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    Summary

    "You're seriously still watching this shit."

    Neil turns away from Matt's latest game, blinking his eyes when he realizes how dry they are.
    Andrew's eyebrows are furrowed minutely; his lips drawn in a tight small line. His anger, though, has always lived in his eyes. Eyes that are currently piercing, a cold dark fury that makes Neil sit up straighter automatically.

    "They're our first match for playoffs, and his team is good," Neil says. Andrew's anger weighs down his face further, which Neil expected.
    Matt's team is good, but their offensive line is extremely weak, and with the season Andrew's been having, with the fact it's their first season together on the same team...it's insulting to insinuate that their team will lose.

    Neil was hoping it would be enough to goad Andrew into admitting he cares about the insult to his skill, but Andrew remains stony in his silence. Neil sighs, turning back to the TV when Andrew drops squarely into his lap, straddling his thighs.

    Language:
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