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Eden’s Twilight pulsed with life. The music thrummed through the walls, neon lights casting a hazy glow over the bodies packed together on the dance floor. It was a Friday night, which meant the Foxes—especially the Monsters—had claimed their usual corner, drinking and laughing with reckless abandon.
Andrew Minyard sat with his usual blank expression, half-listening to Kevin rant about Exy technique while Aaron rolled his eyes. Neil Josten, perched beside Andrew, nursed his drink, more focused on the warmth of Andrew’s thigh pressing against his than anything else.
It had been a good night. A rare one. No fights, no threats, no blood—just the quiet chaos of their team unwinding after a long week.
“Need another drink?” Neil asked, tilting his head toward Andrew.
Andrew flicked his eyes toward Neil, considering, then gave a small nod. “You’re coming with me.”
It wasn’t a request.
Neil didn’t argue.
Together, they wove through the crowd toward the bar. The press of bodies was thick, but Andrew moved like a blade cutting through water, and Neil followed in his wake. When they reached the counter, Neil leaned against it, waiting for the bartender’s attention.
That’s when he felt it.
A pair of eyes.
Neil didn’t look right away. His paranoia had been honed through years of running, but he wasn’t running anymore. He was safe. He was with Andrew.
Even so, unease coiled in his stomach. When he finally allowed himself to glance around, he spotted a man sitting at the far end of the bar, nursing a whiskey. His gaze was locked onto Neil, dark and unwavering. There was something in the way he looked—too intense, too deliberate.
Neil’s fingers twitched against the bar, but he forced himself to brush it off. He had been stared at before. It meant nothing.
He turned back to Andrew just as the bartender set their drinks down. Andrew was watching him with a perceptive look, but Neil simply grabbed the glasses and nodded toward their table. “Let’s go.”
Andrew didn’t ask.
Neil didn’t tell.
——————
An hour passed. Maybe two.
The team was still drinking, still laughing, still lost in their own conversations. Neil was finally feeling like he could relax when he realized he needed to go to the bathroom.
Andrew had just finished his drink, eyes hooded but sharp as ever. “Bathroom,” Neil muttered, pushing off the couch.
Andrew didn’t respond, but Neil felt his gaze follow him as he moved through the club.
The bathroom was dimly lit, the bass from the club reverberating through the tiled walls. Neil stepped up to the sink first, running cold water over his hands before heading toward the stalls.
Then, suddenly, a hand clamped around his wrist.
Neil barely had time to react before he was yanked back, slammed against the tile. His breath left him in a sharp exhale as he registered the man from the bar standing in front of him.
Too close.
“You look just like someone I used to know,” the man murmured, pressing in. The reek of alcohol clung to his breath.
Neil went rigid. His body screamed at him to fight, to break away, but the man was stronger. He shoved Neil against the floor, his weight pinning him down as his mouth crashed against Neil’s.
Neil turned his head, disgust curling in his stomach. He pushed, kicked, but the man was solid, heavy. His fingers dug into Neil’s wrist, pressing it against the floor.
“Let go of me.”
The man only laughed, his knee forcing Neil’s legs apart. Panic shot through him, but before he could react—
The door burst open.
Then, everything happened at once.
The weight was gone. A snarl of fury filled the space, followed by the unmistakable click of a blade.
Andrew.
Neil barely had time to sit up before he saw Andrew straddling the man’s chest, a knife pressed to his throat. His golden eyes were molten, pure rage poured into flesh.
Neil had seen Andrew fight before. Had seen him brutal and merciless.
But this was different.
This was personal.
Andrew pressed the blade harder against the man’s skin. “Give me one reason,” he breathed, voice too calm, too steady. “One reason to let you leave this room breathing.”
The man choked, hands trembling in surrender. “I—I didn’t—”
Andrew dug the knife in, just enough to draw blood. “You did.”
Neil forced himself up, his pulse hammering. His breath was unsteady, his skin crawling.
Andrew was still staring at the man beneath him, completely still, the knife pressed against the man’s throat like he was deciding whether or not to end him.
Neil swallowed, his voice tight. “Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge that Neil had spoken. His focus was entirely on the man beneath him, as if the rest of the world had faded away.
Neil knew that look.
Knew what it meant.
Andrew was going to kill him.
“Andrew,” Neil said again, forcing his voice to stay calm. “He’s not worth it.”
Nothing.
“You already won.”
Andrew’s fingers twitched against the hilt of his knife. He was calculating. Measuring the distance between life and death.
Neil took a slow breath. “You walk away now, and he knows what it’s like to be afraid.”
Andrew exhaled sharply through his nose. His grip on the knife tightened, then loosened.
Neil held his breath.
And then—
Andrew moved.
He stood suddenly, stepping back from the man as if he had simply lost interest. He wiped the blade on his jeans and sheathed it like the moment had never happened.
Neil watched him, heartbeat still uneven, as Andrew turned and walked out of the bathroom.
Neil followed.
——————
They didn’t go back to the others.
Neil texted Kevin, told him they’d figure out their own ride.
The Maserati was silent as they drove. Andrew’s grip on the wheel was tight, his jaw locked, but he didn’t speak.
Neil didn’t push.
Not until they reached the dorms.
Still, neither of them went inside. Instead, they climbed the stairs to the rooftop, the cool night air biting at their skin.
Andrew leaned against the railing, staring out at the city. His fingers twitched at his sides.
Neil took a step closer. “You okay?”
Andrew’s laugh was humorless. “I should be asking you that.”
Neil hesitated, then nodded. “I’m fine.”
Andrew shot him a look. “Liar.”
Neil exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had worse.”
Andrew’s fingers twitched again. Neil could see the storm still raging beneath his skin, the fury he hadn’t fully let out.
They stood there for a long moment, the silence stretching between them.
Then, quietly, Neil asked, “Yes or no?”
Andrew turned to him, something flickering behind his eyes.
Neil held his breath.
Then—
“Yes.”
Neil barely had time to process before Andrew was kissing him. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was teeth and hands gripping too tight, desperate and unyielding.
And Neil kissed him back.
Because he was here.
Because he was safe.
Because Andrew was the only thing in the world that made him feel like he wasn’t lost anymore.
And that was enough.