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Midnight Snack

Summary:

Aaron bakes until 1 a.m.
Andrew pretends he doesn’t care.
They both lie.

Notes:

This is the English version; you can find it in Spanish, my native language, on my profile. This is a version translated literally using a computer.
I hope you like it, I wrote it at 4 in the morning during an anxiety attack.

Work Text:

Aaron has just broken up with his girlfriend, which should make Andrew happy, but clearly he isn’t. He can’t be. He doesn’t have feelings.

He reaches their floor, ready to head to his bedroom, with Neil and Kevin at his back. It’s late—they’ve just come back from night practice—and he only wants to crawl into bed with Neil and sleep. But he makes the mistake of glancing at Aaron’s apartment door at the end of the hallway. The light is on, and without knowing why, he walks straight toward it.

He holds out his hand to Neil. Slightly confused, Neil looks at Andrew’s hand and then at the door. A second later, he pulls a set of lockpicks from who knows where and hands them over so Andrew can open it. He doesn’t know when they started communicating without words. Maybe it was always like that and he refused to acknowledge it. Or maybe he just underestimated his rabbit’s intelligence.

When the door opens, he’s hit with a smell most people would call “homey.” For a second, his mind drifts back to that small fragment of childhood when he was happy: he’s in the kitchen with Cass, baking. It’s just the two of them in the house. Cass passes him a spoonful of meringue to lick and whispers that it’ll be their little secret.

“What are you doing here?” Aaron pulls him out of his stupor.

His sleeves are rolled up, and unlike Andrew—with the scars lining his forearms—Aaron only has clumps of flour, egg, and what Andrew assumes is cocoa.

Andrew doesn’t answer. He walks past him and into the kitchen, taking in every available surface covered in baked goods: cookies on one side, muffins, pancakes, small cakes, and in the oven another batch of… God knows what.

“Jesus, Aaron…” Kevin says, stunned. “You’re an athlete. You know what all that flour does to you.”

Aaron glares at him and goes back to his manic baking disaster, resuming whatever he was furiously whisking in a bowl.

“Stop,” Andrew says.

He watches Aaron tense and waits for the explosion. The breakup clearly hit hard, and part of Andrew can’t allow him to keep spiraling into this sugar-fueled decline. Aaron needs to vent everything he’s holding inside at someone, and Andrew has always been good at provoking his little brother—if you don’t believe it, ask Hilda.

Aaron tightens his grip around the whisk, and Andrew braces for impact. He feels Neil tense behind him and Kevin subtly move out of the potential blast zone of anything within reach of the Minyard twins.

Aaron moves fast, and the next thing Andrew sees is a tray. Not flying at his face—but a tray full of small chocolate cupcakes.

“What?” is all he manages.

Aaron sighs and splits one open. Something white spills out from the center.

“Marshmallow cream.”

He holds the tray closer. Andrew takes one and slowly brings it to his mouth, half-expecting it to be poisoned—and if it is, giving Aaron time to stop him. When nothing happens, he takes a bite. Flavor explodes across his tongue.

He hears Kevin launching into a lecture but doesn’t process a word. When he looks up, Aaron is offering him a strange-looking muffin that somehow still looks good.

“Whole wheat. The only sugar in it is from the apple.”

Kevin takes it suspiciously and bites in. His pupils practically dilate like he’s high.

“Fine. You can keep going—but this is the last batch tonight. We have morning practice,” Kevin says before leaving.

Andrew feels Neil’s stare on his back.

“You can go,” Andrew tells him.

Neil does—though not before grabbing a cookie from the nearest tray and dodging the wooden spoon Aaron throws at him.

“I’ll be waiting in the bedroom, Drew,” Neil says, unnecessary and clearly meant to provoke Aaron. It makes Andrew smile faintly on the inside.

He tries to figure out how to tell Aaron he really needs to stop—that a mountain of sugar won’t fix anything, that he should sleep, cry, listen to sad music, or whatever straight people are supposed to do after a breakup. But he doesn’t know how to say any of it without directly admitting that he cares. Because obviously, he doesn’t care. He’s Andrew Minyard. The bigger monster. He doesn’t have feelings.

After a few minutes, Aaron pulls cinnamon rolls from the oven and spreads the glaze he’d been making over them. He lets out a breath and leans against the counter, facing his brother.

“Done.”

Andrew nods, unsure whether that means he’s done baking or done unraveling. Aaron must notice the confusion, because he starts speaking again.

“I’m not going to say she’s evil or that women always hurt people, because that’s not true. She hurt me with what she did, but she’s not a bad person. It hurt, but I’m getting over it. And if I have to bake until one in the morning to reach that conclusion, then I will. I did. And I don’t regret it.”

“Do you mean dating the cheerleader or baking yourself into oblivion?” Andrew asks before he can stop himself.

“Both.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Silence stretches between them. They look at each other, and neither feels uncomfortable.

“I don’t know where you’re planning to put all this. I’m pretty sure not even all the Foxes combined could eat that much sugar,” Andrew says, breaking the moment. This isn’t how they’re supposed to be. Their dynamic is sharp edges, jabs, resentment. Not… this.

A quiet laugh slips from Aaron.

“No fucking clue. Maybe I can feed half of Fox Tower breakfast with this.”

“Yeah, you probably could… But these are mine,” Andrew says, gesturing to the cupcakes from earlier. It’s not a question.

“Obviously.” Aaron sets a cinnamon roll beside Andrew’s pile. “That one’s for Bee. I’d like to schedule an individual session tomorrow… if that’s okay.”

Andrew nods, silently grateful that his brother is choosing help instead of falling apart over that vixen.

“Good night, Aaron.”

As he’s about to leave, he hears Aaron call from the kitchen.

“Good night, Andrew. And thanks for coming.”

For reasons he doesn’t care to analyze, warmth spreads through his chest in a way that feels almost sickening—similar to when Neil takes his hand, when Kevin positions himself at Andrew’s side, or when Nicky seeks him out just to talk. After all, Aaron is family. And Andrew will always make sure he’s safe.

The next morning, he receives a text from Aaron:

“IF YOUR BOYFRIEND DOESN’T GET HIS HANDS OFF MY FOOD I’M CUTTING THEM OFF.”

Andrew smiles—this time openly—while offering Neil a cupcake.

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