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It’s been four years since the same guy who shoved an Exy racquet into Neil’s ribs on their first encounter, curled a hand around his neck and told him to stay.
It’s been four years since Neil Josten joined the PSU Foxes. It’s been four years since Nathaniel Wesninski survived Riko Moriyama and the Butcher of Baltimore. Neil Josten barely survived.
It’s been four years since Drake, and since Andrew Minyard told Neil Josten in a club in Colombia- doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.
It’s been four years since it all started, and now Neil Josten is sitting at Andrew Minyard’s graduation, and he's fucking terrified of being alone.
Well, saying that it was Andrew’s graduation, would imply that Andrew was there. He wasn’t. Neil hadn’t bothered to try to talk to Andrew about it- Andrew would do what he wanted, anyway.
Neil’s sitting in the back row, looking on as the graduates line up. He could see Nicky’s curly hair and dark skin. He could barely see Aaron. I’m fine, Neil says to himself- he could get through the last year of college by himself.
But, but, if he was being completely honest with himself- he doesn’t know if he could make it.
Would Andrew even care about Neil after college? Was this just a college-fling?
The panic is fraying the edge of Neil’s mind, but it’s only when they reach Aaron Minyard, that Neil bolts up from his seat and runs.
His mind is blank, and he’s on the edge of a panic attack and he runs and runs, and when he stops- he’s at the Fox Tower.
He doesn’t want to be here- he wants to just get out of here- go Colombia or just anywhere that’s not here because he doesn’t want to deal with Andrew leaving.
He decides to take a chance going to his room because most likely Andrew’s on the rooftop. He bolts up the stairs, two at a time, already cataloguing in his mind- two jeans, maybe one shorts. I could always buy new clothes. My PSU jacket- no that’s too obvious. A few plain jerseys. Fuck. What about my racquet-
His mind is on a whirl as he bursts into the dorm room, and it’s empty as expected. He grabs the duffel bag that he hadn’t unpacked from their last Away Exy match. He runs over to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and taking a deep breath. And then he sees Andrew.
The five-foot menace is sitting on the bed, shirtless, and he’s staring down at his hands.
The sight grounds Neil for just a second, before Andrew’s eyes slide up, slowly, starting from feet- legs- groin- bag in his hands- chest- neck- then eyes. There’s no expression. “Going somewhere?”
Neil has to fight back tears for the first time in- forever. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, and he just wants to run and run and run and at the same time Andrew’s here and he wants to stay.
“Say something.” Neil’s voice is shaking, and he hates that he’s gotten so comfortable around Andrew that he can’t even keep his emotions in check. Even more, he hates that Andrew can.
Andrew’s gaze is impassive. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me to stay- or just fucking say something, Andrew! Because it’s been four years, and you can’t fucking tell me that this is still- nothing- to you. Pl-," he just barely stops himself from saying the word Andrew hated so much. "Andrew, I- I don’t know how I’m going to make it through my last year without you. You’ve been here for the past four years- and everyone’s left me and now you’re leaving and fuck!” Neil threw the full duffel bag across the room and Andrew doesn’t flinch.
He just stands fluidly, and Neil just tracks his movements- he can’t help himself. “Where are you going to go?” Andrew deadpans.
Neil keeps his heavy stare as if there aren’t tears shimmering at the bottom of his eyes. “Does it matter? Andrew, I’ve never asked for anything more than you want to give- I- I just need something, anything-”
Andrew steps forward, golden eyes capturing ice blue ones. “Yes, or no, junkie?”
Neil almost breathes a sigh of relief as his pulse hammers in his chest. He hasn’t fucked up yet.
“Yes, Andrew,” he murmurs quietly. “It’s always yes.”
Andrew curls his fingers around the back of his neck and kisses him. Neil kisses him hard, before leaning back to rest their foreheads together. “I’m scared,” he murmurs. He’s scared that he gets a panic attack during the night and he won’t have anyone there for him. He’s scared that he’ll need to get away and he won’t have anywhere to go. He’s scared that he’ll need Andrew and Andrew won’t be there.
“I know.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I know.”
And something unfurls in Neil’s stomach and he just has to say it to Andrew, just once, just to get it out there, so Andrew will know. Andrew needs to know.“Andrew, I lo-”
Andrew clamps a hand over Neil’s mouth. “I know,” Andrew states, and Neil wants to slap himself, because he’s so, so stupid, how could he even think that Andrew would forget about him.
Andrew kisses him again, and pleasure thrums through Neil’s veins, the kiss turning desperate and wild, before Neil pulling back, panting heavily. “Where can I touch you?”
Andrew’s gaze is weighty. Only once before has Andrew said everywhere. It was on Nathaniel Wesninski’s twentieth birthday, and Neil had been a mess, and Andrew was there for him. Why was Neil such an idiot?
“Everywhere,” Andrew says again, before continuing. “Besides my ass.”
Neil hides the grin, clamping his hands on Andrew’s shoulders and dragging him into another kiss. Andrew’s hand lands heavily on Neil’s groin, and Neil can’t stop the soft groan that escapes- he can’t hide the shudder that passes through him as Andrew presses down the palm of his hand.
“Andrew,” Neil murmurs, carding his hands through the blonde’s hair, tugging it lightly and tilting his head, before biting down gently on his neck. Andrew’s fingers tighten on Neil’s member, before he drops to his knees, looking up at Neil. Neil whispers a soft yes, before Andrew unzips his pants, pushing it down with his boxers. Neil takes off his jersey, standing proudly in front of Andrew, the one person to whom he’d never felt ashamed about showing his scars.
Andrew looks unimpressed, before swallowing Neil hotly, and Neil chokes out a gasp, head thumping against the door. Andrew’s hands are sliding up, up, up his body, over his chest, feeling the bumps of his scars. Neil buries both of his hands in Andrew’s hair as Andrew swallows him over and over and goosebumps litter Neil’s skin.
“Fuck, Andrew,” he whispers, nails scratching Andrew’s skull lightly. Neil has to restrain his hips from moving, but Andrew’s tongue is pressing against the tip, sliding to the vein on the underside of his dick, and Neil can’t stop the jolt of his hips. “Fuck,” Neil curses, and his hands tighten in Andrew’s hair as Andrew’s fingers brush against Neil’s nipples, tweaking them slightly and making Neil moan.
Andrew pulls off Neil’s dick, standing, gesturing to the bed. “Sit against the wall.”
Neil frowns, but complies, leaving Andrew standing there. Andrew’s staring at his hands again and this time Neil is in enough of a mindset to see that his fingers are shaking.
“Andrew,” he says softly, and Andrew snaps out of it. He pushes down his sweats and underwear, palming himself as he regards Neil. Neil feels a twinge of lust under Andrew’s gaze. Andrew takes off his armbands, before climbing on the bed and straddling Neil’s legs.
Neil can’t tear his gaze away and Andrew kisses him. He’s asking yes or no, and before Neil could breathe out it’s been four fucking years that I’ve been telling you yes, asshole, let’s get on with it, Andrew leans back, his throat working, eyes unreadable.
“I’m going to ride you. Yes or no?”
Neil’s gone, his breath escaping in a sharp gasp. He’s speechless. He stares up at Andrew whose eyes are fixated on the bullet wound on Neil’s shoulder. “Andrew- are you sure?”
This has never happened before- why would it? But now Andrew’s waiting for an answer and Neil can’t breathe.
“Yes. Or. No.” Andrew bites out, and Neil swallows hard, but he already knows what his answer is going to be.
“You know it’s always yes, Andrew. What about you?” Neil tilts Andrew’s chin up to meet his eyes, letting him know that Neil would be fine without this- if Andrew wanted to stop, he could, Neil wouldn’t hold anything against him.
Andrew looks annoyed. “It’s a yes, junkie.”
He moves up to a crouch, taking a deep breath, and Neil splays his hand on Andrew’s neck, thumb resting lightly on Andrew’s pulse point. Andrew holds Neil’s cock, situating it under him, but Neil stops him.
“Don’t you need preparing first?” Neil asks worriedly, and Andrew rolls his eyes, before sinking down easily on Neil’s member, and Neil forgets how to breathe.
Andrew’s dizzyingly tight heat comes with a realisation- Andrew had anticipated that Neil was going to have a breakdown- He’d prepped himself, and sat there waiting for Neil’s breakdown. And now he was putting Neil back together the only way he knew how. He didn’t have words, but he still said more than Neil ever would.
“Fuck,” Neil buries himself in Andrew’s neck. “Fuck, are you okay?”
He can feel Andrew’s pulse racing under his thumb. “Just,” Andrew breathes heavily, eyes lidded as he exhales. “Give me a second.”
Neil nods against Andrew’s skin, before nipping at his neck, softly murmuring the three words that Andrew didn’t want to hear before. Andrew’s fingers tighten on Neil’s shoulder, and he starts to move.
Neil mutters another curse – and his hands slide down to Andrew’s hips. Andrew wraps a hand around Neil’s neck as he grinds down and Neil whimpers because Andrew's hole is tight and it feels so fucking good.
Andrew squeezes lightly, choking him, and Neil doesn’t react- he trusts Andrew, and the blond leans in, stalling his hips for a bit. “You’re mine,” he breathes into Neil’s face, and Neil’s heart crashes and explodes. “Don’t ever fucking forget that.”
And he kisses Neil, more as if he was trying to shut himself up and less like he was trying to get the stupid look off Neil’s face.
He tugs at the small hairs at the back of Neil’s head, and Neil turns slightly, kissing his scars softly. Andrew’s gaze darkens, before pressing down and gyrating his hips, and Neil groans. “Fuck, Andrew, you feel so good,” he whispers, fingers digging in, and Andrew’s hips start moving desperately, pressing down and pushing and Neil’s head is thrown back because the heat is going to drive him crazy.
Andrew shifts onto his knees, and a groan slips out. Neil’s spine tingles at the low sound – and Andrew’s eyebrows are furrowed as he rests their foreheads together. “God, Andrew- how do you survive this, I can’t breathe,” Neil’s hands frame Andrew’s face, holding him in place, and Andrew laughs gustily, not stopping his hips.
“Someone’s enjoying topping,” Neil doesn’t see Andrew’s smirk but he knows it’s there.
Neil rolls his eyes, before snapping his hips up quickly to slam into Andrew, and another groan escapes Andrew, and he glares at Neil, who smiles cheekily. “Someone’s enjoying bottoming,” Neil grins innocently, and Andrew sighs, kissing him to shut up.
Andrew speeds up his movements, and Neil moans, cursing under his breath. Neil takes Andrew’s cock in his hand, passing a thumb over the slit and Andrew shudders, a soft fuck falling out of his mouth. His hand speeds up, and he kisses Andrew, who has a tight grip in his soft auburn curls.
“Fuck,” the word is more audible now out of Andrew’s mouth, and he doesn’t stop gyrating but he’s coming, his kisses hard and hand practically yanking at Neil’s hair.
The constriction around Neil’s cock is too much and he groans out Andrew’s name as he comes, whimpering into Andrew’s mouth. “God, Andrew,” he murmurs, and Andrew just kisses him, sliding his tongue against Neil’s, tilting his head and deepening the kiss.
It’s a few moments before he pulls back, getting off Neil’s cock slowly, and there’s a small, just a slight wince, and Neil’s heart drops. Now he knows what it felt like the first time they had sex, and Neil couldn’t hide the fact that he just had a small twinge of pain, and Andrew had almost lost it- not at Neil but at himself.
He remembers what he’d said to Andrew- he’d lost count of how many times he’d said it before, but he still repeated it- You’re not like them, Andrew. I won’t let you be.
“Andrew,” his voice breaks a little as Andrew stands, wiping himself off with Neil's shirt before tossing it to him to wipe off. Neil does, before dragging himself to sit on the edge of the bed. Andrew ignores him, shoving his legs into sweats, yanking them up. “Andrew, please-“
Andrew pulls on his armbands. “You’re not like them,” he says, and Neil stares at him. “You never will be.”
Neil swallows, pressing the back of his hand to his trembling mouth because- fuck Andrew for doing this to him. Fuck Andrew, because with all his impassive glares and you’re nothing’s, he could still hold Neil together at a few words.
He stands, pulling on sweats as Andrew goes over to the dresser and opens a drawer, tossing two items on the bed, before taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Neil frowns, and he picks up first a box from the sheets, frowning at it. It was a smartphone, and when Neil looks up, Andrew’s waving a similar smartphone at him.
“Figured you’re done with that the crappy phone you have,” Andrew drawls.
Neil smiles lightly. “Expect a shit ton of selfies.”
Andrew rolls his eyes. He says nothing, but that says everything. Neil knows what this means – if he’s having a bad night, and a simple call wouldn’t be enough, a video call should do the trick. Can’t exactly do that with a crappy flip phone.
He takes a drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke in Neil’s direction. And when Neil looks down at the sheets for the second item, his heart drops.
It’s a silver key, resting gently against the sheets. Neil picks it up, almost afraid, holding it gently in his hand. He doesn’t know what it’s for- he has one for the house in Colombia- one for Andrew’s Maserati. When he turns over the key, there’s a logo inscribed on the back, and Neil looks up with a frown. “A Lexus?”
Andrew shrugs noncommittally. “You’ll need a way to come to Colombia.” The 'when you need to get away' remains unspoken. “You can’t expect me to do all the driving every weekend.”
Every weekend. Neil’s hand curls around the keys so tightly, it digs into his flesh, but he doesn’t care as he stalks over to Andrew and smashes their lips together feverishly, Neil inhaling the smoke, and breathing Andrew in.
“Thank you,” Neil whispers. Andrew rolls his eyes again and shoves him away lightly, putting the cigarette back between his lips.
“409%, junkie,” Neil grins widely, taking the cigarette from Andrew’s mouth, and takes a drag.
“How long do you reckon it’ll take me to get to 500%?” Neil smiles cheekily as Andrew lights another cigarette, glaring at him.
“Keep this shit up, and you won’t live long enough to get anywhere near it.”
“By the way,” Neil blows smoke in Andrew’s face. “How’d you pay for the Lexus?”
“I didn’t” Andrew has a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You did. It was the most expensive car that they had available immediately.”
Neil huffs dramatically, before kissing Andrew’s forehead, laughing as Andrew pushes him off impatiently. “Still. Thank you."