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This semester Neil’s lectures on Fridays end quickly. He spends the rest of the day hanging out with the Foxes. At start it’s just Matt, then Allison and Renee join in. Even some of the new foxes find their way into Neil’s old dorm room. He is, however, glad not to see Jack anywhere. Neil wasn’t sure he could handle any more of his attitude, he had had enough of it this morning at practice. He knows he is a bit lost in thought when Allison repeats a question while snapping her fingers near Neil’s face.
“Earth to Neil! You and the monsters want to hang out with us tonight?”
Neil rolls his eyes at the insistent calling of their ‘group’ monsters, but it’s not like Allison will stop if he asks her for the 100th time.
“We’re going to Columbia, it’s been a bit since the last time.”
“Oohhh what's in Columbia?” Lana, another addition to their lineup this year, almost sings.
The room falls a little too quiet for Neil’s liking at Lana’s question. He has gotten too used to the warm chatter that the upperclassmen always bring to the room for it to now be silent. Neil knows that if she’s to ever be invited, it probably would be another test. However, thinking back to Andrew's assessment of the new lineup, Neil guesses that none of them would ever actually receive an invitation. “Boring.” Andrew had told Neil when he asked at the end of summer.
“Nothing that you have to worry about, just a club we like to go to.” Neil gives an easy answer with a smile and almost feels the rest of the original Foxes breathe a sigh of relief. Their fear of Andrew hurting any of them was almost laughable if it didn’t make Neil a little angry. He glanced at the clock on the wall and decided this was as good a time to leave and get ready as any.
The drive to Sweetie’s is almost unremarkable, aside from Kevin's fuming over Jack, apparently, switching their racquets. Not that Neil knew anything about that. So instead of focusing on their chatter, he spent most of the time on the road, either looking outside his window or staring at Andrew driving. He did notice Andrew's eyes looking back at him a few times from their corners. An unsaid ‘Staring’ floating between them in the air.
After Sweetie’s they finally arrive at the club. Andrew lets everyone else out and leaves to find a place to park the Maserati at. Inside is as loud as always. The sweet smell of cocktails and sticky sweat overtakes Neil once again while trying to find a booth or a table for their group. He doesn’t see much above everyone's heads, but Kevin seems to have spotted an empty table with glasses that would need to be cleaned up. A table is a table, though.
Neil decides to act as a runner, ironic, given his history, and grabs the glasses before getting their usual drinks. Walking from the door to the table was one thing, walking to the bar while his hands are full with glasses is another. There's a few people that almost knock the towers of glass in his hands but Neil somehow manages through with all of them intact. Finally he finds himself at the bar, taking a seat on a stool, while trying to catch Roland’s eye. When Neil knows the bartender has noticed him, he is content to wait for him to be free and twirls around a napkin on the bar.
“Hey pretty boy, what are you doing here?” A voice to his left suddenly speaks, it's almost drowned out by the music, but Neil still hears it. He doesn’t recognize it, and it shoots off some alarms in his head. ‘They found me’ he thinks at first, but there’s no one hunting him anymore. ‘Ichirou must want me gone’ he thinks second, but he hadn’t done anything to ruin his career yet. Finally, Neil turns and is met with green narrow eyes. The man is quite tall with black hair and a cigarette perched behind his ear. He takes a sip from a bright blue drink, seemingly waiting for any answer.
“Ordering drinks?” Neil finally says, confused but unconcerned at the sudden interaction. Maybe the man had just recognized him as an Exy player. After all, he was talked about way too much last year, so it wouldn’t be a surprise.
The man drops his head and laughs, it takes a moment, but he finally brushes his hand through his hair and looks back up at Neil. “Not the usual answer I get, you’re funny.”
He decides not to answer that at all but rather choosing to go back to his thoughts.
Most of the foxes just either look at him with pity when he tells them he hasn’t seen yet another movie or with this look Nicky once called ‘that's how families look when they're proud of you’. Others might call him a little shit, but that one he wears like a badge of honor.
The man however doesn’t let Neil drift back too deep. He extends his right hand towards Neil, scoots a little closer, assumingly, so he doesn't need to shout anymore, “I’m Christian, by the way.”
Neil shakes Christian’s hand. It’s warm, almost clammy from the heat in here and so so soft, a stark contrast to Andrew’s. He kind of finds himself missing the familiar calluses that adorn the blondes' palms while still holding this stranger's hand.
Before Neil can weigh the pros and cons of giving his own name back, Roland finally stands in front of him, slightly eyeing Christian. “The usual, Neil?”
He lets go of Christian’s hand and drops his hand down while simultaneously shaking his head up and down, “Doubt anyone would be happy if their order changed. Though Nicky mentioned wanting to try something new. Think there's still a cocktail he hasn’t tried?”
Roland’s chuckle disappears with the loud thumping of the bass, but the smile Neil sees. “If I throw random things together, there's a small chance he wouldn’t have tried it yet.”
He goes to work on their order and Christian speaks up, yet again. “Neil, huh. Pretty name, it suits you.”
Neil wants to say that ‘thanks, I chose it myself’ but there's no chance for him to speak.
“Nicky, is that a boyfriend?”
Finally, an opening to say something, even if it’s just basic information. “No, teammate.”
“Oh, what sport do you play? No, no, let me guess, actually.” He goes silent while dragging his eyes all over Neil’s body, letting them linger in some certain places. The gaze feels sickly sweet and sticky, and Neil has the need to almost recoil under it. It is nowhere near how good it feels to have Andrew look at him. He finds himself getting up to go wait at the other side of the bar, trusting Roland to still find him. But then Christian finally drags his gaze back up again. “Something with running… especially with a body like that. Football? Mmmm no, you’re too pretty for it, even with that burn.”
Christian’s hand reaches up, and he feels the same soft hands brushing his cheek.
Andrew has eyes, he knows what Neil looks like, and yet he is never prepared for the ogling stares that others give Neil. It happens at Eden’s Twilight, it happens on the streets, or in airports or hell, even on their own team.
Yeah, he wasn’t much better when they first met, it’s a hard thing to do, not to look at Neil, when he looks the way he looks, but it’s different now that… now that he was his. There's a certain possessiveness that Andrew has. It used to be divided between all of the people he had made promises to, but now there was just Neil. Neil and his very good looks, not that he would ever say that last part out loud.
When he finally walks in, greeting the bouncers on his way, he quickly scans the place, trying to locate where they all chose to settle down. However, the place is so crowded, and the lights are so dark that he figures it's easier to get to the bar and find whoever went to order drinks. It doesn’t take long for him to spot the red hair in the lightning at the bar, but what takes longer to register is the man that's obviously scanning Neil’s looks, only to stop and stare at his ass for a few painfully annoying seconds. Andrew thinks Neil will have enough sense to just turn and ignore the man, but he still gets down to the dance floor and makes his way through the crowd as fast as he can. He can’t see what's going on anymore, not the red hair or the blue eyes, but it will be fine, he tells himself.
It’s not fine when he finally breaks through the last group of people only to find the man's hand on Neil’s cheek and the other sneaking on his thigh while Neil has gotten up and is seemingly trying to back away.
Andrew doesn’t think before grabbing the idiot's wrist. He doesn’t think before ducking down under that arm and slipping a knife out of his armbands. He doesn’t think before pressing the blade near the stranger's left kidney. And he doesn’t think when he becomes the wall separating Neil from this danger.
“Don’t touch him, creep, he’s mine.”
Andrew feels the other man tense up under him. He sees fear in those dull green eyes and the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, most likely from the heat, but he likes to think it was the fear.
“Hey man…”
All he sees in his mind is a replay of this man’s hands touching Neil, it's like the memory is on loop for some sick purpose. He touched his goddamn things. And yes, maybe Andrew has no real claim on Neil, fine. But he also remembers how uncomfortable Neil had looked, trying to back away, trying to get out, and god, the blade presses harder at the fabric, separating it from the skin that it wants so much.
Andrew stares daggers at this idiot, like some kind of animal, waiting for the other to look away in defeat. He knows he would have probably won if a hand he recognized hadn’t settled a few inches away from his face, blocking his view. “Andrew,” his name coming from somewhere behind him, sounding so soft and precious that it breaks him out of his one track focus.
“Andrew, I’m fi-”
“I’ll take literally any other word, Neil.” Andrew almost laughs in a way that he used to on those stupid drugs, but instead he closes his eyes to gather his thoughts, trying to ease his grip around both the knife and the other guy’s wrist.
“I’m okay, now that you’re here.”
He’s okay. Neil is safe and unharmed. Everything is alright. Andrew slowly lets go of the wrist he is still very much griping and slowly slips the knife back in his armbands. He lets his hands drop and opens his eyes, Neil’s hand now gone. He might not kill the creep anymore, but he will throw as many daggers with his eyes as he can.
“Gods you’re such a psycho. You can’t blame me for wanting to hit that!”
This idiot’s mouth might be fucking bigger than Neil’s. This time, before he can attempt to puncture the dude’s kidney, again, Neil steps between them. “Okay okay, how about you get lost? I’m not interested.”
The idiot looks at Neil and smirks, “Sure, you know where to find me when your boyfriend doesn’t have a claim on that pretty ass of yours.”
Andrew swears that he hears the creep follow up with, “How’d he get such a hottie?” under his breath. He really isn’t sure, though, because as the stupid ass comment registers, he is stepping around Neil and already swinging back his left hand. It crashes into the idiot's cheek. The impact sends him stumbling against the bar, spilling a half-finished blue cocktail all over it. People suddenly step back, and there’s some raised voices over the music, but Andrew just cares about putting this creep in his place.
“Learn how to shut the fuck up, moron.” he hears his own voice, but it could as well be anyone else’s. Andrew stands over the guy. It’s not hard, even with his height, when the idiot is half slumped to the floor groaning. He holds his wrist and gives it a few spins. Neil would be mad if he had injured his hand because of this. Though it seems he won’t have an excuse to skip practice.
Of course, it doesn’t take long for the bouncers to show up. Good thing that the ones on shift tonight were some that he had worked with previously. They know not to touch him. Which is good for everyone, Andrew isn’t sure he could calm himself down enough not to start an actual fight. They motion for him to walk outside. Before starting to follow them, he looks back at Neil signaling with his hand to come with.
In the fresh air he can finally light a cigarette. Andrew lets Neil explain the situation to the bouncers, while taking long slow drags to calm down. He chooses this moment to text Nicky.
Andrew: Drinks at the house, or not at all.
Nicky: But we just got heeeeeree!
Andrew: Outside now or you can walk back.
Nicky: Fiiiine but ur dealin w/ Kevin
The whole way back, Kevin is even more annoying. At least while getting to Sweetie’s his anger about the racquets was funny, but now he was just plain grumpy.
“There's enough to drink back at the house.” He hears Neil try to quiet the drama queen. This seems to make Nicky excited as he squeals a little, and Andrew sees something moving up and down in the mirror.
“We could play never have I ever!!!” He exclaims. However, it’s followed by two groans from the other two men in the backseat. Andrew would join them, but he’d rather watch the road to ease the anger still bubbling under his skin.
“Okay, drink in silence like alcoholics it is then.” Nicky sighs and slumps down in his seat.
There's still some lingering anger even in the next morning. Andrew keeps telling himself that this is nothing. Nothing to be protective over, nothing that would give Andrew a claim on Neil, but the anger is still there. He might need to bring it up with Bee. It’s actually concerning how he is angry over nothing.
He blows out the smoke from his second cigarette on the porch when the door opens behind him. Andrew turns his head slightly to see who it is but doesn’t even get past the bright orange running shorts when he already knows it's Neil.
“It’s six am,” he brings the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag, “on a Saturday.”
“And?” The redhead says before sitting down next to him, his legs resting on the step one down, arms straight, elbows left on his knees. Andrew has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. They sit there for a while in silence, content with staring at the street before them, watching a rare car ride past. Even in this silence, some anger finally boils over.
“Thought you said you don’t swing.” He brings his gaze to Neil’s cheek, the memory replaying in his head once again. Neil's face contours in confusion, turning to look at Andrew.
“I don’t?”
“Then why did you let the flirting go that far?” He almost wants to smash his head into a wall, realizing he is blaming Neil for someone else's actions. But the words have been said already.
“I…” Neil pauses as soon as he starts speaking. Andrew guesses he is trying to formulate his thoughts. “I only realized he was flirting around the time you stepped in…”
And then it's like he really has smashed his head into a wall. Is Neil really that dense? God, the last year starts making more and more sense to Andrew. Though he would like to think he wasn’t that obvious… even if some people had won bets. Then he realizes he has been staring at Neil, mouth slightly open in small disbelief, the cigarette hanging for dear life on his lips. Of course, Neil notices the look and reads what it means exactly.
“How was I supposed to know? It’s not like he told me he wants to dance with me or something!”
Andrew has to rub his eyes, “A man at a bar talks to you, it's almost always flirting.”
“Well, now I know.” Neil looks back out to the street, bringing up his hand to his scarred cheek. Andrew can almost read what is going through his mind but doesn’t say a word. He lets Neil mull it over. “I just didn’t think I’d be anyone's type.”
He stubs out the cigarette under his boot and brings his hand to his cheek, letting it hover over Neil’s hand. “Yes or no?” Instead of answering though, Neil just drops his own hand and leans into the touch Andrew's palm brings.
“Don’t insult my taste in men like that.” Those are the words he says, but he hopes Neil can hear what he means with them. Even with the shitty box dye and even worse contacts, Neil had caught his eye. Now that he was freely himself, the red hair and blue eyes and the countless scars that made him Neil, Andrew sometimes just couldn’t keep his eyes away from the redhead. He was beautiful.
Neil stays silent, but there's a smile that blooms on his face, making him look even brighter than the goddamn sun. He drags away his eyes, this is not the time or place, who knows maybe the other stickball junkie is also awake and looking. “Go on your run, junkie.”
The redhead laughs. Before standing up his hand is placed over Andrew's as he practically melts in the touch. With a sigh Neil stands up, stretching his legs and arms. Before he can set off, Andrew adds, “You better not be gone too long, or I’m leaving you to hitchhiking again.”
He can practically see the grin on Neil’s face, even if he’s with his back turned to him. Andrew is not immune either, and he lets his gaze drop a little lower to Neil’s hips and ass while he runs. While no one’s around, he lets out an almost silent chuckle. The creep from yesterday was right about one thing, he did bag a hottie with a pretty ass.