#Twenty minutes later Andrew gets a text informing him that Kevin is coming

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 22

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Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.

You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?

That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.

This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.

Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.

This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!

That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.

(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)

He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.

“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.

Well….Andrew’s version of nice.

(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)

Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.

Ow.

That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.

“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.

A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.

Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.

Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.

Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.

He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.

He needs to take his mind off this.

“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.

Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.

“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.

“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?

STAB HIM?

“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.

“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.

He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.

“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.

“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.

“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.

FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.

“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.

“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.

They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.

“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!

“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.

Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“

“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.

Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.

He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.

“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.

“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.

Aw.

Andrew is just so nice.

He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.

He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.

Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.

“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.

“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.

***

The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.

Those are his father’s goons.

“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”

They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”

Neil can find out the full story later.

The important part is.

“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.

“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.

“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.

“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.

“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.

“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.

He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.

“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.

In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.

FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.

“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.

“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.

They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.

Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.

Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.

Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.

“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.

Both Andrew and Neil freeze.

Fuck.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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#Fluent Freshman AU #Andrew: Smith is in the hospital. #Wymack (half awake): What did you do #Andrew: He got stabbed #Wymack: I thought you LIKED Smith #Wymack: Whatever admit to nothing I'm on my way #Twenty minutes later Andrew gets a text informing him that Kevin is coming #Andrew: Great just great #FF is having the time of his life in the ambulance #They gave him something for his pain #FF: You get what I mean right? Like that was a funny line since it's about Miss Congeniality? #EMT: Now that I understand the context that's a solid joke #FF: THANK YOU. #FF: I can't BELIEVE none of those cops got it #FF: I was so glad you loaded me in here because I thought I was going to die of shame when no one laughed #EMT: Well we wouldn't want that #EMT: How's your pain by. the way buddy? #FF: Wow four friends in one night. I am on a ROLL. #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG Fic #Andreil #AFTG AU #My Fic #FF - Part 22

[c-valentino]

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug X

“Alright, wrap it up! That’s it for today!” Their coach was clapping his hands as he entered through the plexiglass door, ending their training. Kevin stood behind him, taking on the role of an assistant coach once more for the duration of his recovery. “Hit the showers and get out of here! –Minyard!” Andrew made his way over from the goal unhurriedly. “A word.” Hazel eyes looked between his coach and Kevin, settling on the team’s captain, until Kevin got the hint and left.

  “Coach?” Andrew leaned against the wall next to the door, racquet in hand.

  “How is that investigation coming along? Any news?” The whole team was worried about losing their best goalkeeper. Coach Mathews was the first besides Kevin to ask.

  “You know as much as I do, Coach.”

  “At least try to lie convincingly, Minyard. Show a little respect once in a while.” Maybe he should. Maybe he should step up his game and learn from a particular young man he was seeing lately.

  “Yes, Coach.”

  Mathews sighed and waved him off. “Get out of here.” Andrew made it past the door before he added, “We lost this season, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate players with a drug problem. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” Andrew said monotonously. His coach was not an idiot. They had some kind of arrangement. Andrew would stay mostly sober during the season and always play sober, even during practice, in exchange for Mathews turning a blind eye to his drug use when he was off the court. Lately, Andrew had been using more often. His coach thought that was one of the reasons why Andrew refused to play nice with the press or show up for the team’s promotions. In truth, Andrew had always been that way, but he cared even less about those things lately. It seemed more and more unimportant to him with the possibility of Kevin losing his career due to his injury. If Kevin had to quit, Andrew wouldn’t stay.

  Andrew hit the showers and got changed. Kevin was waiting for him outside, sitting on a bench next to the parking lot, where the black Maserati gleamed in the sunlight. Andrew lit a cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. He looked at the sky, inhaled deeply, and furrowed his brows. Slowly, he made his way over to Kevin. The striker looked up at him, and Andrew could already tell that his mind was set on having another of their talks. He didn’t need that right now. All he wanted was to drop Kevin off with Thea and be done with everything for today. Kevin had known him long enough to understand from just watching him that Andrew wouldn’t want to share any information today either. He sighed and let his eyes wander up the stadium, shining in the evening sun, flags fluttering on top in the wind.

  “I wish you would talk to me.” Andrew said nothing. He put one foot onto the bench beside Kevin. “Did you meet your lawyer today?”

  “I did.” It had been an early appointment. His lawyer was a snake of a man, cold-blooded and not easily intimidated. They got along. They didn’t like each other, but that was fine.

  “How did it go?” Andrew just shrugged. “You wanna come over tonight,” Kevin asked carefully. Andrew hated him for offering. This was not how their deal worked. If he didn’t ask Kevin was supposed to ignore it, was supposed to trust Andrew in handling his own business.

  “No.” The goalkeeper crushed his cigarette under his foot and unlocked the car.

  “You know…”

  “Kevin, get in and shut up.” Andrew waited for his team captain to stand up, before they made their way over to the car. As soon as the Maserati came to life around them, Andrew turned up the volume of the stereo and didn’t turn it down again until he left Kevin in front of Thea’s house.

  At home, Andrew made himself something to eat and ignored the team’s group chat popping up on his phone. They would meet at a bar tonight; he would not join them. He had other things on his mind, one being a certain black-haired guy who called himself Neil. ‘You can call me Neil…’ He wondered what the man’s name really was.

  Thinking back on their last encounter, Andrew was sure Neil had chosen to misunderstand his meaning when he had told the man that he didn’t want him to turn their business arrangement into something else. He had wanted to make clear that he was not interested in the whole BDSM scene and did not want to be a part of it. Neil had chosen to take it as a rebuke for showing up uninvited. What a fool. If that had been the case, Andrew wouldn’t have let him in in the first place. In fact, it had surprised him to see Neil a second time that night. He had liked it, he admitted to himself. That had been unexpected too. Normally, he would not have wanted company on a night like that. Not while Drake had been fresh on his mind. It had been different with Neil and that was as surprising as it was interesting.

  Andrew enjoyed the company of the man, simple as that. He wanted to see who Neil really was behind his acting. He wanted to know how much of him was real. Problem was, he might have to cancel their meetings for a while. At least the next one. It was not uncommon for him to lose his sex drive after what he called ‘a drug-induced encounter with Drake’. This could last for a while, and he had no way of knowing for how long. Even touching himself had felt off this morning when he had reached down experimentally. His mind just wasn’t up for it right now. That would change again. He wasn’t worried. It wasn’t a new thing.

    ‘Hey’  Neil sighed and tapped the phone against his thigh. Three letters, one simple word, and it had taken him twenty minutes to work up the nerve to text Andrew this time. It wasn’t just the way they had ended their last meeting –him running away– it was the way their relationship had evolved in his mind that made him feel uneasy about the whole situation. He had gone too far.

  He could see the three dots almost immediately. Andrew was still awake. He didn't respond though. Neil sighed again and let the phone fall from his hand. He rubbed a hand over his face. Although it was already late, it was Saturday night and people were still up and about. Somewhere down the street, a bottle crashed against a wall, and Neil heard someone laughing and someone else screaming. His neighborhood was pretty shitty, but even shitty was still expensive and he couldn't afford to waste money. More screams. Someone would call the cops soon. Not him. He avoided them whenever possible. He would never rely on them. Neil stared at his dark ceiling, listened to the city outside his window. Someone was getting beaten up. The sound was familiar. He could make out at least three people without looking. Maybe four, he thought. His phone buzzed.

  ‘what’ Nearly ten minutes had passed. Neil had so many questions. ‘Are you alright’ was the loudest of them all but he couldn't ask. It was not his place.

  ‘Still Tuesday?’ He needed to know. Again Andrew wrote something he didn't send. The three dots disappeared again.

  ‘I’ll let you know’ three minutes later. A fucking maybe. This was worse than a no. Had he fucked up so badly? Was Andrew still angry with him? This felt so wrong.

  “You are killing me,” he said out loud. He typed ‘alright’ but erased it. Maybe Andrew had seen it because he wrote something else.

  ‘go to sleep.’ Meaning he shouldn't wait for a reply tonight. Yeah, got that message already. Thanks for spelling it out.

  ‘Can’t. My nose hurts, can’t breathe.’ It was pure spite. He allowed himself this much because Andrew was fucking with his brain, and he wanted to get back at him somehow. 

  ‘you have a big mouth. figure it out’  “Hmpf.” That actually made him smile. He wondered if Andrew had taken something again, imagined him being at home getting high. He turned onto his side, tried once more to calm down enough to fall asleep. Pointless.

  ‘Yours is pretty skilled too.’ A drugged Andrew would surely have something to say to that.

  ‘is your mind always down in the gutter’ More and more lately. It was something new Neil had noticed. It was odd and distracting. It wasn’t unheard of, of course. A young man like him should have the desire for sex. Why not? There was nothing wrong with him physically, but the fact that he had suppressed that urge for so long made it seem normal not to think about it. His job made his detachment with the matter even greater. Meeting Andrew had changed that.

  ‘Is yours?’ Did Andrew still look at him and see a prostitute? Only that? Did it matter to him? How easily could he replace him, and would that work vice-versa? No, Neil decided, he couldn’t replace Andrew. It was not like the man had woken his slumbering urges. Neil wouldn’t go out and look for a hook-up. He didn’t want to.

  ‘no’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind returning the favor.’ If you would let me. Normally he hated this kind of talk. It came with the job but with Andrew he didn't mind. He was actually honest about it.

  ‘it’s not a favor, and you left your money’ There it was again. He had overstepped his boundaries and his client pushed him back. Get a grip, his mind hissed.

  ‘You can give it to me on Tuesday.’ Andrew had nothing to say to that. Neil argued with himself for the longest time before he added: ‘I like the sober you better.’ His heart rate went up after he sent it. He had to wait a little for his reply.

  ‘he’s not here to give a fuck’ Neil turned the screen off, turned onto his back and put an arm over his eyes. His chest ached.

      Tuesday came and with it came Andrew’s response in the morning. ‘not tonight’  Neil had woken up an hour later. Either Andrew woke up very early this morning, or he hadn’t slept at all. He had sent the message at 5:45am. Neil turned his phone off. He knew he would check it all day otherwise, just in case Andrew had changed his mind. He wouldn’t. And it wouldn’t do to push him.

  Neil sat on his windowsill, coffee in hand, and looked down at the empty street. Is it some kind of praise thing, he wondered. Because I displeased him, I want to make it up to him? It makes me feel like crap. Maybe it’s because I hurt him when I pushed him. He couldn’t get it out of his head, the picture of Andrew kneeling over him, freezing, choking on that dreadful sound that had come from his mouth… He pushed the memory away.

  Once more he asked himself where he was going with this. Why did he allow himself to risk the stability in his life for one man he didn’t even know? Maybe it was because of the life he lived. It wasn’t worth much to him in the first place. It was far from perfect; it was nothing like he had imagined it when he had been younger and full of Exy dreams. But it was still his life, and actually staying in one place felt like the right move for the first time. You know it won’t last.

  Neil decided it was time to slip into the role of the nameless customer, ordering Roland’s special tonight. It might take his mind off things.

     When Andrew opened the door, he already knew who was waiting there for him. Allison was dressed in a tight black dress and black heels that made her even taller and made him look up, just to meet her eyes. She looked like business. It made her smell like contracts and signed lines at the bottom of the page. She looked like a million bucks, and she had the confidence to pull it off. He wasn’t into women, but he recognized beauty when he saw it. Allison would make heads turn tonight.

  “Coach sent me,” she said in way of greeting. “I’m your date tonight.”

  He did not look like he would need a date tonight. He had just finished a workout, was sweating allover, unshaven, and wasn’t even trying to look pleased to see her.

  “I’m not going,” he told her. It was a charity event. The whole team was invited, their names adding a youthful attraction to the list of fame and money, luring in more guests to raise money for orphaned children.

  “Yes, yes, can we skip this part? You refusing to go and me telling you that you have no choice. And don’t pull the orphan card on me, Minyard. I know you don’t care. But they do. You add authenticity to the whole thing. People love that.” She looked him up and down. “It’s in your contract, Andrew. You know how many events you have to attend each season. You’ve skipped all of them so far.”

  His face was a mask that didn’t crack. If she hadn’t known him, she would think he wasn’t listening. But Andrew was always listening.

  “What if I promise that we won’t stay long? Work with me, Minyard. Let’s just get this over with. Let’s stay for the champagne and sneak out when the bidding starts.” She knew what he was thinking. What’s in it for me? She had talked to Kevin, and they both agreed that Andrew was getting more and more unstable. Kevin’s injury had dealt him a blow he might not recover from until it was too late.

  “Name it,” she told him. His price for tonight’s event. She was here to play both sides. She would make sure Andrew would show up and keep coach Mathews happy, and she would also make sure Andrew would not violate his contract and stay on the team for his own good. He might not care, might not even care years later, but she would take care of him right now. Someone had to. He was doing a piss-poor job of it himself.

  “You have nothing to offer,” he said.

  “Don’t I? There is a file in my office that says I do. You should be more careful who you invite to your bedroom, Andrew. I must say, you got me curious the moment I saw him sitting in your living room. He’s cute.” She smiled like dripping honey, slow and sweet, but her words were acid.

  He blinked slowly, like a cat, staring at her. In his mind he imagined grabbing her slender neck, choking her, pushing her backwards until she hit the wall behind her. He imagined the choked noises she’d make, her nails clawing at his hand, how they would slip under his sleeves and scratch there, too close to his scars. He’d grab her wrists then…

  “Blackmail?” He feigned boredom. It was convincing, was part of his character. She couldn’t know that a simple prostitute had gotten under his skin.

  “No,” she answered, laughing a little. “I’m not a masochist, silly. Do you think I’m stupid? Come on. I’m bribing you. Make it worth your while. You really want to know what I’ve found.” Her smile got wider, more cheerful. He said nothing for a few heartbeats. “You think I’m lying?” she asked then.

  “No,” he replied and stepped aside to let her in.

  “So, tonight… Get cleaned up, will you? I know you’re gay, but I can see every muscle underneath that sweat-dripping shirt and I’m hopelessly underfucked. It’s not fair.”

  “TMI,” he mumbled and closed the door behind her.

    Andrew Minyard and Allison Reynolds stepped into the room, causing heads to turn their way. They were both dressed all in black, the only contrast being their two different shades of blond hair and pale skin. He looked even smaller than usual at her side, but her slenderness and his powerful frame kept it from looking comical.

  She noticed his displeasure from the sudden overwhelming attention and said in a low voice, “You do clean up nicely.”

  “That dress will solve your lack of eager potential husbands,” he answered flatly.

  “Was that a compliment? I couldn’t tell.”

  “Neither could I.” They mingled with the crowd and spotted Kevin and Thea almost immediately. The tall striker was hard to miss. Kevin looked relieved to see Andrew, causing the goalkeeper to shoot him an annoyed glare. Things had been so much easier when Kevin had been too scared for his own life to worry about him. “I’m out of here in thirty minutes,” he told her.

  “Make it forty five and we have a deal.”

  He gave her a mock-salute, grabbed one of the champagne glasses from one of the waiters and withdrew to the wall in the back of the room, next to a window. Showing up here was part of the deal, making conversation wasn’t. He could see that Kevin wanted to follow him by the way the striker turned his head to keep an eye on him, but Kevin was always the center of attention and Andrew would be seriously annoyed if he would drag him into it. No one wanted to witness that. He would slip outside when the attention gathered on the stage in front of the room and the charity auction began. He couldn’t wait. 

   In the end it took almost an hour for the party to proceed to the main event that evening. Andrew  locked eyes with Allison one finale time, taking her approving smile as dismissal –not caring if it wasn’t –and left without another word. He thought about going home but that seemed like a waste now that he was already dressed up and outside. A short trip to Eden’s sounded like the better idea.

 <<Chapter 9                                                                                                 Chapter 11>>

#andreil #fanfiction #andrew minyard #neil josten #lntycm #all for the game #aftg #tfc fanfic