Chapter Text
Neil woke up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and reaching out for the solid figure that should have been next to him. But his hand came up empty just like in his dream. Just like every morning since the start of training for the professional Exy season.
This is Neil’s new routine. Wake up alone. Remember what he had. Pretending it doesn’t hurt.
He would wake up to a silent, empty, and cold apartment with a pounding heart. Neil laid there, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for his heart to stop racing and for peace to settle over him.
That peace would never come.
That peace was long gone. The right side of the bed stayed cold. The apartment feels quieter. Cleaner. Lonelier. His peace, his warmth, his reason to keep going was across the country with Andrew, whilst he prepared for his first professional Exy season with the San Francisco Titans with Kevin.
It was Neil’s fifth year, and he was alone. The last of our original Palmetto State Foxes standing.
–
Once Neil’s heart slows, he looks at the clock, showcasing 4:30 in the morning.
“Great. Another 4:30a.m. damn wake-up call,” Neil thought, exhausted and frustrated by the loss of sleep and feelings of worthlessness.
Neil sat up slowly, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and something that he couldn’t name. He stripped off his clothes, avoiding the mirror. He was ugly, with his scarred skin, bones peeking through, and the ghost of someone who was wanted
He started the shower, and turned it as cold as it would go. The shock helped. It always did. It gave him a real, physical, sharp feeling to focus on.
He remembered when Andrew would shower with him. He would always change the water temperature, always complaining that his rabbit would turn into an icicle.
— — —
Neil got up as quickly and quietly as he could. But Andrew provided a challenge.
As much as Neil loves being cuddled by him, he really needed to move. So, with a slow precision, he carefully slid out from under Andrew’s arm and padded to the bathroom.
He stripped out of his pajamas and stepped into the cold water. Just as he reached the shampoo, he felt a familiar presence slide in behind him. Andrew's body provided a warm contrast against the chill of the shower.
“Yes or no rabbit?” Andrew questioned slowly, voice barely audible over the spray of the water.
Neil did not hesitate. “It is always yes with you. And I am not a rabbit anymore,” he added, quieter now. “At least when I am with you.”
Andrew turned Neil around, so they are face to face, close enough to breathe the same breath. His hand reached behind Neil to twist the knob, making the water warmer.
“Don’t say always, and stop showering with such cold water. You’re going to turn into an icicle and I would like to keep my boyfriend intact,” Andrew said.
Neil looked Andrew in the eyes,his own eye bright with so many emotions that he didn’t feel the need to hide.
“I always mean it,” he said softly. “And I won’t turn into an icicle when I have you to warm me up.”
Then Neil leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Andrew’s lips, light but certain.
Andrew kissed him back, but then playfully pushed his face away.
“143%,” Andrew said with a deadpan stare, but his words filled Neil with warmth.
— — —
After his shower, he toweled off and pulled on his running clothes. This was his morning ritual, every day now that Andrew was gone. It was familiar, safe, something stable that he could hold onto. He sat on his bed and began tying his shoes with practiced ease. He tried avoiding the scars on his fingers, trying to avoid thinking about the past.
His eyes flickered to his phone, lying face-down on the desk where he had left it. Dead and untouched. He hasn’t charged it in weeks as there hadn’t been much point.
Andrew was buried in his training, the beginning of the professional season was brutal. The time difference made it even worse. And when they did talk, it was short and clipped.
Neil wanted more.
But wanting wouldn't change time zones.
And it did not make the silence hurt less.
He ignores his phone, grabs his key, and walks out of the door.
He took off without a set direction, running as far as his legs would take him. He runs until the burning in his legs begins to mix with the throbbing weight on his lungs. Until the sweat stung his eyes and his breath became ragged. Until the pain in his body screamed louder than the pain in his heart.
But it never fully drowned it out.
That ache in his chest stayed.
Constant heavy silence.
But he still kept running. Because stopping meant feeling it all over again. And Neil was not ready to feel again.