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“Do you have a crush on someone?”
Andrew has known Neil for a long time now. They started as two lone forces on the grade school playground, only crossing paths when Andrew turned a corner and found three bullies surrounding Neil. Neil was small but spritely, and when he spotted him, he said, “Wanna see something cool?”
Neil insists he didn’t say that and didn’t proceed to dropkick a kid before mouthing off at him to pick on someone his own size because his dad would have killed him if he’d gotten a call from the school about it, but Andrew remembers it clearly. It was extremely funny and effective in getting rid of his harassers, and Neil spent several weeks teaching Andrew how to do it before they were caught and made to stop.
Their friendship had been cemented by then, and in the ten years Andrew has known Neil, he’s picked up some facts: Neil genuinely can’t help his shitty attitude when he finds a situation unfair, though he’s getting better at thinking about the consequences before he acts. Neil doesn’t like to lie but he often does when he feels he has to, which is why Matt is never getting his soft sweatshirt back despite knowing Neil has it. Neil is otherwise too honest, spilling his secrets in Andrew’s lap without much resistance. He’s also too curious for his own good, in a way that often lacks tact—like right now, which is annoying.
Andrew draws his eyes down to Neil’s feet. He’s gently drawing circles in the water next to him, way too calm for Andrew’s liking. This demeanour is Neil too these days—domesticated, at peace, eye before the storm, completely unfazed. This is Andrew’s own fault, he decides; he’s let Neil get away with too much over the years and now he’s comfortable asking questions others know not to.
Neil leans forward and cocks an eyebrow at Andrew. He’s taken too long to answer, which he knows Neil will interpret as an admission. Andrew considers his options: He can satiate Neil’s curiosity and squash this conversation, or he can pull Neil from the ledge of the pool so he hits his head on the way down, inducing a concussion, and hopefully making him forget he even asked.
If the answer wasn’t staring him in the face with a too-interested look, this would be easier to brush off.
Andrew doesn’t drown him. He does splash a big wave of water at Neil, who tries to retaliate with a kick. Andrew anticipates this and grabs each of Neil’s ankles in time, and pins them to the pool wall. Neil doesn’t resist, too busy staring Andrew down and trying to intimidate him into talking. Andrew stares right back, undeterred. He squeezes Neil’s ankles and then lets go after a minute, satisfied when Neil relaxes.
“I know you’re taught in school that there are no stupid questions,” Andrew says, splaying his wet hand over Neil’s dry knee. Neil gives him a displeased look. “But all your questions are stupid.”
Neil snorts at that, and then he lifts his hand in front of Andrew, telegraphing his movements. Andrew twines their fingers together. Neil probably means to push him away but Andrew doesn’t budge—they’re at the shallow end of the pool. Andrew shakes his head at Neil’s weak attempt to topple him and pushes towards Neil.
Neil takes advantage and pulls him along, and Andrew tries not to think too hard about Neil’s knees parting so he can fit between them. He carefully sets his hands on either side of Neil and gives him the flattest look he can muster. Neil puckers his lips in thought and speaks before Andrew even needs to ask.
“Roland brought it up,” he says.
Andrew grimaces, disgusted at this revelation. Roland is unfortunately one of the few people who encounter Andrew and aren’t immediately and completely turned off by his prickly personality. Roland likes to talk to Andrew at school, and on occasion, Andrew will respond. As far as Andrew knows, neither Roland nor Neil run in the same social circles, so there is no reason for them to talk. He’d prefer it if they didn’t.
“He came up to me yesterday and asked if you were pining for anyone,” Neil continues. “He didn’t want to ask you directly because you’d tell him to piss off, so I asked him why he thought I’d tell him.”
“Curious,” Andrew agrees. But it’s pointless to ask Neil these kinds of questions because he had no interest in it before it was brought to his attention, and even he could tell it’s a useless pursuit, to pine after Andrew—but that, he’ll let Roland discover on his own. “Next time, send him to me.”
“Would you have told him?”
Andrew gives him a look that says that’s another stupid question. Casually, he says, “Might’ve stabbed him.”
“That’s what I told him. Then he said maybe I didn’t know, and I said ‘Screw you—of course, I know.” Neil tilts his head like Andrew does sometimes when he’s being a little shit. “Are you going to make me a liar, Andrew?”
Andrew rolls his eyes so far back into his head. He hates how amused he is by Neil’s stupid little stunt. He splashes water at Neil again. “You make yourself a liar.”
“Maybe so,” Neil says, grinning.
Andrew takes a step back as Neil pushes himself off the edge and sinks into the pool. When he breaks the surface, he shakes his hair. Andrew shoves him away with an annoyed expletive. Neil grins at him. “Are you going to tell me who you like or keep avoiding the question?”
“The question was if, not who.” Andrew makes his way to the stairs to climb out of the pool and retrieve his towel. He picks up Neil’s too when he hears him pull himself up and out of the pool. Andrew wads up the towel and throws it at him. “And yes.”
Neil narrows his eyes at Andrew and honestly, he should have known his admission would stoke the fire instead of quell it. But before Neil can say anything, Andrew covers his mouth. He can feel Neil’s lips across his palm—they’re chapped. “No follow-ups—that was your only free question for the year.”
Andrew takes his hand away and doesn’t even get a second of peace. Neil asks, “What’ll it take to know?”
Andrew shrugs one shoulder. “What’ll you give for it?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t ‘anything’ something stupid like this,” Andrew says, scowling.
Predictably, Neil returns, “I’ll do what I want. Tell me so I can judge you.”
The thing, right, about having known Neil Josten for ten years now is that Andrew has traded, collected and committed to memory most facts about him. He would exchange a truth for a truth, but the only answer he wants right now, he already has—Neil doesn’t get crushes, never really has, so Andrew won’t waste his open ticket on asking who Neil might like too.
“I’ll cash it in later.”
“Sure,” Neil says easily. He wraps his towel around his shoulders. “You also—you don’t have to tell me. We can trade something else.”
Neil is so annoying, Andrew thinks, for giving him an out when that’s not how this game works. He’s going to bite the bullet because he’s already said yes. He figures, too, that admitting to his crush out loud might be a good way to exorcise it from his body. Later, he can tell the school counsellor that he practiced ‘not bottling things in’.
Besides, it’s just Neil. He may judge him like he promised but—it’s just Neil.
Andrew taps a finger twice against Neil’s stomach. Neil shivers, not expecting the touch, although Andrew suspects he’s chilled from the night wind. They should have had this conversation inside.
Andrew puts his hands on Neil’s waist and forces him to turn around so they can march back towards the house.
“I’ll give you a hint,” he says. He rolls his eyes and turns Neil to face the house again when he tries to look at Andrew for the hint. “I hate him the most in the world.”
Neil stops at the threshold just before they cross it to turn towards Andrew. “Me.”
Andrew is grateful for the old t-shirt he borrowed to cover his chest, because the flush creeping across his body is sudden. It is embarrassing how quickly and confidently Neil answered, but more embarrassing that he guessed himself first.
Andrew manages a cool, “That’s bold,” which is not a denial.
Neil blinks slowly then says again, “Me?” This time, it’s a question, and Neil’s whole face transforms with it. His mouth falls into an ‘o’ as Andrew watches him process this in real time. “This is you confessing to me?”
“Don’t make this weird,” Andrew says flatly.
Neil sobers up, serious now. “It’s not weird,” he says. “At all.”
Andrew grunts and shoves at Neil, and Neil finally enters the house. Neil takes Andrew’s wet pool towel and heads towards the mud room while Andrew takes the stairs to Neil’s bedroom. He borrows a fresh towel and showers in the ensuite bathroom with the water at the hottest setting he can tolerate.
When he enters the bedroom, his clothes are neatly folded on the bed. The shower is running in the guest bedroom down the hall. Andrew changes and waits for Neil downstairs.
“Heading home?” Neil asks once he’s joined him. He’s frowning at Andrew’s leather jacket, but recovers when Andrew nods. He leads him to the front door.
“Okay.” Neil flips up both of his palms and waits expectantly. Andrew puts one of his hands in Neil’s, and Neil gently squeezes. He does that. He started doing that when they were younger. Andrew is getting better about being touched unexpectedly, but he takes freely from Neil because Neil gives without pushing. Andrew takes his hand back when Neil lets go. Neil says, “Good night.”
Andrew mumbles back a good night, and when he drives away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t know, really, what Neil thinks about his confession. Andrew decides it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.
-
Well, Andrew can admit that it matters a little bit. A smidge, if you will. Rejection is part of life and he can’t spend all of his time feeling sorry for himself, so he’ll get over it, but—right now, it sort of feels like shit.
Despite his shit mood, the first few periods go by as normal. Andrew doesn’t see Neil, which is fine and usual since they’re in different grades, though he anticipates seeing him soon since Neil has to pass by his stretch of the senior hallway to get to one of his classes. God, he hopes it isn’t awkward. Andrew isn’t used to there being awkwardness between him and Neil and suspects he won’t do well with it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew spots Roland turn into the hallway. Andrew faces him and stares intensely as he tracks his progress. It is enough to get Roland’s attention because he notices, smiles at Andrew like he’s an old friend instead of the mildly irritating catalyst for the version of his life Andrew is living, and changes course to stop by his locker.
Andrew lets Roland come to him until he’s halted right by his locker door. Roland says, “Hey, And—”
Andrew kicks him. Roland folds over with an unhappy, “Ouch, ouch, ouch,” and brings his leg up to cradle it where he’s in pain, leaning heavily on the unoccupied lockers. “What was that for?”
“Stop talking to Neil,” Andrew tells him.
Roland recovers enough to peer up at Andrew, looking far too amused for someone who’s just been assaulted.
“Yup, should’ve seen that coming.” Roland shakes his leg out and stands at his full height, then casually leans against the wall. He crosses his arms across his chest and gives Andrew a stupid grin. “What did he say?”
“‘Yes, I’ll never speak to him again.’ That’s what I want to hear.”
Roland laughs, unbothered by the murderous look Andrew gives him. “I imagine it was a weird conversation for you if you’re going around kicking people at random.”
“Just you,” Andrew assures him, which makes Roland laugh again. Andrew fists his hand in Roland’s shirt—a threat, but Roland only hums. “I was doing recon. Can you blame me? But I was effectively warned off. I won’t ask any more invasive questions to see if it’s okay to flirt with you.” Roland pops off the lockers and steps out of Andrew’s loose grip, and before Andrew can demand he explain himself, he says, “Starting now. Bye,” then sails down the hallway.
A second later, Neil appears from behind Andrew and takes Roland’s place. He’s distracted, looking at Roland as he walks away, and Andrew decides the way his stomach clenches upon seeing Neil again isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
Roland must have finally disappeared because Neil looks Andrew up and down.
“That looked tense.”
Andrew turns to his locker and takes out his chemistry textbook. “Just annoying,” he says. He points at Neil and flicks his nose, earning him a grimace. “Much like you.”
“That’s very kind of you to say before noon.”
“You’re welcome.”
Neil smiles with all his teeth, and Andrew grimaces just to be contrary. Neil laughs. Andrew tamps down the satisfaction of Neil genuinely finding him funny with a flat, “You look terrible.”
Truthfully, Neil looks about the same as he always does in his loose sweater and jeans, but there’s something off about him now—there’s tightness around his eyes, and something about his stance that’s too relaxed.
“Ugh. I ran into Betsy—don’t laugh.” Andrew didn’t laugh but he did release a long snort.
Neil’s aversion to the school counsellor is as funny as it is problematic because Andrew is sure Neil would benefit from her services since she’s quite the comedian and a great conversationalist. Another part of Andrew can sort of understand—she’s curious about everyone at all times, so a hello from her can probably turn into how’s everything at home? Must be harrowing for Neil, who is notoriously allergic to telling people how he’s feeling.
“Still feeling the aftershocks of her asking you how you’re doing?”
“I walked really fast and pretended not to hear her.”
Andrew is so amused by Neil’s revelation, he lets a small smile break through. “You didn’t even talk to her and you’re pathetic like this.”
“Just being near her is stressful—shut up and give me your book,” Neil demands with no bite. Andrew hands it to him. “Now walk me to class.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Andrew says, closing his locker door and resetting the lock before he falls into step with Neil, “I’m not walking you to class, I’m just already going this way.”
-
Things are normal after that. Andrew still spends most of his evenings at Neil’s house when Neil’s parents are away on business, and they don’t bring up Andrew’s clumsy confession. His crush does not go away—in fact, it gets worse, but that’s fine. It’s fine. Things aren’t awkward like he was afraid they would be. Tonight, they’re at Andrew’s waiting for Kevin so they can watch a movie no one in the group has yet agreed on.
Andrew presses his socked foot against Neil’s thigh and wishes, briefly, that Neil wouldn’t favour shorts and Andrew would be free from the torture of wanting to touch him. “You got quiet.”
Neil twists a little towards Andrew but doesn’t look away from his phone or stop typing, so Andrew knows he heard him. Andrew brings his other foot and presses down again. Neil says, “Hold on, I’m arguing with Kevin.”
Andrew shifts so he’s seated properly, and leans in obnoxiously close to peek at Neil’s phone. Neil opens up his arms so Andrew can lean against him comfortably and they can both see his screen. Neil is suggesting they watch Final Destination since Kevin hasn’t seen it yet and Neil loves it. Kevin immediately vetoes that because he’s annoying and does not want to be worried that everyday things like tires will come flying at high velocity and kill him. Andrew’s body vibrates with the low whine Neil lets out as he types out that does not happen in the first movie have u been watching them WITHOUT me?
“Typical,” Andrew says dryly, driving his elbow into Neil’s ribs. “You’d rather pay him more attention than me.”
Neil squishes his cheek against the top of Andrew’s head while trying to swipe his arm away, as if to tell him to stop his assault on his ribs. Andrew thinks the casual and easy way Neil is affectionate with him is good revenge, even if that’s not what Neil is going for. Andrew takes his turn and reaches up to tangle his fingers in Neil’s curls and tug. Neil says “ow” without much feeling and closes his eyes, then hums. It shakes all of Andrew’s insides to see Neil so relaxed, seemingly basking in Andrew’s touch.
“You’re being a drama queen,” Neil accuses. He whispers it right into Andrew’s ear. Andrew can’t help the full body shiver that runs through him. Right. Well. Andrew can’t do this. He slides his hand out of Neil’s hair and clenches it by his side. He says, “Get off,” sharp, and Neil doesn’t hesitate to untangle himself and back away from Andrew.
The doorbell rings. Neil slides off the couch to get the door. Andrew is thankful because it distracts Neil from asking him if he’s all right and saves him from having to answer that.
Andrew hates how aware he is of his stupid little crush. He wants it to die a swift death, but the chances of that aren’t very good. Andrew doesn’t spend his time smothering his emotions but he certainly doesn’t like to process them when he’s in the midst of having them around other people.
Andrew walks the opposite direction into the kitchen instead of towards the door, where Neil is letting in the missing guest. By the smell of things, Aaron didn’t burn the first batch of popcorn he made. When Andrew steps up next to him, he gives Andrew a suspicious glance. Andrew gives him a warning look back, and Aaron narrows his eyes at him, bristling. Andrew steals from the bowl of popcorn he’s pouring.
“Knock it off,” Aaron orders, jerking the bowl and bag away from Andrew. He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “We have limited supply so this is only for the movie. Stop being greedy.”
“No.”
“Why are you guys already fighting?” Kevin asks.
Neil side-eyes Kevin on his way back to the couch, which is correct because Andrew just saw them arguing about movie choices.
“We are not fighting,” Aaron informs them. But he sounds distracted, his eyes on Kevin, crouched down untying his tennis shoes in shorts that ride up his thighs. A wave of anger surges through Andrew at the stupid, infatuated look on his brother’s face, one he recognizes and despises on his own, and flexes his fingers because it’s all he can do not to whack the bowl of popcorn out of Aaron’s hand. Bee would be proud of him.
Kevin makes an unconvinced noise but doesn’t press; instead, he picks up his argument with Neil. Andrew takes advantage of Aaron’s distraction to steal more popcorn. He pops a kernel into his mouth to rub in his success.
“Stop.” Aaron moves the bowl away from Andrew. He lowers his voice to say, “Get away from me and go make out with your crush—oh, wait.” Before Aaron can finish his insult, Andrew smacks the edge of the bowl. Aaron startles and popcorn topples over, but he manages to save most of it. “Fuck off,” he snaps, which is leagues better than whatever he was about to say.
In a rare bid for kindness, Andrew will fuck off. He trudges past Aaron and the couch to the doorway, where he grabs his jacket and steps outside. He’s bitter about not stuffing his feet in his shoes, but stopping to lace up his boots would have ruined his exit.
Andrew’s just settled himself on the railing this side of the door with a lit cigarette in his hahd when the door creaks open. He should have known he’d be followed.
Neil pokes his head to the other side of the door when he doesn’t spot Andrew by the porch light.
“Hey,” he says casually. “You good?”
Andrew looks back at him from over his shoulder and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Neil is haloed by the lamp. Wisps of his hair burn more orange than they ever do in natural light. Andrew, even before he’d taken notice of his accursed crush, has always thought Neil effortlessly pretty despite his gremlin-like personality. It should cancel it out, but it doesn’t, which is annoying.
Andrew grunts a yes and Neil takes that as permission to stick around. He closes the door and puts his hands on the railing, gripping it and leaning his weight back as far as his arms allow. He pulls himself back upright to toss one of his ratty sneakers off and towards Andrew.
“Take it,” he says.
Andrew says, “No,” on instinct, but does shove his foot in the shoe. It does a whole lot of nothing for either of them, but Neil hums happily anyway.
“Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.” It’s the truth. Andrew can’t be mad at Neil for feeling how he feels any more than he can help how he feels. “I’m grumpy.”
Neil accepts that easily. It doesn’t escape Andrew’s notice that he’d offered him his shoe without knowing if he was mad at him or not.
Neil presses their shoulders together as he leans against the railing like Andrew and Andrew lets him. Then he flips his hand up, an offer. Andrew stares. He should reject it for his peace of mind. He doesn’t. He claps his hand into Neil’s and Neil hums his satisfaction at the driveway.
-
Since Andrew was, until now, the only one in the convenience store and is actively avoiding doing any stock up, he debates the merits of starting to avoid Neil.
Cons: Andrew would miss Neil. Neil would be sad and very loud about it, parading his frown around wherever he can or sending Aaron to make periodic updates on his wellbeing.
Pros: It would give him time to wrangle his feelings and shove them down far enough they can never resurface, and Andrew can go back to tolerating Neil’s presence without measuring the softness of his skin or imagining his own possessive hand around his waist.
He thought about this for exactly two minutes before the door chimed and in walked a teenager with bright pink hair wearing a lavender top and dark purple jeans. Andrew has his fair share of regular and new customers, and he’s pretty good at recognizing people he bumps into in the surrounding area, but he’s never seen him around before—surely, he would have remembered such loud clothing. Andrew wouldn’t normally pay him any mind but the kid is walking very, very slowly around the store and very purposefully avoiding Andrew’s gaze.
Andrew only tears his eyes away when his phone vibrates on the counter. He takes it out of his pocket and clicks into his text thread with Neil.
Neil: How’s work?”
It would be very easy to ignore the inquiry. Neil might not even get immediately suspicious if he doesn’t answer right away or at all tonight. Andrew would have taken that into consideration if he hadn’t already typed up his reply. Maybe he can start tomorrow. He hits send.
Andrew: Very boring.
Andrew: Actually there’s a kid in a head-to-toe purple outfit walking around suspiciously.
Andrew flicks his eyes up at the kid and finds the kid looking at him already. He startles and looks away, pretending to look through the assortment of gum on that side of the aisle. Andrew sighs.
Andrew: He looks like he wants to steal something. I will let him walk right out with it. Should I tell him? I will.
Neil: First rule of fight club is no telling the customer they can steal because the cameras have mics, andrew
Andrew: It certainly is not.
Neil: In ur version it is. i checked
Andrew: Narc.
Neil: I’m not a snitch
Andrew: Grade 4.
Neil: Stop u literally kept stealing only my erasers. I had enough!
Andrew: Lmao
Andrew: How boring is your night?
Neil: Very boring
Neil: Can I come see you
Andrew: Don’t bother if you won’t be as entertainingly suspicious as this guy.
Neil: Lmao i make something work
Neil: See u in 15
-
“Ugh,” Andrew intones when he sees Neil walk through the door. That earns him an amused grin and a shrug that says what can you do?, as if Neil hadn’t decided to show up and can decide to un-show-up. “You’re here to torment me.”
“At your request.” Neil takes his phone out of his pocket and shakes it side to side, as if to recall their text conversation. Andrew hums and smoothes his thumb over the price sticker he was installing on the iPhone charging cables.
“You misunderstood. I did not want you to come,” Andrew says casually.
“Oh, really?” Neil shoves his hands into his pocket again and pivots on his heel. Before he can even take a step away, Andrew lunges and reaches for the bottom of Neil’s jacket, pulling him backwards. Neil lets himself be brought to Andrew’s side and obediently sits in front of the fridges when Andrew pulls a second stool over.
“Shut up,” Andrew grumbles before Neil can say anything annoying. Neil still snickers at Andrew’s dramatics, but they both know he’d wanted him around. “You know you’re not being paid for this?”
Picking up a stack of blue Gatorade, Neil rolls his eyes. “You say that every time but you still put me to work.”
“You never go on strike.”
“My union rep says there’s no point.” Neil flicks the plastic wrap in Andrew’s direction. Andrew just glares at him and Neil grins widely.
When they finish stocking, they return to the register, Andrew behind it and Neil in front. He points to his bag stashed in the corner and Andrew hands it to him. From it, Neil pulls two tupperware containers and slides one to Andrew.
“I almost forgot I made dinner. Might be a little cold now.”
Something stirs in Andrew. He thinks it might be anger at the attention Neil pays, because he knows if anyone’s skipping dinner, it’s Andrew. Neil came to hang out with him at his boring job and brought him a meal. This crush is not going away if Andrew keeps letting him get away with things like this, knowing it can never be more than this.
Andrew takes the fork Neil offers him and watches him rummage through his bag for another one. He looks at the tupperware for a long moment then opens it to reveal a rice and ground beef dish.
“Not a veggie in sight,” Andrew says.
Neil pops the ‘p’ when he says, “Nope.” He doesn’t protest the accusation because they both know Neil is spiritually allergic to legumes—to variety, which is all Andrew cares about. Neil’s food is good, so Andrew won’t complain any more.
After dinner, Andrew decides he’ll mop the floor while Neil roams the aisles for candies he wants to try.
“Put the jawbreaker back,” Andrew instructs him. “Do you know how long it’ll take you to finish that?”
“I’ve never had one,” Neil says defensively. He points to the hard ball of candy in front of him and Andrew nods. Neil tosses up once and catches it again. “I’ll save it for lat—”
Andrew hears it before he sees it. Neil skids against the wet floor and tries to catch himself on the chips shelf, but there’s a crash and a thud that suggest Neil failed to find his balance.
Unhurried, Andrew makes his way to the top of the snacks from the fridges to find Neil looking up at him from the ground.
“I’m fine,” he says, giving him a thumbs up.
“I didn’t ask.” Andrew leans his mop against the nearest shelf and walks to Neil, shaking his at Neil’s downtrodden shoes. They’re the same ratty ones he’d shared with him the other day. “Your shoes will kill you.”
“Nah—this was just a freak accident. They are otherwise very reliable.”
“I extremely doubt it.”
Neil lifts his hand up and shakes it at Andrew, and Andrew does help him up to stand. Neil skids again once upright. Andrew grabs him by the waist and Neil holds on to him by the shoulder. Stupidly, he grins at Andrew and says, “Can you help me get over there?”
Andrew gives Neil a flat look, which Neil unfortunately rebuffs by pointing to the counter, where the floor is indeed more dry. Andrew lifts and carries him over, and Neil is way too pleased by that.
“Thanks,” he says, so Andrew flicks his nose. “Ow—aren’t I injured enough?”
“No,” Andrew says casually.
Neil points to his nose and says, “Kiss it better.”
Andrew narrows his eyes at him. “You wish.”
“Yes,” Neil says seriously. “What are you waiting for?”
Andrew doesn’t think he can narrow his eyes any more than he already is, but he tries anyway. “What?”
“What,” Neil parrots back.
“You want to kiss.”
“You,” he confirms. “Can I?”
“Why?”
“Is it not normal to kiss the guy you’re dating?”
“The guy you’re dating.” Andrew wonders if he’s been pulled into some parallel universe where this should make sense. “When did we start dating?”
Neil opens and closes his mouth, then frowns, his eyebrows drawing together. “When you asked me out?”
“When.”
“By the pool,” Neil says. Andrew drops his face in his hands and exhales deeply. “Was that not you asking me out? Did I misread this whole thing?”
“No,” Andrew says miserably. “For once, I’m the stupid one. For not assuming you’d be the stupid one.”
“I understand that you’re calling me stupid but I’m not sure why.”
“For just assuming that we’re dating when neither of us have said ‘we are dating now’.”
“You said not to make it weird.”
“Yes, meaning don’t make it weird for our friendship.”
“Huh. I thought you meant don’t be weird about us dating now.”
“Stop talking,” Andrew says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re pissing me off. You want to kiss me.”
“Yes,” Neil says with a nod. More softly, he says, “Did you change your mind?”
Andrew says, “I hate you so much.”
“You keep saying that.” Neil wags a mocking finger. “But here you are.”
Andrew peers at Neil and stares for a long time. He wants to throw him across the wet floors like a bowling ball or squeeze him tight like he’s one of those stress-relief pillows. It is unbelievable yet completely fitting that all his time pining culminates to a stupid moment like this. Andrew would laugh if he wasn’t so annoyed with Neil. Something in Andrew releases, though—relief, maybe—so he holds on to that. ”I’m not kissing you in the store.”
“OK,” Neil agrees easily. “Kiss me later.”
Andrew grimaces at him for saying that out loud but—since he knows he can now, he will.