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Neil breathed in the familiar scent of Andrew’s cigarette smoke, empty shot glass in hand. The club was as dark as ever, wrapping Neil in a comforting blanket of shadows, air heavy with sweat and smoke. It was only the two of them in this quiet corner, away from the chaos and ruckus of the dance floor. Kevin and Aaron had wandered off in search of more drinks, and God knows where Nicky was. It didn’t matter though. In this moment, it was only them. To an onlooker, they might’ve seen as though they were strangers, merely occupying each other's proximity. But if you looked closer, you would notice Andrew’s relaxed shoulders, his off alert attitude. You’d notice Neil’s guard drop, only ever truly feeling safe around Andrew, even though he knows the danger has been eliminated. Old habits die hard.
The especially observant individual might even notice how their breaths sync up, two planets in orbit of one another, in their own secluded universe.
Andrew yawned as he grounded his cigarette butt on the floor. He reached into his pocket to place another between his lips, but didn’t light it. He bobbed it with his lips, almost comically moving it sideways and upwards and downwards, his expression bored. Eventually Neil reached into his own pocket to pull out his lighter, one hand cuffing Andrew’s cigarette, the other lighting it. Andrew’s hazel eyes bore fiercely into Neil’s, and no-one beside him would know that the expression wasn’t a mad one.
Not even after a single puff, Andrew dropped the cigarette onto the ground, grinding it under his foot.
“Yes or no?” he asked.
“Yes,” Neil replied.
Andrew’s lips upon his were soft and delicate, his hand drawing knots in Neil’s ginger waves. It was only them, in their little corner of the world, lost in the presence of one another. Their bodies were pressed against one another, so close that Neil could feel the reassurance thumping of Andrew’s heart, yet it still wasn’t close enough. Neil was lost in Andrew’s lips, his tongue exploring every inch of his mouth, his-
“Ahem.”
They slowly pulled apart, both their eyebrows knotted in a comically similar manner, looking up at their interrupter through eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Kevin and Aaron stared back at the pair, a new round of drinks in hand and Nicky in tow.
“Hope we’re not interrupting anything important,” Nicky said, his teeth showing in a wide grin, placing himself on the seat beside Neil.
“I still cannot believe you lot dragged me down here in the middle of a season. We should be training,” Kevin grumbled, drowning his shot.
“Oh loosen up, Queen,” Nicky snorted in response, “You’re lucky we have a game in two days, or we would’ve dragged you down to Colombia.”
Kevin made a noise of disbelief, and the two began their usual bickering. The rest of the night continued in a similar manner, Andrew sitting in silence, with Aaron, otherwise occupied on his phone, and Neil occasionally providing their unwanted input into Kevin and Nicky’s debates. Kevin got just as trashed as he always did whenever they went out, his incredibly low alcohol tolerance taking a stand. By the time they made it back to the dorms, he was fast asleep, and it took vigorous shaking on behalf of Andrew to wake the man up.
Neil drifted in and out of sleep that night, the sound of Kevin’s retching over the toilet waking him every now and then.
-
Neil awoke to an incredible assault of his phone under his ears, notifications blasting at a speed he didn’t know was possible. A sleepy Andrew groaned beside him and Neil pressed a few buttons, vision blurry from rest, or lack of, till he managed to get the thing to shut up. He dragged a hand across his face, looking at the time- 7:34am. Too early for a Sunday, even for him. But the damage was done, and with a huff, we pushed himself off the bed. Upon his departure, Andrew mumbled something incomprehensible, before rolling back to sleep, back firmly pressed against the wall. Neil softly closed the door behind him, desperately in search of a cup of water to sedate his blaring head. Instead, he was greeted with an anxiety ridden Kevin.
“Why did I even listen to you?” He said, his face paler than usual, “we have a game tomorrow, and I can’t play if I’m going to vomit every two seconds.” Somehow, his face grew even whiter as he bolted to the toilet, barfing up whatever remained of his insides.
Neil dragged a hand across his face, his need for water transformed into a dire need of coffee. He dragged open the fridge, leaning down to inspect his options, although he already knew what he would be greeted with.
Some moldy cheese, a packet of sliced bread, and two eggs.
He sighed.
Reluctantly, Neil slid his feet into shoes, grabbing his wallet and the keys. It was only a 3 minute walk to the corner store, where he could find some real food. And coffee. Definitely coffee.
He took the steps two at a time, eager to get back before Andrew woke up. It didn’t help that his body was half asleep, barely having rested. As much as he hated to admit it, Kevin was right. They should’ve been practisin-
He hadn’t even gotten a chance to reach the last step before he was bombarded by camera flashes. Interviewers were shoving their microphones toward him, desperately attempting to push one another out of the way.
What could I have possibly done this time?
“Neil, a comment regarding your relations with teammate Andrew Minyard!”
Neil’s body halted.
What?
He didn’t realise he said aloud, and it set the reporters off again, questions pouring over one another.
“Are you two dating?”
“How long have you been together?”
“We love your shirt! Did Andrew lend it to you?”
Neil looked down at the shirt he had blindly picked last night before practically falling on his bed.
It was Andrew’s jersey. He didn’t have to look at the back to know “MINYARD” was printed in large lettering for all to see.
Where the fuck was campus security?
Finally pushing past the swarm of seagulls, his lungs took a deep inhale.
He picked up his pace, strides growing wider in an attempt to leave them behind. They were still following, questions bouncing off one another.
Are you gay? What does it feel like being the first openly queer couple in collegiate Exy? Who’s the bottom?
Neil’s body rocked to a stop at that last question. The questions stopped, and the reporters knew they had crossed a line. He turned on his heel, and everyone knew they were about to get Neil loudmouth Josten, the one that had insulted Riko Moriyama his freshman year, the one that made headlines for his blunt attitude toward the media.
“You want to ask that again?” He said, eyes boring holes into the reporter who’d asked the question.
The reporter, a man who seemed to be in his early 40s, did not seem to be deterred.
“I said, who is the b-”
Neil wasn’t going to give him a chance to finish. He could feel the heat of the cameras as he wound his hand up to hook the shit out of the man. He was just about to make contact when his body was pulled away from the man, hands wrapped around his shoulders. He was about to punch whoever put their hands on him as well, until he realised it was Nicky, dragging him back inside their dorm building,
Neil struggled against Nicky’s grip once they were out of sight of the reporters.
Nicky sighed. “Come on,” he said, walking up the stairs, looking over his shoulder to ensure Neil was following.
He stopped in front of their dorm door. “You go in. I’ll be in the girls' dorm.”
Nicky grabbed his arm as he reached for the door, and angeled Neil so their eyes were meeting, Nicky looking down on him due to their considerable height difference.
“I’m really sorry Neil.”
“Thanks.” For his words, or helping him out of the gaggle of reporters, Neil wasn’t sure. Probably both, and also much more.
He softly closed the door behind him, leaving Nicky staring at him with somber eyes and knotted eyebrows.
The TV was on, Andrew situated on the sofa in front of it, wrapped in a blanket, a cup of some sort of steaming drink coming out of it. Knowing Andrew it was probably hot chocolate. Where he got the milk from, Neil wasn’t sure, but he did know nothing would come between Andrew and his morning hot chocolate.
The TV was turned to an Exy channel, and with a start he realised it was footage of him from mere moments ago.
It was him confronting the reporter, and it cut off right after Nicky dragged him away. The screen flashed to a woman standing outside the dorm, talking about their relationship. His relationship, that was no one else’s business.
“Do you care?” Neil asked, his eyes creeping to Andrew.
“No.”
He took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Same.”
Andrew didn’t respond but he moved over slightly, an unspoken invitation for Neil to sit beside him.
“Coffee,” Andrew stated, inclining his head ever so slightly toward the kitchen bench, where a steaming mug was waiting for him.
Neil smirked, “All for me.”
Andrew replied with a snort.
“Junkie.”
He sat down next to him, hands warmed from the cold, Andrew’s body heat radiating onto him as he placed his head on his shoulders.
“You have my jersey, Josten.”
“So I do.”
“Take it off.”
Neil pulled the fabric off over his head, a smug smile playing over his face. After discarding the orange shirt, he sat back down next to Drew.
He hummed in approval, his eyes brushing over the now shirtless man beside him.
“Yes or no?” He asked, all humour gone from his eyes.
“It’s always yes with you.”
But Andrew didn't move. Instead, his fingers slightly brushed against Neil’s exposed abdomen, tracing his fingers across each scar, each bump in skin, a testament to Neil’s courage and his unwavering braveness.
It was more intimate than any kiss.