Work Text:
The Foxes had just finished a particularly taxing game against the Bearcats and Neil was completely exhausted. He leaned against the wall of the stadium, breathing heavily and preparing himself to walk over to the horde of Foxes in the center of the arena getting ready for handshakes. As he headed over to his teammates however, he looked over to see that Andrew was still in goal, fidgeting with his gloves.
He ignored Kevin’s stare and headed over to the goal. He stood in front of Andrew, who glanced up at him, but didn’t respond and promptly resumed ignoring him.
They stayed in this stalemate for an uncomfortable moment before Andrew moved aside and started walking towards the center, clearly beckoning Neil to follow with just a “Staring.”
Neil could tell something was wrong, but he wanted to wait until they were off the court to confront Andrew about what was wrong. However, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle tightening of Andrew’s shoulders with every handshake he had to receive. As they headed off the court, Neil raised an eyebrow at him, but Andrew’s face didn’t move from its normal blank state.
While the rest of the team moved to the showers, Andrew sat down on one of the benches and stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers every few seconds. Neil sat on the floor in front of him and hovered his hand by Andrew’s. “Yes or no?”
“No.”
Neil pulled his hand away, but didn’t move from his spot. “Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Andrew scowled and said nothing.
“If you’re hurt, we need to go tell Abby so that we can make sure nothing’s seriously wrong.”
Andrew continued the silent treatment. After a few minutes, Neil huffed in frustration and said, “Andrew, let me see your hand. It’s either me or Abby and I know who you’d prefer.”
Andrew thrust his hand out for Neil’s inspection, saying “For a man with a barely there identity, you think very highly of yourself.”
Neil snorted and turned Andrew’s hand over carefully in his own. “And you enjoy making things difficult. That’s not my fault.”
They were quiet for another moment before Neil stood and said, “I’m going to get ice. Can I trust you not to run off?”
“I’m not the runner, remember?”
Neil rolled his eyes, but headed over to where Abby stored ice and brought a pack back to where Andrew was waiting. He waited for Andrew’s nod before pressing it to his palm, ensuring that it was resting on all the affected parts. It was a bit difficult with the way Andrew would hiss and pull his hand away frequently.
Eventually, Neil sighed. “This would be over a lot sooner if you’d stop moving.”
Andrew’s tone didn’t fluctuate much, but Neil knew him well enough to hear the slight petulance in his voice when he complained, “It’s cold.”
“Of course it is. It’s ice. Sit still.”
From there, Andrew was a much more cooperative patient and Neil was finally able to wrap the ice around Andrew’s hand. After a moment, he said, “You realize this is why they call us an old married couple, right?”
Andrew exhaled shortly. “As though I’d marry you. You’re a prime candidate for runaway groom.”
Neil huffed out a laugh. “Do you have to be an asshole?”
“Yes.”
“I’m done running. The only thing you’d have to be worried about is me dumping hot soup on you because you’re an awful patient.”
“I’d put sugar in your coffee.”
“I’d put your ice cream out in the sun.”
“I’d throw out your kale bullshit.”
“I’ll bring home a cat.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
They stared at each other for a minute before Neil said, “I win.”
“I wasn’t playing.”
Neil stood up to head toward the shower before the others started complaining. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Get out of my sight.”
“Okay, but you forfeit the right to stare at my ass while I’m walking away.”
“I hope you drown.”
“Whatever you say.”