Andrew only lets go when he’s sure Neil won’t drift away towards the court or the gym or that running path he takes on Perimeter Road, and they complete the ten minute walk to the Tower in silence.
The first thing Neil says when they enter their room is, “Sorry.” When Andrew glares at him Neil brushes it off. “I know you’re pissed at me, so I’m apologizing.”
“I don’t need your apologies.”
“Well, I want to give them.”
“The only person you’re putting through this bullshit is yourself. You’re barely standing. Apologize to yourself.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Neither do I.”
Neil sighs and drops his messenger bag on the only used desk in the dorm room. He’s looking at the mess atop it, and doesn’t raise his head. Maybe he’s not looking at anything at all.
“I can’t sleep,” he says finally. Andrew’s noticed, so he doesn’t say anything. “I’m exhausted, but I can’t do anything about it. My brain,” Neil raises his hand, curling it around his temple. “It won’t shut up.”
“You won’t like what I’m about to say,” Andrew offers finally.
“I won’t see her.”
“Because you don’t like her or because you still don’t believe in therapists.”
Neil meets his eyes briefly. “Both.”
“We can find you someone else.”
“I said both.”
“I think you’re stubborn.”
“Says you.”
“So I did.”
Neil turns around and leans back onto his desk, arms folding over his chest. “Don’t be a smartass.”
“You’re the smartass,” Andrew says, taking a step closer but they’re still talking at each other from different sides of the room. “You’re not sleeping. You’re barely eating. You’re sluggish and anxious. Deal with it.”
“Fuck off,” Neil says. It’s so weak.
“Why don’t you want to see someone? Most of your secrets can be found with one Google search. The only person you’re hurting is yourself.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why.” It’s a demand for truth, not a question.
Neil throws his hands up in a full body shrug. He stares helpless at Andrew, then runs his hands through his hair. It’s a mess, it always is. Andrew’s obsessed with it on a good day. Today’s a not-so-good day. It’s a mess because Neil is, and not in his usual charming way. Finally, Neil’s hands drop and there’s a self-deprecating smile on his beautiful face.
“How’s anyone meant to help me?” He asks finally in a pathetic voice.
Before Andrew can stop himself, he gets angry. It flares in him in the same full-body way Neil’s shrug did. Neil watches, impassive. In a distant part of his brain, Andrew hears in Neil’s voice, I want to see you lose control.
“I hate you,” Andrew says finally.
“I know,” Neil nods.
“Therapy helped me,” Andrew says. He comes closer and reaches for Neil’s warm cheek. “The only reason I can do this,” he says, palm pressing closer. “Is because therapy helped me.”
“I believe it helps people,” Neil says. “And I’m so glad it helped you. But I’m not ready to talk to a therapist. I don’t want to. It’s not for everyone and you have to respect that.”
Andrew watches him from up close. The earnest blue of his eyes, the icy fire in them.
“I hate you,” he repeats, dropping his hand. “Your bullshit is insufferable.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“It is to me.”
“You’re just being an asshole.”
Andrew gives him a glare, then digs his hand into his pocket to unwrap the lollipop in there. The orange wrapper makes him even angrier. He rips it open and balls up the wrapper to throw at Neil. It hits his forehead and falls between them.
“Wow,” Neil says, but he’s smiling a little. “I do like your tantrums, though. Very cute.”
Andrew grips the back of Neil’s neck and squeezes in warning. He lets go and slips the lollipop into his mouth. The orange taste isn’t his favorite by a longshot, but it’ll do for its purpose.
“So, no therapy,” he says with the candy between his teeth, pressed into his cheek.
“No.”
“Let’s talk then,” Andrew says, making Neil blink at him in surprise. Andrew flicks his forehead softly. “What’s in your head?”
Neil opens his mouth and can’t quite come up with words.
“Say whatever’s on your mind. Don’t think. Just talk.”
Neil swallows. Andrew spins and sucks on his lollipop. His eyes are on Neil, but Neil’s eyes are on some distant spot on the floor.
“You,” Neil says first. “Math. Midterms. Exy. Upcoming season. Jack. Sheena. Next month’s games. All of the games,” he winces when he approaches the center of the issue. “Ichirou,” he says quietly.
“He’s not interested in you until you graduate,” Andrew picks up the thread quickly because the line between Neil’s brows is deepening.
“Nobody will be interested in me unless I play well.”
“You’ll play well. You always do,” Andrew says matter-of-factly. “What a useless thing to worry about. And if Jack and Sheena are bothering you, I have knives.”
“Don’t stab our teammates,” Neil says, finally meeting Andrew’s eyes. “What if we can’t connect as a team? If we lose and lose. If we don’t get to championships. If we-”
“All of this is your junkie brain talking,” Andrew cuts him off, taking out his lollipop. “That’s your personal greed talking. You want to win. You’re a fighter and you want another trophy. That’s all irrelevant to Ichirou. Ichirou won’t care if the Foxes suck as long as you’re scoring. The professional teams that sign you don’t care about the Foxes, they care about your stats and the fact that it takes you three seconds to cross the court. Don’t make your anxieties more complicated than they are. You are fine and in the actual definition of the word.”
Neil narrows his eyes and looks seconds away from rolling them
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were going to.”
Neil sighs. “You’re making it too simple.”
“It is simple.”
“It’s not ,” Neil snaps again and Andrew raises both brows, lollipop coming back into his mouth, tucked snugly into his cheek. “Shut up.”
Andrew mimics the zipping of his mouth.
“I know I’m tired, I’m not stupid.”
Andrew nods sagely.
Neil gives him a soft shove. “You’re pissing me off.”
“You’re pissing me off.”
“Great. We’re doing so well.”
“Don’t turn this into something it’s not. We’re not arguing. You’re being stupid and you’re here to listen. You need to sleep because you’re sluggish and your performance will start slipping everywhere. In your games, in your classes, in your friendships with those Foxes, and your leadership. You won’t move anywhere if you don’t rest . Be reasonable about this. If your performance slips, that’s when everything else becomes a problem.”
Neil’s face twists and Andrew knows he hit a nerve. “Thanks, Andrew. You know what? That really helps with the anxiety. In fact, I’m cured!” Neil sidesteps him and goes into the bedroom. “Good night.” He slams the door, leaving Andrew alone in the living room. Andrew sighs and twists the lollipop in his mouth until the orange starts tasting worse than it usually does.
After a minute, he detours to the kitchen to throw the rest of the lollipop away and knocks softly once before entering their bedroom.
Neil’s planted face down into the pillow. He doesn’t turn to face Andrew when he enters and not when Andrew sits on his mattress.
“Neil,” Andrew says and waits. When Neil doesn’t turn, he continues, “Who was throwing the tantrum again?”
“I’m trying to sleep.”
“You won’t be able to sleep,” Andrew points out and squeezes the back of Neil’s leg, the tight muscles there. His whole body is too rigid to even dream of sleeping. There’s only one thing Neil wants to do right now. “You want to run.”
Neil groans and twists onto his back, his legs not quite following.
“What, Andrew? I don’t understand.”
“That’s not surprising.” Neil stares back, unamused. “What don’t you understand?”
“My thoughts. My feelings. My—” He takes hold of the front of his shirt and squeezes, tight. “Anxiety,” he says, reluctantly and then adds. “Will you try and accept that I don’t want to talk to anyone else? I just want to talk to you.”
Andrew watches him from above, then slides his hand up his leg and sinks his fingers under Neil's shirt. Neil’s skin is warm and it burns Andrew’s fingers. With the way Neil shivers, his own hands must possess their usual chill.
“Talk, then.”
Neil’s mouth hangs open. Andrew waits. Goes from squeezing lightly at Neil’s waist to rubbing his thumb on the scar his fingers landed on, the small bump of it. There’s a streak of sun that cuts Neil’s face in half, narrowly avoiding his eyes, dark in the shade of the upper bunk.
“Sometimes…” Neil starts finally. His eyes won’t meet Andrew’s but Andrew looks at them anyway. “You know everything happened only a few months ago?” He seems to change trajectories, but at least he’s looking up at Andrew now. “Sometimes I find a scab on my body, and I don’t remember where it came from. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve looked at myself in the mirror. I want to check my binder, every day. If I don’t concentrate on my run, I end up on the edge of campus without knowing. I can’t sleep, because I hear her voice. I can’t— I can’t stand the dreams. In some of them, my father gets to me and I can’t stand. Can’t walk, can’t run. I wake up with my legs trembling and that’s the only reason I know they still work. It’s never ending. I hear a loud man’s voice and I’m eight years old again. I hear a police siren and I’m back in that car. Sometimes it feels like even the heat of the sun is unbearable. I can feel each and every burn again and again. I haven’t… I don’t even know what my new face looks like.”
It’s a long tirade of quiet words, near-whispered in the silent room. Andrew watches him the whole time even as Neil’s eyes dart up and down from his face. Through his spiel, Neil’s hand had come down to lay slowly on Andrew’s, his shirt a thin layer between their hands. Andrew takes it all in and doesn’t move.
“I’ve never been bad at sleeping,” Neil continues. “In the scariest moments of my life, I could lay down and take a nap. But. It’s a different terror now, a bit. I’ve got the Foxes now. I’ve got a future. I’ve got you. All of you, I can’t let you down. So, it just feels a bit heavy when I’m in bed at night. I was so close to losing it all.”
“You could use the help,” Andrew says because as already established, he’s stubborn. As much as they talk, there are people much better equipped at helping Neil.
Neil meets Andrew’s eyes, the sun ray has moved slightly and it’s just minutes away from the edge of Neil’s left eye. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s not snapping back.
“Sleep for me… Always meant that it was over,” Andrew says when the silence stretches too long. Neil’s eyes take a different light when he says it. It’s not a pitying look, but it’s one that’s so undeniably on Andrew’s side, making it clear Neil would do anything for him in that moment. It’s such a potent glare. “It’s different now. The dreams stick around, they always do, and I’ll never like them. But I am not afraid of them. First thing I do when I wake up is think about my family who’s making holiday plans with me. Kevin’s queen tattoo. And you,” he adds, the softness in his voice doesn’t feel like himself. “You’re going to carry reminders for the rest of your life, that’s just what we’ve been sentenced with. But you’re okay now. You will be okay. That’s the truth you’re currently living in.”
“Sunrise, Abram, Death,” Neil mutters.
“Don’t worry about the third,” Andrew brushes it off. The quick way Andrew dismisses it has Neil’s head tilting as he connects two points, away from the sun ray that was about to hit his eye.
“Why did you pick up the bet?”
“Because I hate when Aaron’s right.”
“That’s true,” Neil licks his lips and his hand slides up Andrew's forearm, fingers hooking on Andrew’s elbow. “Are you scared of cigarettes?”
Andrew squeezes Neil’s waist. “I am most definitely not scared of cigarettes.”
“You found things worth living for,” Neil’s smile blooms slowly on his face, lighting him all up. “So you gave up on killing yourself slowly.”
“I didn’t smoke to kill myself.”
“Right. You smoked because it makes you look so, so cool.”
“Finally, he gets it.”
Neil lets go of Andrew’s elbow, hand coming up to rest in Andrew’s hair. Andrew leans over for easier access. It’s a thoughtless, easy move.
“I never thought I’d be this happy,” Neil says in the space between them. “When I think about it, it’s stupid how happy I feel. Me. Out of all people. I think that’s what makes everything else so much scarier. I don’t want to lose it,” Neil’s hand squeezes in his hair. “I don’t want to lose a single minute of it.”
“You need to sleep.”
“I don’t know how to slow my heart enough for it. Or my brain.”
“Breathe.” Andrew’s hand travels up Neil’s torso towards his heart, pulling up the shirt. Neil’s stomach tucks in with a shallow breath. Neil, for what it’s worth, isn’t lying. His heart is beating quickly like a rabbit. “Come on, with me.” Andrew takes a deep breath counting to five in his head and lets it out for as many seconds. Neil keeps his gaze through five more breaths. His heart slows, just a little. When Andrew narrows his eyes at him, Neil smiles.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Andrew says. He leans closer until their noses are brushing. The kiss that follows is soft, then harder. Neil’s hand in his hair tightens and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.
“You’re everything to me,” Neil whispers against his lips. “Thank you.”
“Fuck off, immediately,” Andrew grunts, but his other hand is grabbing the back of Neil’s neck and pulling him closer.
The kiss doesn’t go anywhere further. Small, unhurried kisses are their specialty. Breathing each other’s air is a nice little bonus.
“I’ll try. I promise,” Neil whispers between kisses. “Can we try now?”
Andrew lets out another grunt but separates from Neil to flip him onto his side and curl around his back. He couldn’t actually sleep like that, he’s not sure if Neil would be able to either. They barely touch when they share a bed in Columbia and it might take months or years until they’re able to. For a few minutes, though, it’s okay. Andrew’s palm rests on Neil’s warm stomach and his nose presses into the back of his neck.
There’s a charming smell to Neil on days he’s not wearing the cologne Matt got him (which is almost never) that’s impossible to pinpoint. But it’s a delicious smell that Andrew inhales discreetly before kissing his nape.
If he pauses and thinks about it, he’s not sure how he got here. One year ago today Neil was a jumpy rabbit, scared of his own shadow. The fake eyes, the suspicious hair, the unbelievable story. He was so, so interesting. Whatever Andrew could guess about him then was not at all the truth that came to light as the year went on, but the man under his palm now, by his mouth, the auburn hair that takes over his vision. Andrew can’t deny that this is the person he knows best in the world. Wants to keep knowing.
Andrew never knew he could want things this much. That he could have the things he wants. It sets his heart racing in a way that makes him understand everything Neil is worried about.
Under his palm, Neil’s breaths grow slower. Andrew lifts up on his elbow to glance at his face and it’s slack with sleep. That was quick. The sun ray has reached the thick gap in the shades and paints Neil’s face with a bright streak that shimmers the fresh scar tissue and highlights the few stray freckles he caught over the summer. He’s relaxed, melted into his pillow in a soft, ruffled heap. Andrew could watch him like this forever. It’s a ridiculous notion, but it’s just another truth.
They’re full of truths, aren’t they? Collecting them in their pockets and keeping them close. A world of truths.
Andrew hates him. So, so much.
He drops onto his pillow and leans close to leave another kiss on Neil’s nape. Neil shivers. And sighs. Andrew closes his eyes and thinks of a life of happy tomorrows.