Chapter Text
Kevin took a moment to adjust his grip on the last box before lifting it out of the truck bed. From the weight of it, he guessed it was one of his two boxes of all the books he’d collected over the past couple years—most of them history textbooks. He set it on the sidewalk and nodded to Andrew, who hopped in the front seat to drive the truck back to the rental dealership. They couldn’t park idled at the side of the apartment complex for long, so Kevin and Andrew had focused on unloading the truck while Neil took boxes into the elevator.
Matt had offered his truck for the move, but they hadn’t been able to arrange a good time to drive it up to New York from South Carolina, so Kevin had wound up with a rental. When the Foxes all split to the winds after graduation, Dan and Matt had stayed in the Carolinas, settling into a nice house that was halfway between the city where Matt’s pro team was based, and Palmetto where Dan was gearing to take over Wymack’s program when he retired.
Kevin, for his part, had moved around a fair bit, going to whichever team offered the best opportunity to further his career. If he suspected that his manager was on the Moriyama’s payroll and was directing him only to teams that the family picked out for him, that wasn’t really any of his business.
Neil and Andrew, after having played on separate teams for a couple of years, had both wound up on the same pro team in New York. The New York Eagles were a successful enough team to suit the two of them, but no team outside The US Court could afford to take on all three of the best players in exy. So, Kevin was joining New York’s other pro team, since this was one of the handful of cities in the country that could support multiple.
Even without being on the same team, the exy world was already abuzz with the news that New York would get to boast having the Queen of Exy, the Fastest Striker in Exy, and the Best Goalie in the History of the Sport all for itself. One online forum that Allison had sent Kevin was complaining that the talent needed to be spread out more to give fans in other states a shot at winning.
Kevin thought that was bullshit. After all, Jean and Jeremy were both still in California (they had tried other cities before falling back to the comforts of home), Allison was scoring goals left and right down in Houston (the team had moved up several seeds just since her joining), and Catalina was setting records on a pro team in Florida (Laila moved with her and played recreationally outside of her Real Estate career). The rest of the states could handle Kevin, Neil, and Andrew all being in one city, at least until Kevin’s two year contract was up.
The transfer itself had been a bit of a shock and came out of nowhere, (lending evidence to Moriyama meddling, but Kevin wasn’t going to question it). His last team was with the Seattle Seahawks, which had been going alright. Sure, he hadn’t made any friends on the team, and sure, sometimes he got so lonely that he regretted getting sober, but hey, the team itself was highly ranked!
He only got the notice two weeks ago that he would be transferring, which left him scrambling to find an apartment. He still wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but an email to Neil asking if a certain apartment complex was as sketchy as it looked had somehow turned into Kevin staying in their guest room until he could find a more permanent place to stay.
While part of him desperately missed living with them at Palmetto, another part of him remembered how horribly awkward it was being a third wheel that last year. Watching Neil and Andrew orbit each other and ignore him sixty percent of the time was a particular kind of unpleasantness, and one he wasn’t super excited to slide back into.
Neil came up next to him and grabbed the box he’d just set down. Kevin couldn’t help noticing how he barely seemed to strain with the weight of it, a realization that sent something twisting in his stomach. Envy, maybe? He shook it off.
“I can take that one up if you want to take a break and watch the rest of the stuff,” he said.
Neil shook his head, “Better to go ahead and get it done. Besides, the building has cameras, we’re fine to both take things up and leave the rest here. I think two more trips should do it.”
“Leave them here?” Kevin raised a brow skeptically, “Fine, but if someone steals my Complete History of the French Romantic Movement , you’re buying me a new copy.” He bent down to pick up a different box, not noticing the way Neil’s eye’s tracked him down.
“Trust me Kev, no one wants your dusty books. Now get inside,” Neil held the door open impatiently. Kevin rolled his eyes and followed him in.
…
When Andrew got home around a half hour later, Neil and Kevin had deposited all of the boxes in the guest room. Kevin didn’t see much point in unpacking since he wasn’t planning on staying too long, so the most he did was take his athletic wear out to hang in the closet. Andrew surveyed the scene with an arched brow then turned to leave, only remarking that, “The cats will be mad.”
At Kevin’s confused expression, Neil elaborated, “Sir and King like to sunbathe on the floor in here. The boxes are blocking where the sun comes in. It’s fine though, they’re spoiled enough and have plenty of other windows.”
Feeling ashamed about stealing from a literal cat was probably a new low, Kevin thought. A mark of how out of place he was here. He tried to shake the feeling off and followed Neil into the living room. Andrew looked up from the couch where he was petting one of the cats, Kevin couldn’t tell which, with a bored expression.
“Pizza’s on the way,” Kevin didn’t know why he was surprised that Andrew sounded as uninterested as ever. Years of texting instead of hanging out in person shouldn’t have made him forget what it sounded like to witness Andrew’s indifference. Or to be the target of it.
He shifted his weight awkwardly. The old Kevin of Palmetto would have scoffed and immediately demanded to know what nutritional alternatives they had in the kitchen for him instead. He might’ve told Andrew to cancel the order or lectured him on what was or wasn’t an appropriate diet for an athlete. As it was, the Kevin of now felt too acutely the hospitality that he was already imposing on. They wouldn’t kick him out for being annoying, but it had been long enough that he wasn’t quite sure where he stood anymore.
Neil had a puzzled expression, like he was waiting on an objection from Kevin that wasn’t coming. When nothing came, he shrugged and threw himself onto the couch next to Andrew, making the cat startle and dash away. Andrew leveled a glare at Neil but he seemed unfazed.
Watching Andrew lift an arm for Neil to tuck into his side, Kevin couldn’t fight the sudden urge to flee. He’d get over this. He just needed time to settle back into living with someone. Into living with Neil and Andrew.
“I’m going to run out and get some groceries, where’s the nearest place?”
Andrew flicked his eyes over but said nothing. It was Neil who raised his brow and said, “There’s a grocery store two blocks down. We have groceries.”
Kevin couldn’t help his scoff this time, “You have Andrew groceries. We need real groceries.”
Neil made a half shrug as best as he could laying against Andrew, “Suit yourself.” He swung his legs into Andrew’s lap, and that was definitely all that Kevin needed to see of that. He hurried out the door, pausing only to search for his wallet before finding it in a random duffle. He avoided looking at Neil and Andrew as he left. The thought of seeing them staring into each other's eyes or some other intimate shit made his chest tighten uncomfortably.
…
One week in and things were alright. It was easier than Kevin had expected to fall back into old patterns with Neil and Andrew. Like muscle memory, he knew where to nag Neil, where to scold Andrew, where to roll his eyes, and where to huff in annoyance. The years hadn’t changed what a little shit Josten was, nor had they changed how infuriating it was to make Andrew do anything he didn’t want.
Annoyance was good. Annoyance was familiar. Annoyance was half the basis of their friendship at Palmetto.
Only half the basis because the rest was built on yelling at exy reruns on the TV with Neil and being bitchy about bad dancers at Eden’s with Andrew. It was giving Andrew his back and being trusted with Neil’s.
The first Saturday at the apartment, he walked into the living room at four thirty am to see Neil clicking away aimlessly at the TV remote, flipping through channels on mute so it wouldn’t wake Andrew. He was in head to toe running gear, clearly about to go on his morning run. When Kevin asked what he was still doing here, the response made something fuzzy grip his throat.
“Waiting on you, duh. I know for a fact your stadium is locked today, so the best you’ll get is running with me.”
“We could go to your stadium.”
“It's also locked.”
“You know how to pick locks.”
“We’re going on a fucking run, Kevin.”
And that was that.
Orbiting Neil and Andrew in their own space wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Neil resumed watching endless exy games with him, and Andrew had started preparing food options that met Kevin’s standards without mentioning it. It was more than he could’ve hoped for after being isolated from the rest of the foxes for so long.
Except.
Except this one thing. This one thing that made him wonder if he would’ve been better off alone in his Seattle apartment with nothing but the wind for company.
The apartment wasn’t a massive one. It was nice, but Kevin knew that Neil and Andrew could afford nicer with their salaries. All in all, it was just a living room, kitchen, one bathroom, and two bedrooms. The two bedrooms, to Kevin’s absolute misery, shared a wall. A pretty important wall considering that it was evidently the one that his new roommates had put their bed against.
Neil and Andrew were…loud. To put it politely. To put it impolitely, Kevin now knew more about his friend’s sex lives than he ever thought he would, and that was saying something considering how insane they were at Palmetto. At least back then they had a desire for privacy, not wanting the other foxes in their business. Here, however, was their apartment. The addition of Kevin was not about to make them start being chaste in their own home.
The first time, Kevin reasoned, he was in too much horrified shock to reach for his noise cancelling headphones.
The second time, the headphones were obviously dead.
The third time, still dead. He must’ve forgotten to charge them somehow.
The fourth time, the headphones were charged. But damn it, Kevin had the right to sleep without headphones if he wanted to. Sleeping with headphones was probably bad for those little rocks inside your ears, or something. He figured there had to be some sciencey shit about ears and volume, and as an athlete he obviously couldn’t risk it.
Instead, he tossed and turned in bed, trying to tune out the sound of a headboard hitting the wall. Neither of them seemed embarrassed in the mornings, so Kevin fought the urge to avoid eye contact and pretended that he heard nothing.
Trying to keep his promise to be out of their hair before too long, he scheduled a tour of an apartment complex that looked promising. Only a twenty minute walk from the stadium where his team practiced, floor to ceiling windows for a stunning view, a state of the art gym, and a pool. Even with his tithes of 80%, he still made enough to afford a luxury apartment if he wanted one.
And it was what he wanted, he told himself. Not like Neil and Andrew who stayed cramped in a modest place, never mind that they filled it with enough personality to feel more like home than any high brow apartment Kevin had ever lived in.