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c-valentino · 7 years

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Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XV.I

A/N: This chapter is a little heavier on Andrew's side, including the requested insight into his last encounter with Neil in front of the apartment building. Enjoy the ride.

The lyrics are from one of my favorite songs. Ella Walker's voice is simply beautiful! Go check her out ;)

I’ve spent too long lying, And now I’m trying to hurt you. But you’ve seen me bare, You’ve seen me covered up Maybe I’m not scared What you’re thinking of You’ve seen me here And held me miles away, Underneath my skin Is all you’ll see today.

Wildes - Bare

15.1

He was in every sense undeniably, irrevocably and thoroughly fucked. Andrew took a moment to admit the fact to himself, inhaling it with the smoke of yet another cigarette before watching it drift lazily towards the ceiling. He sat on his sofa, head and upper arms resting on the back, legs comfortably spread, thoughts sharp but skipping through all his options. It was way past midnight. Neil left hours ago, had escaped, had run away –from him, again. He could have kept him here, of course, but he had decided to let him run. It had been a gut decision, and so far it seemed the right choice. Neil wasn’t out of his reach and he had things to consider, new information to process and moves to plan.

‘You got it backwards… Kevin knows me… I can’t let him find me.’ Everything about that had screamed truth at him at that moment. The moment he had mentioned Riko Moriyama he had seen the recognition on Neil’s face, the fear, so much like the way the name made Kevin flinch. Not his, then, not Riko’s. He had been wrong. Who are you? Where have you been? How are you involved? What do you want from me? Questions with no answers. So intriguing.

He could ask Kevin. Simple as that. Dig up a past Neil wanted to bury. The man obviously hadn’t dug deep enough, was still trying to throw more dirt on top. You could see it under his fingernails if you looked closely enough. Maybe he would have to ask Kevin. Andrew didn’t particularly want to though. This was his puzzle. Now that he was reasonably sure that Neil was no threat to Kevin he could take his time with the whole matter and take it apart piece by piece.

These were the facts: Neil’s name wasn’t Neil Josten. He was the same young man they had wanted to meet back in Millport; an Exy player who had gotten the attention of none other than Kevin Day with his undeniable ability to spot raw talent from a mile away. Neil was working as a prostitute and had given up his Exy career. Someone was searching for him.

Things that were almost certain at this point: Neil’s obsession with Exy was real, probably to the same degree as Kevin’s. Kevin had known Neil Josten before they had flown out to Millport but hadn’t recognized the young man. Which made it likely that they had met as kids –which meant Evermore, which would explain why Riko Moriyama had left an impression.

So… a raven fledgling that had fled the nest? How likely was that? The Moriyamas guarded their secrets well; he would need insider information to confirm that idea –Kevin, maybe Moreau.

Andrew accepted it as his working theory for the time being. But that only took care of Neil’s past. He could entertain that thought and bring it to the present: Neil had fled the raven’s nest, but had continued to play Exy during school until they had spotted him at Millport High. He ran away again, from Kevin that time, and quit Exy. For whatever reason, he ended up as a prostitute and was pursuing that trade for over a year now in this city. Roland had introduced Neil to him because they had briefly talked about him looking for a suitable partner to confront his issues with. But that was such a huge fucking coincidence that Andrew couldn’t really wrap his mind around it.

And there was another problem, maybe the biggest of all. Somewhere along the way he had developed feelings for Neil. He needed to accept that and add it to his fact list. Reading the file he had gotten from Allison, noticing the discrepancies in Neil’s past, the lack of information, the secrets, his connection to Millport, and his false assumption that Riko had his hands in the whole matter to get back at Kevin had clouded his judgment. He had felt betrayed, had feared being the instrument of his friend’s downfall, the friend whom he promised to protect. It had turned his feelings for Neil into something twisted and ugly, had made him lash out and attack the man. And now, it turned out, at least part of it had been a misunderstanding. Oh, how he hated that word but here it was. A real, fucking undeniable misunderstanding.

Say it, Minyard, he told himself. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve managed to push away the only guy who got remotely close to you in years.

And why? Because he wouldn’t accept the fact that he could find someone to get close to. That maybe he wasn’t too damaged after all. Neil had been willing; there was no denying it. He wasn’t blind. He had wanted to see it as part of an act though, a scheme. But maybe it wasn’t. And truth be told he didn’t fool himself. He didn’t think of it as true love. But it had been something –on both sides. Exy fanboyism or simple physical attraction –or not? What about the whole asexual thing? Maybe another lie…– But there had been something on Neil’s side. Phone calls, texting, an unexpected visit in the middle of the night… Neil had been reaching out to him. It could have been a trap. Could have. Probability: 40:60 –not good enough. He needed to know. Fucking Neil Josten or whatever his name really was and his obnoxious habit of lying. How could he be interested in a pathological liar of all people?

And now he had ruined it. How beautiful it had been though… Revealing Neil’s true colors, his rage, his violent streak, his simmering temper that could conflagrate in seconds… it had been captivating. Very much like Kevin, there was an entirely different man hidden below a layer of choking fear, and Andrew wanted to see everything part of him. Worth it, he decided, pushing Neil had been worth it. To see that, he could not bring himself to regret it. He couldn’t let him go. Maybe he would not be able to repair the damage that had been done between them, but Andrew needed to see Neil again at least one more time.

Outside the window of his living room the sky shifted colors. The city was about to wake. Time to go.

The streets were pleasantly empty this early. The black car took him once more into that godforsaken neighborhood Neil had chosen to live in. He parked the car across the street and leaned back in his seat. This wouldn’t go down easy; there was no way it would. He needed to decide how to play this. He could admit that he had been wrong –at least partially. Apologies were not his thing. Or he could deflect the blame and turn it back on Neil and make him swallow the guilt. That one would be easier, he thought, but it was also the cowardly way out.

While he was still thinking about it Andrew saw a shadow crossing the street, a fast one. He turned his head and realized it was Neil, but it was already too late. The man raised his racquet and smashed in the window between them. The pieces scattered, raining down on him inside the car, on to the street around Neil’s feet.

“Stay away from me! Or the next time, it will be you I break!” Oh, he was furious and it looked good on him. Neil reached into his pocket and threw the money Andrew had given him back into the car. How amusing. Neil might not know it, but it was the fact that it always came down to money that had reminded Andrew that he was dealing with a hooker when he was with Neil. It hadn’t been a gentle reminder; it had been a warning sign. ‘Yours, as long as you pay for it’ and ‘someone else’s every other night’. He had accepted it most of the time. There had been moments when he had pushed against those boundaries, the times when he had asked Neil to stop seeing other clients. His refusal had always been as much relief as a sore spot. He had chosen a hooker because he couldn’t imagine having a normal relationship. He had asked his hooker to step outside of that role because he wanted more anyway. Not the whole thing, he still would have been paying for Neil after all, but something more. And Neil had hated every single moment he had been reminded of their standings. Hilarious.

“Now fuck off!” He turned around, thinking that his little outrage had scared his pursuer enough. Why he would think that was beyond Andrew. Neil hadn’t even touched him, hadn’t even used that racquet –interesting choice of a weapon really– to hurt him, after he had drawn a knife during their last encounter. Disappointing. Truth be told, he had expected a little more from the man. After all, they were past drawing first blood by now. The rules had changed. But still, he liked that wild fury on Neil’s face. Don’t tell me you are holding back for my sake, he scoffed inwardly. Oh, Neil. Don’t make that mistake. Maybe the guy needed a reminder of whom he was playing with.

Andrew got out of his car, left the door open and reached Neil before the man could vanish back inside. All the guy managed was to turn around and face him, racquet raised to defend himself, eyes widening, ready to fight. Better. Dammit, he would regret losing this one. It would cost him. Andrew grabbed the racquet with both hands and shoved Neil back against the wall, knocked the wind out of him and used his chance to kiss him, hard. He knew better than to expect Neil’s lips yielding to his right now. This was a little too close to crossing the line. Forcing himself onto someone in this way wasn’t his thing. It left a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with the man in front of him. It stung. The heat died, the thrill vanished and Andrew swallowed anger –directed at himself most of all. Neil was beyond furious by now, ready to fight back, and he would have gladly obliged him in any other situation but that ill-advised kiss had hit home. What are you doing?

Realization hit hard and Andrew shut his excitement down, closed the door on it and threw the key away. I’m not going to be like them. He shoved Neil again, harder than he had intended to, saw the pain register on that face he liked to watch more closely than any other. He let go and turned around, took three long steps back to his car, got in, started the engine, and stepped onto the gas until the Maserati roared angrily and sped down the alley.

The day after the whole team flew out to Las Vegas for another big event. The timing was less than ideal, but he had no way of getting out of it this time. One night gambling and celebrating at the casino and then they’d catch the next flight back home the following evening. He hated flying. It wasn’t just his fear of heights; it was the buzzing airports, the never-ending standing in line, the endless security checks. Leaving his knives behind always felt like a mistake. Having people in such close proximity for the better part of the day, maybe even having them patting him down because something –he couldn’t tell what, he had made sure not to carry anything made of metal on his body– had set the scanners off and his eye had twitched in annoyance. The security guy had him marked the moment it had happened. And then rinse and repeat on the way back. A nightmare.

His team had been there, of course, loud and full of energy, excited for the trip. ‘Vegas Baby!’ they had hooted more than once on their way to the airport. Andrew didn’t care about Vegas. Kevin and Allison took turns watching him, pretending otherwise and then pretending not to notice that he had caught on to their little ploy. All in all it had been two needlessly exhausting days. His mind had been preoccupied but there was a good chance no one had noticed. His team was used to his silent treatment, even more so when they were flying somewhere. Kevin might have noticed but hadn’t commented on it. He had been busy with the press most of all.

His duffle bag made it onto his bed, thrown with more force than strictly necessary, a meager outlet for his growing frustration. His apartment felt cold somehow, even though the temperature was regulated constantly. Andrew undressed on his way into the bathroom, his clothes leaving a trail in his wake, and took a shower. He had plans tonight. They couldn’t wait any longer. Neil had his respite and it was about time to remind him that the hunt was coming to an end. Andrew had used the last two days to evaluate the situation again and again. His conclusion: he couldn’t just let the man go. He wanted to solve this puzzle and catch the rabbit. Letting Neil simply vanish again was out of the question.

The water was too hot but he ignored it. At least it dealt with the unpleasant feeling of cold and lingering exhaustion in his limbs. Andrew imagined how Neil had always taken showers before he went out to meet with someone, remembered the smell of the man’s body wash and shampoo, the taste of his clean skin, the feeling of his soft yet unruly hair.

‘It’s just daydreaming. I’m sure you do it too.’ Of course he did. Having a close to perfect memory had its advantages and this was one of them.

‘You have to promise me to delete the file afterwards.’ Sure thing. He had committed it to memory the moment he saw it. Agreeing to Neil’s terms had been easy. His internal replay count was getting worryingly high.

‘What are you really thinking of?’ ‘You.’ Followed by a gasp as Neil had come undone, looking straight into the camera, at him. Andrew’s breath hitched. He leaned his forearm against the cool tiles, supporting his head as he shifted his weight forward, letting the water soak his hair and hit his shoulders.

‘Andrew, I’m so close.’ His moan echoed inside the bathroom with no one but him to hear it. ‘Andrew? Andrew. Andrew! Andrew.’ He let the shiver run down through his body, let the feeling of his knees going weak pass over him and let it all be washed away by the hot spray of the shower, before he turned around and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

His plans had gone astray when he had driven by Neil’s apartment twice that night. The place had been dark, leading to the conclusion that Neil was out, possibly with another client. Being not too worried about it, Andrew had decided to kill some time at Eden’s. Maybe asking Roland a few questions would be a good idea. But their conversation took a different turn as Roland looked at him knowingly from behind the bar and greeted him with one of his specials and a disappointed: “I had really hoped it would work out between you two.” There had been no doubt whatsoever who they were talking about, and Andrew switched gears and leaned lazily against the bar.

“Oh?” He feigned disinterest.

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I? You think I’d begrudge you any kind of pleasure? You wound me, Andrew.” Andrew just waved him off, not in the mood for theatrics at the moment.

“He’s been here, then?” Facts, that’s what he’d come for.

“Came to say goodbye,” Roland nodded. “You know, I really liked that kid. He was a good customer too.”

“I’m sure,” Andrew agreed. Gone, Neil was gone. “Did he tell you where he went?”

“No. Just told me it was his last night in town and he wouldn’t spend it at home. Thought you might know the details.”

“‘fraid not,” he mumbled into his drink and took a sip. Roland looked disappointed again.

“Sorry to hear that,” the bartender told him, and Andrew had the feeling he meant the whole situation, not just Neil’s sudden goodbye. The older man mixed them two shooters and placed them onto the polished bar between them. “On the house. To the kid, wherever he might be.” The Exy player took one and huffed in wry humor. It was the first of many shots that night and definitely not his last spiked drink either.

Good thing he had left the Maserati at home before he came to Eden’s. Andrew could barely remember talking to the cabby and giving him his address, paying him (he made sure that had happened and wasn’t just some memory from another night… some drugs and him didn’t mix well, and he didn’t need more trouble), and finally stumbling into his dark, empty apartment. The sofa was closer than the bed, so that was where he ended up, asking himself when had been the last time he was so intoxicated that he surely would regret it the next morning. I’m acting like Kevin, he thought and found his morbid sense of humor, starting to laugh. Even in his own ears it sounded wrong. He’s gone. You let him get away. Neil had managed to hide for years. How likely was it to find him again now?

Morning practice was a physical impossibility and for someone like him that meant something. His coach wasn’t amused of course, but Andrew sounded wrecked enough on the phone to make a sick call believable. Maybe Mathews wouldn’t buy it completely, but he would give him the benefit of the doubt. Kevin wouldn’t. He’d show up sooner or later, making accusations, bringing their supposed-to-be unspoken agreement up, wanting to know why Andrew hadn’t come over instead. He would have to dodge Kevin for a little while. His first step was to turn his phone off. That was an easy task again, now that he knew he couldn’t expect unforeseeable calls and texts from Neil. His next step was his search for some painkillers and downing them with two tall glasses of water. What followed were three more hours of much needed sleep.

He woke up hungover afterwards, still on his sofa, still in his disgusting smelling club outfit, groaning and rolling onto his back, one hand covering his eyes. He felt like shit, there was no other way to describe it, through and through, wrecked to the core. In addition to his physical discomforts came the aftermath of overloaded neurotransmitters, which in his case was a little different from a normal functioning brain. You couldn’t get much lower than his continuous state of apathy, but ‘not much’ was still an unpleasant experience.

It took him most of the day to resemble a normally functioning human being again, even though his brain wasn’t quite up to speed yet. What drove him to get into his car and make the trip across town to Neil’s old apartment again, Andrew couldn’t really say. What induced him to actually get out of his car and break into the young man’s apartment however, was purely his notorious Andrew Minyard curiosity. It seldom knew moral standards or limits. It was like an itch inside his skull that he couldn’t scratch any other way. The need to make sure, to maybe look for clues, to see what was left, couldn’t be ignored any longer.

The lock didn’t even pretend to present much of a challenge, reminding Andrew of the almost bare apartment Neil had called his home. With so little of value inside, why bother? If you had to be ready to run at any given moment and give everything up, why bother? The door opened almost silently. The moment he sat foot into the dark apartment, Andrew knew something was off. The place wasn’t empty. That alone he could have excused. Neil could have run, leaving everything behind except of his most important possessions. It would have made sense. What didn’t though were the boxes that greeted Andrew in the dark. Someone, most likely Neil, had made an effort and packed up all of the young man’s belongings. Granted, that couldn’t have taken long. There were only four of them, neatly stacked against the wall. He paused and took it all in.

Andrew had to admit he hadn't seen the attack from behind that swept the feet from under him, tripping him backwards, coming. He hit the floor back first, and felt the air rushing from his lungs. About to roll to the side to get back onto his feet, a racquet above his head made him pause. Getting slow, Minyard, he mocked himself.

“Give me one good reason not to bash your brains out,” Neil growled. There he was, standing behind him, in nothing but his underwear, aiming his Exy racquet at Andrew’s head. The predator was back again, and Andrew felt another shiver running down his spine. Neil’s bare feet had made no sound when snuck up behind him. He probably had heard him tempering with the lock and hid in the dark bathroom with his racquet. Never before had Andrew Minyard been so pleasantly surprised by being attacked from behind.

“I’m not here to fight,” the goalkeeper replied, staying down for now, leaning on one elbow.

“I don’t care. I’m done with you. I should have never agreed to this in the first place.” The man above him was more than a little annoyed by his uninvited guest.

“I want the truth,” Andrew said and slowly sat up, pushing the racquet aside with his shoulder when Neil refused to move it out of the way. He needed to know. It had been all he could think of those last few days.

“Too bad we are not playing anymore.” Too bad, he had to agree. “Now get out,” Neil hissed.

“How can I put this? How about… –No.” Neil had made the mistake not to withdraw his weapon of choice, leaving the racquet in Andrew’s reach. So he used it, grabbed it and pulled himself back onto his feet with its help when Neil wouldn’t let go. The scuffle that followed only showed how outmatched Neil was in close combat against the Exy star. He threw some punches, some of which Andrew blocked, some of which he simply took and ignored. He hit back only twice, and both hits were more precisely aimed and had enough force behind them to make them count. The first was aimed at Neil’s gut, the second at his face, knocking his head sideways, splitting his lower lip. Everything else was just holds and shoves, making clear who had the upper hand in this fight. Neil was a sore loser though. When he couldn’t get his racquet back, he aimed a knee at the goalkeeper’s groin, which Andrew saw coming and blocked, but wasn’t amused by. It was a cheap shot. It did, however, give Neil the opportunity he had needed to get free and back onto his feet. He took three steps backwards and swept a hand at his bleeding lower lip, keeping his eyes on the goalkeeper. But where did he think he was going in just his underwear in the middle of the night?

Andrew stayed where he was. The fight had gotten his blood flowing, but there was no euphoria in his system. He was still suffering the aftermath of the drugs, leaving him feeling strangely hollow and dissatisfied inside. It wasn’t a good mix. It was a dangerous combination for him.

“Just wait,” he sighed. He was tired of this. He wouldn’t get another chance though. Too bad he had imagined their next encounter differently and now had only himself to blame.

“Fuck off!” Neil was breathing hard, feeling all the rage Andrew couldn’t find inside himself right now.

“Ask me,” Andrew told him.

“Shut up!”

“Ask me anything,” he raised his voice to meet Neil’s. It felt strange. He rarely got loud. He didn’t need to. People took him seriously from his presence alone.

“I don’t care!” Neil was so furious by now, he didn't know what he was doing. The old rage was boiling in him, taking him over. Andrew clearly underestimated him. It was a dangerous game for both of them, and the goalkeeper kept pushing him, wouldn’t leave him alone.

His adrenalin was still high. He had been napping after another sleepless night when he had heard someone stopping in front of his apartment door, followed by the sound of someone messing with his lock. It had taken Neil three seconds to jump off the bed, grab his racquet and hide behind the half open bathroom door in the dark, watching Andrew fucking Minyard breaking into his apartment through the gap between the door and wall.

“Liar! I know you do!” Why did he have to show his emotions now? Why? For fuck’s sake, why couldn't Andrew stay the fuck away from him? What was he doing looking at him like that, as if this meant something? Was he that crazy? Now of all times, after it was already too late. It was not fair.

“Why are you doing this?” Neil raged. Tomorrow morning he would have been gone from this city. It had been a mistake to plan this through this time after all. Pack your things, rent a car, arrive somewhere with more than a duffle bag for once… Yeah, right… Because it had only been Minyard who had found out? Only? Because he had thought he could handle the man? Because somewhere below all this crazy bullshit he still cared for this asshole and couldn’t figure out why.

“Because I want you.” There was anger in Andrew’s voice and something else. Pain? Want me? I know you want me, you idiot, you’ve been paying for me. Captain obvious…

“Why me? For fucks sake!” Neil kicked one of the boxes, leaving a hole in its side. Don’t look at me like that.

“Because you are a nightmare I cannot wake up from.” What a line… Back to the theatrics already, Andrew mocked himself.

“What the fuck does that even mean,” Neil asked, incomprehension written all over his face. “Are you serious?”

“I know you don’t get it,” Andrew spat. Because he wouldn’t. How could he? Andrew himself didn't get to terms with it. He wanted this man. There was so precious little in his life he really wanted. It made him so angry, this… obsession with Neil. It went way beyond sex, way beyond his issues. He knew it was already too late for both of them.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Who the fuck knows what’s going through your brain.” Well, that stung. It shouldn’t, but it did. And it must have shown on his face because Neil’s expression shifted, and then he said, “Are you in love with me?” and there couldn't have been more disbelief in his tone if he had tried.

“Yes, I am.” There it was. And saying it made him feel like crap, sitting here on the dusty floor. He hated it. Neil blinked and Andrew waited for him to laugh, to be disgusted, to be creeped out. He knew what he looked like; a crazy stalker who came after his prostitute. Who wouldn't be thrilled by that?

“You can’t be serious.” Still disbelieve. Nothing else.

“I’m not the liar here,” he snapped. This was so fucked up. He knew it. This was a disaster. And the worst part was, he had fucked it up. He had known all along what a stupid idea this was.

The young man frowned down at him. “No, you are not,” he admitted. Neil’s anger was slowly subsiding again, leaving something like cool detachment in its wake. “You can’t blame me for not realizing it. You have a strange way of showing it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Andrew said nothing. What could say? It was true. “Is that why you keep following me? Did Roland tell you I was leaving?”

“He said you were gone.” That man had caused him so much unexpected trouble recently.

“And you had to make sure?” He didn’t answer but Neil nodded. “Something came up. I was going to leave yesterday. I can’t have you following me around, Andrew. It’s dangerous.”

“Who are you running from?” Why wouldn’t he just answer him? It was so annoying.

“Don’t you know?” Confusion again. Neil was so wide open right now, Andrew wondered if he even realized it.

“I wouldn’t have to ask then, would I?”

“You didn’t ask Kevin?” Maybe he should have. It was always better to have all the cards in one’s hands, but it also made for a terribly boring game.

“I’m still not sure he needs to know.” Depending on what they were dealing with here, it could freak Kevin out and that could get ugly. Andrew didn’t particularly feel like playing babysitter for his friend right now. Not more than usual at least. Neil sighed, looked miserable for a moment and leaned back against the wall. He muttered something under his breath Andrew couldn’t quite catch, then raked a hand through his messy hair.

“You say you like me, but you don’t even know me,” he said then, sighing and sounding more exhausted than anything else. Andrew didn’t miss how ‘love’ had turned into ‘like’ all of the sudden. “Same goes for me. I don’t know you at all, and I thought we agreed on that at the beginning. Now, I know things got messy along the way, and yes, part of it was my fault, I won’t deny that. It was. I got carried away. But pulling that surveillance shit on me went too far. I’m not even talking about what happened back at your apartment. That’s just fucked up. This is stalker material and you now it.”

Yes, he did know it, and it didn’t even matter that it hadn’t been him who had sent those men after Neil. He had taken that file as soon as it had been in his reach. Allison would come up with some excuses about celebrities having to watch their backs. It was bullshit. Fact was he didn’t even feel particularly guilty about the whole thing. Not enough to apologize at least. He knew it had been wrong, morally, legally, but his moral standards were pretty much chthonic to begin with. Flexible, one might say giving him too much credit, nonexistent others might say. The truth lay somewhere in-between but clearly in the lower spectrum.

“You like to push my boundaries.” It wasn't a question but Andrew nodded because Neil knew it already. “And you like it when I break my rules for you. You like the advantage it gives you over me.” Power, Neil had wanted to say, Andrew could hear it in his voice, knew exactly what it would sound like.

“Yes,” he admitted flatly. He needed a cigarette.

“Do you know it makes me feel like crap? That it makes me hate myself every time I let you,” Neil muttered. No, he hadn’t known. How could he have? Empathy wasn’t exactly his forte. He had gotten better at guessing other people’s feelings over the years. He still didn't much care for them. “Geez.” Neil raked his fingers through his hair again and then turned his head to look at Andrew. “Have you been raped?” He had known it already, Andrew was sure.

“Yes.” No use denying it, nothing to gain from it. Open cards, Minyard.

“Fuck,” Neil cursed and Andrew could hear that he had hoped to be wrong about that. “When?” When what? When had been the first time? Or the last? Bee would be so proud, he mocked himself. Spilling everything as if someone had cut him open, as if he was bleeding out.

“I was seven.” He felt raw and strangely numb at the same time, his apathy mixing with old memories and those feelings everyone always told him he was missing. Maybe feelings were overrated after all. Or maybe this was still the drugs’ aftermath. “Then again, when I was twenty.”

“Jesus, Andrew,” Neil cursed. If he coughed up any sign of pity now, he might hit him. Andrew didn't know if he would be able to help himself. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted.

“That’s an interesting choice of words,” he said monotonously. He got up, looked at Neil. “Are we done?” He needed to get out of here. It took Neil a moment to find his voice again.

“Yes,” he said, frowning and watching him warily. And Andrew left, without another word.

<<Ch14 Ch15.2>>

#lntycm #tfc fanfic #atfg fanfic #andreil #andrew minyard #kevin day #neil josten #cval madness #angst #violence #hurt/comfort #anxiety

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XV.III

Notes:

♠︎♠︎♠︎Just in case you are one of those tender souls who absolutely despise to read anything but Andreil, please note that the following scene gives you a little insight into Neil's backstory and his relationship with the German. There will be some mild BDSM (bondage, sensory deprivation, mild breath play) so in case you don't like reading about those things, pls skip the part and continue reading after the horizontal line. Otherwise, pls enjoy the last part of this story. ♠︎♠︎♠︎

“Christian, welcome.” There was only one man who called him by this name, and he pronounced it like Kris-tian, like they all did in Germany. Neil lowered his gaze and stepped closer, felt a hand squeezing his shoulder through his shirt, strong and reassuring. “I’m glad you could make it.”

They were not alone, or the greetings might have looked a little different. Two other men were sitting in the comfortable leather chairs in front of the German’s desk inside the office behind the club. Both had turned halfway around to see the newcomer, both were looking at Neil with open approval and admiration. The hand squeezing his shoulder was a warning for everyone involved though. Now it slid upwards a little, above Neil’s collar-line, long, elegant fingers kneading the strong muscles of his trapezius, the thump getting closer to the hollow of his throat. Neil didn’t move and submitted to this nonverbal claim of ownership, dampening the excitement of the potential new client. This one was not intended for them.

“How could I refuse such an invitation?” Neil answered. Again, if they had been alone he might have spoken in German. The man in front of him was usually pleased by his language skills. The man had called him this morning, inviting him for one last scene before he would leave the country again.

<<Contunue Reading On AO3>>

<<Ch 15.2

#lntycm #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #the end #cval madness

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

A Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XIV

The next time they met was at Andrew’s place again. It had taken Neil a week to get over his illness, including all the nasty phases like coughing up phlegm for example. He had not wanted Andrew around for that. He felt much better now and they had gone back to their weekly appointments.

The first thing Andrew did was hand Neil the money he owed him for their last session. The taller man looked at him questioningly.

“You could have just given it to me at the end.” Neil put it in his pocket.

“Maybe. I don’t like owing people something.” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest. I don’t owe you anything, he told himself yet again. He had imagined this meeting during the last week over and over again, had gone through all the possibilities his mind could conjure up. It still tasted bitter, an imaginary aftertaste of his own thoughts, the fake sensory impressions he associated with betrayal and potential danger. He had grown accustomed to this taste over the years. This can’t go on. It had taken him all week to draw the final line. He hadn’t called, hadn’t seen the man, hadn’t even texted him until Neil had wanted to know about tonights appointment last night.

“Technically, you didn’t. I mean, you took care of my meds and bought me dinner twice. And we went for that drive.” Neil shrugged. Andrew couldn’t help but see the man acting his role with every movement, every breath he took now. He didn’t know why. Neil certainly hadn’t caught onto the change between them yet. Or maybe he had and was trying to escape the inevitable.

“How much do you think I spent on you? Don’ be ridiculous. Besides, you just spent a whole week at home. Don’t lie to me about money. We both know you need it.” Money, Andrew thought, was always an incentive –but maybe not the whole motivator in this case. He was thinking of men who dealt in threats and terror more than in trust and hard currency.

“Do we now?” Neil averted his gaze. He didn’t like the topic, Andrew noticed. It was true, he needed the money, Andrew had at least found out that much. Neil just didn’t like admitting it, least of all in front of the goalkeeper. “It’s fine,” the young man said. Time to change the subject.

“We also needed a clean slate for this,” the goalkeeper added. Neil didn’t quite follow yet. Tabula rasa, Neil, Andrew thought. He still called him Neil in his thoughts. He had done so after the strange phone call the man had given him. Another lie, he knew now, but somehow it had stuck.

“For?” Neil was curious. Maybe he thought Andrew had something new in mind for tonight –and he did, just not the way Neil imagined it. He moved across the room, leaned against the bar, facing his duplicitous hooker, but keeping his distance. Well, technically Neil was a hooker. That part was true. The other clients were real. He had checked. He had seen some very convincing footage. But something wasn’t right with the man. He should have noticed it sooner, wondered why he hadn’t. Because he had not been looking for anything wrong? Because he thought the whole matter had been initiated by and about him. Because he had other things on his mind lately and had let his guard down. Maybe someone else had noticed though.

Clever, using this guy like this. Oh, he was good. The way Neil looked at him right now, expectantly, eager to please. How much had been fake between them? Andrew truly couldn’t say anymore. It was his fault, he knew. He had slipped up, had looked away. You can have this, he had told himself because he had thought he had worked hard for it, every single step, had earned it somehow. Well, nice thought. He grinned a little. Being angry with himself made the whole thing even more distasteful to him. ‘Game over’ he heard Neil say again, and he couldn’t agree more. Get it over with.

Neil was still waiting, standing in his living room, relaxed posture, expression open –trusting– Andrew had come to call it. It had never sat right with him. He shouldn’t be trusted so easily as Neil seemed to do it. It was part of the reason why he had kept coming back for more, he knew. He remembered now what the young man had said to him in anger: ‘Do I really need to tell you that I’ve had worse?’ His scars were proof enough of that, they both knew.

The real question was, who had given them to him. Somehow Andrew had imagined abusive parents –maybe an echo of his own wonderful childhood, though his had been a different blend of fucked-up. Parental figures seldom got away guilt free in his imagination. Now he wondered if there wasn’t a little more to that story than another trailer-park-trash-cliché story, an alcoholic father, a runaway boy fighting for his own survival on the streets of some city, getting caught up in some milieu of organized crime. Maybe Neil had indeed met part of the mafia, one family in particular.

Part of him wanted to make excuses for the man. Part of him wanted to call him just another victim, a tool, a weapon, but not the one wielding it. Part of him wanted to hate the guy, simple as that. Thinking of Kevin helped him listening to that part. Maybe his friend had been a little premature when he had told Andrew that his part of their promise had been fulfilled after all. He would make sure that he would never break that promise, no matter what Kevin said.

The silence stretched on between them. Neil was waiting patiently. They hadn’t touched, hadn’t kissed. Maybe he thought they were taking it slow today. He was wrong. He wouldn’t have a chance to see what was coming for him.

“You must have excellent teeth,” Andrew said suddenly.

“Exceptional,” Neil agreed, not knowing what the blonde was getting at. Something wasn’t quite right with Andrew tonight. It wasn’t nervousness; Neil would have noticed that immediately. The Exy star was keeping his distance from him. What then? It didn’t seem like a drug issue either. Neil was beginning to feel a little uneasy all of the sudden. Andrew was looking at him as if he needed to figure something out about him. This was not something Neil wanted to encourage. He was sincerely fine exploring all of Andrew’s depths, his darker shades he kept hidden, all of his fantasies. He wanted to know these, wanted to know who the man truly was. That was dangerous, and he had admitted to himself that he would make that mistake. He wanted to know if he could replace his Andrew Minyard with the real one entirely, if he could give up his fantasy.

They would never end up in something like a relationship between them, since Neil would never be able to lay his cards on the table, but maybe Andrew didn’t want that anyway. The thought about Andrew paying for his company, his confidence, his trust –all that held a strange and intimate appeal to Neil. Still a client, but a special one. One he would hate to give up one day, one he would miss. A real person in his life, not just a fleeting shadow. During their week apart he had thought about this over and over. But today Andrew seemed different, and Neil couldn’t figure out why.

“Couldn’t even find your last dentist appointment,” Andrew said and Neil felt his blood running cold. Stop! “No records, nothing,” the man went on evenly, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ll ask you again: Who are you running from?”

Andrew had done a background check on him. No. No no no no no… This can’t be happening… The Exy player stared at him coldly. Motherfucker… Why? Neil clenched his fists, squared his shoulders. He was suddenly very aware of the distance of Andrew’s apartment door behind himself, added the three steps he stood apart from the goalkeeper right now.

“Why are you doing this?” There was real desperation in his voice, he didn’t need to fake it, didn’t want to hide it. He felt hurt. He felt his anger rising. Why did Andrew have to ruin everything? Why now? He had let his guard down around this man –knowingly– only to have his illusions shatter like a Price Rupert’s Drop. The goalkeeper reached to the side and picked up a folder. Everything he had found out about him, no doubt. It reminded Neil of a folder he had kept over years.

“Want to read it?” The grin on Andrew’s face looked grotesquely sinister and out of place. Neil glared back at him. He couldn’t read the shorter man at all right now. He wasn’t sure if Andrew was actually enjoying this, or if the man was angry. Both were possible. For the first time Andrew felt like a real threat.

“No. I think we’re done here.” The urge to run was overwhelming. His heart was pounding in his chest. Neil felt betrayed, but more than that he was worried. He tried to act indifferent, tried to hide behind a cold facade, but it was already cracking. He needed to get out of here. He turned around.

“Back in college, our coach took me and Kevin along to recruit a new striker at Millport named Neil Josten. Apparently, his coach had told him about us being there –maybe to motivate the poor bastard, since his team was losing. All he had managed though was to scare the guy off, ‘cause our potential new striker vanished during the last break into thin air and never showed up again. Needless to say, we left empty-handed and one striker short for the next season. –Well, I don’t have to remind a fanboy like you how that turned out. Neil had frozen in his place.

Andrew threw the folder back onto the bar and looked at him, reaching for his cigarettes instead and lit one. “Took me a while,” he admitted and blew smoke up to the ceiling, frowning a little. “You see…” He took another deep inhale. “I don’t forget.” His gaze was lazy but it felt like it burned a hole into Neil. “I don’t care if it’s my turn, I don’t care if you want to play, you’re going to answer me now. Why did you run back then? And why are you back now?”

Neil had looked over his shoulder during Andrew’s speech, but now he needed to get out of here, fast. Andrew saw it coming, moved first and beat Neil to the door. He caught him in the hallway, took him off his feet and twisted Neil’s arm behind his back, threatening to dislocate his shoulder. He grinned down on him and Neil cursed, felt Andrew’s weight on his back.

“The man named Neil Josten doesn't exist. We tried to recruit a ghost back then. Who the fuck are you?” Andrew said in a voice cold as ice, his grin never wavering. The cigarette fell from his fingers and in its stead appeared a knife, pulled out from under one of those black armbands. “Did Riko send you?” he hissed. Moriyama? The name brought a stab of cold fear and unbidden memories with it. Three boys, Evermore, a dull axe… a dead man… his father. Neil began to struggle, but Andrew was having none of it. The knife was not just for show. It was pressed against his throat, and Neil had to pull his head back not to get cut.

“No,” Neil snarled. Had this guy really been carrying knives while he had been with him? What the hell? Had he really been seeing a sociopath all these past weeks? How could he have missed that? The knife lay cold against the skin of his throat, and he could feel the edge starting to cut him like a careless stroke of a razor. What an idiot he had been. After all those years of running and hiding…

Neil forced a breath in through his mouth and out through his nose. It didn’t help much, he was starting to shake. He dug deeper, searched for his rage. It was there. It never left him. If he had ever needed it, now was the time. There was nothing left for him; only panic and anger. He swallowed, tried to glare at Andrew over his shoulder, tried to focus his hatred on the Exy star. You betrayed me! I trusted you! I thought I could. Wrong. He had been wrong, about Andrew, about thinking it was worth the risk, about believing he deserved a piece of normality –about everything. Time to pay the price. He needed Nathaniel back in his life.

“For someone who’s been raped, you sure as hell understand precious little about the meaning of the word ‘no’.” He managed to keep his voice from shaking, barely. Neil knew fear intimately and this was way too close to the images he kept buried deep down in his memory. Andrew’s eyes narrowed. That had hit –good. He needed to fight back. If Andrew thought a little knife was all it took to keep him down, he was mistaken. His touch felt alien to Neil. There was a stranger on top of him, holding him down, threatening him. This was the man who had attacked another player after a game and shattered his kneecap, this was the man who had singlehandedly taken down three men and nearly killed them behind Eden’s Twilight, the man who had taken medication for years. Seemed like he had woken the beast. I might hurt you. What a joke. Might… How could he have been so stupid?

“What do you want from Kevin?” Andrew’s grip got tighter, the knife’s edge started to cut. Neil felt the first trickle of blood running down his throat. You won’t kill me, he thought. Nathaniel was taking over more and more of him now and he let him –gladly for once.

“You got it backwards,” he hissed, shaking in Andrew’s grip, but more from exertion than fear now. “Kevin knows me and I can’t let him find me.” He saw the realization in Andrew’s face, felt him hesitate. Funny how he could see the moment another puzzle piece fell into place in that pale face, but Andrew’s emotions often seemed to be written in a foreign language. “Now get off me!” He took the first chance he got. As soon as he felt Andrew pulling the knife back, Neil tried to buck him off, tried to get onto his feet again. If Andrew hadn’t let go of his arm then, he’d have dislocated his own shoulder. He bolted, was out the door and down the hallway in seconds, took the emergency exit and ran. No time to wait for the elevator.

Alone in his tiny apartment behind his locked door, Neil felt the rage taking over completely. The black Audi, the men following him, his panic attack, his renewed paranoia… all Andrew’s doing. How long had the man been playing with him like that? Why? What kind of game was he playing? All those questions, his insistence of the truth, him bringing Kevin up… No, no, it made no sense. He had mentioned Riko, and the only Riko worth mentioning was the youngest Moriyama and he was in Japan. His mind recoiled every time he ventured close to that minefield. Moriyama… the mob, his father… still looking for him after all those years. The memory of his dead mother was unavoidable at that moment. No, he told himself, don’t go there right now.

It was the middle of the night, but there would be no sleep for him. He could barely keep himself from grabbing his old duffle-bag and stuffing it with his most important belongings right now. He forced himself to stay in here and think it over. Maybe he’d have to vanish again –no, that was already a certainty. Staying was out of the question. But he had to be careful, had to think, had to wipe away all his traces.

Minyard knew where he lived –but he had known that for a while now, and the fact that none of his father’s men had shown up here until now told him that he had got some time left. Andrew Minyard was still a wildcard in this game. Maybe he was another player, Neil wasn’t sure of that yet. The man was dangerous, that was certain. If he isn’t one of the Moriyama’s… not one of my father’s –and he wasn’t, Neil thought he had gotten that right at least, then who is he?

Kevin Day was another piece on the board and there laid the real problem. Kevin Day was indisputably tied to the Moriyama family. He still wore the number two tattooed on his face for heaven’s sake. Riko’s second. But he must have had some kind of falling out with the Japanese mobster family when he had left the Ravens and joined the Foxes years ago. And Minyard had been Day’s shadow for years. The more he thought about it, the stupider he felt for getting close to the goalkeeper in the first place. He wanted to hate the man, needed to, so his mind wouldn’t search for excuses and possibilities, for misunderstandings…

‘The man named Neil Josten doesn’t exist.’ Yeah, no kidding, asshole. But he could have if you hadn’t ruined it all –twice! He hadn’t known back then that Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard had personally shown up to watch his game back then. All he had heard had been Foxes and that had been enough. He had skipped town that very same night back then. He had kept the papers though. He had gotten attached to Josten, and had wanted to bury Wesninski so deep that no one would ever be able to dig that bastard up again.

Part of him –a huge part, he had to admit– had always regretted running away during that game. The ‘what ifs’ had never left him alone again up to this day. Payback maybe? The thought came unbidden. He didn’t want to think of it like that. He hadn’t blamed Andrew Minyard for his pathetic excuse of a life. But it had felt like fate when the black car had pulled up next to him that night. No, he had not planned to harm Andrew Minyard –he had though, wanted to stay close to him this time, to avoid new regrets and ‘what ifs’. But fate hadn’t been smiling down on him, he realized now. Not at all.

‘Why did you run back then? And why are you back now?’ Andrew’s words replayed over and over in his head. Back at the goalkeeper’s apartment he had not been able to think clearly. Well, who could blame him, really? A background check, a knife to the throat… I ran because you would have exposed me to my father. I’ve already told you too much. All you need to do is ask Kevin now. That was a dumb move, idiot. He sighed. I’m not back at all. You came to me, or so I thought. I’m not so sure anymore.

It couldn’t all just be a huge fucking coincidence. What were the odds? Neil paced his apartment for the rest of the night, lights turned off, burning through his coffee reserves at an alarming pace. By the time the sun came up he was jittery, but the light creeping through his window was comforting at least. He had made it through another night. He was still here. He hadn’t run –yet. He would escape again.

And then he heard the car. Instantly he was at his window. “You gotta be kidding,” Neil growled, furiously. The black Maserati pulled over on the other side of the road. It was enough. He had enough. He could just imagine it; this crazy sociopath sitting in his car, waiting for him to leave, like a perfect little stalker… –Or maybe he would come up here. This is what you get for breaking the rules, he told himself.

Neil went to the door, grabbed his keys, pulled on his boots and snatched the racquet up that was leaning against the wall. He took the stairs down, jumping over the last few of each flight and to hell with the sleeping neighbors. He swung the front door open and crossed the street. If Andrew saw him coming, he had no time to stop him. Neil raised the racquet and smashed the driver seat window in. A million little pieces showered down around his feet and covered Andrew still sitting inside.

“Stay away from me! Or the next time, it will be you I break!” Racquet against knife, the odds were clearly in his favor this time. He pulled the money he still carried with him out of his pocket and threw it through the broken window. Andrew actually managed to look perplexed, if anything. Disturbingly calm, though. It made the hairs on Neil’s neck rise. “Now fuck off,” he hissed and turned to leave.

He heard Andrew getting out of the car, leaving the door open, but it took him by surprise just how fast the goalkeeper got to him, grabbed the racquet with both hands as Neil turned, and shoved him backwards against the wall, racquet pressed against his chest painfully. Andrew’s lips crushed against his, front teeth colliding, and if he hadn't pulled back fast enough, Neil would have bitten him. Instead, Andrew shoved some of the money back into Neil’s pocket, gave him another push for good measure that would leave bruises and turned around to get back into the car. Neil was fuming. He wiped his mouth and spat another insult at the man, but the Maserati’s engine drowned his voice out and Andrew, ignoring him, vanished down the road.

<<Ch13 Ch15>>

#lntycm #andreil #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic #cval madness #andrew minyard #neil josten

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c-valentino · 7 years

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Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XIII

Something about moving around, about not staying in one place, could ease Neil’s anxiety sometimes like nothing else. It was a remnant of his past, of the time he had been on the run with his mother. Sitting in the passenger’s seat of the black Maserati while the city rushed by outside of the window calmed his fried nerves, got rid of the twitchy movements and the crawling feeling under his skin. It made breathing an unconsciously performed body function again, instead of one that required constant thought.

The leather seat felt cool to the touch, and Andrew didn’t ask before he turned on the heat that started to lure him in and made him relax until he was slumped backwards, his head lolling sideways, eyes taking in the scenery outside. Coming down from a panic attack was always rough, but doing it while still recovering from his illness had wiped Neil out. He hadn’t moved an inch in the last ten minutes, and he started to get this strange feeling in his extremities, that fake detachment that came with complete muscle relaxation, confusing the brain about the actual positioning.

Andrew seemed to understand that he was in no condition for any kind of conversation right now, and Neil was grateful for that. The only sound was that of the car, and that one was a deeply satisfying one. It was the sound of power and speed resonating in his chest. Andrew didn’t ask where he wanted to go, and Neil would have no answer for him anyway. He had no destination in mind. Going for a drive was all he needed. Not having a destination was such a familiar feeling to him that he didn’t question it anymore.

The view outside became more desolate, and he realized that they had reached the outskirts of the city. His eyelids felt heavy when he blinked and turned his head to the other side, looking at Andrew. He did not mind being alone with the man in his vulnerable state. That was strange, normally it would have worried him, would have made him at least at bit nervous. He was in no shape to fight or escape Andrew right now. When did I start trusting him? He didn’t know. Fact was he didn’t completely trust Andrew Minyard. He trusted him as a client, and even that was bizarre in some way since Andrew was potentially dangerous. It was the moment when Andrew had admitted to being violent that Neil started feeling safer nonetheless. But this right now was something else.

Andrew’s eyes were on the road, his posture relaxed, and his expression thoughtful, no doubt thinking of the nervous breakdown he had just witnessed. Neil felt a little ashamed because of it. He wanted to talk to Andrew to distract them both from what had just happened, but his tongue didn’t comply, wouldn’t move, and his brain came up with no interesting topics. He felt beyond tired. Grimacing a little he rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times, trying to focus more. His arms and legs felt heavy.

“You can put the seat back,” Andrew said quietly. He leaned a bit forward to have a better view at a busy crossing, but never looked at Neil.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to fall asleep,” Neil answered groggily.

“I’m not gonna kidnap you,” Andrew mocked. There was no edge behind those words, but they hit home anyway.

“I just…” He searched for words. “It’s not you. I just can’t sleep with someone around. Old habits, I guess,” he added apologetically. Andrew shrugged, unoffended. Neil coughed, making his raw throat scream in protest at him. He tried clearing it, but his body thought it was about time to do something for his oxygen intake by getting rid of the mucus in his bronchi. “Damn,” he grumbled hoarsely when his coughing fit subsided. Andrew didn’t comment, just reached beside himself and threw something small at Neil. The young man barely managed to catch it, and it turned out to be candy. He looked down at it and felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when Andrew Minyard and sweet tooth crossed his mind. So unexpectedly cute, it still got to him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice a raspy mess.

They left the city and as the dark road in front of them cleared, Andrew floored the gas pedal. The Maserati purred and Neil enjoyed the feeling of being pressed back into his seat. It gave him goosebumps and the smile overtook his lips in earnest now, bordering on a full-fledged grin, showing teeth and all. Andrew saw it, answering with one of his crooked ones. The goalkeeper shifted gears and the car obeyed him like a stallion given free rein. Neil let his eyes slide close and purred low in the back of his throat. If he didn’t feel like crap right now, the combination of Andrew and this obscenely fast black car could give him a hard-on. He looked down when Andrew took his hand and placed it on the gearshift with his own on top.

“Very subtle,” he joked, but he liked it and grabbed the gearshift harder, Andrew’s fingers interlacing with his.

“You wanna drive?” He blinked, thought he must have misheard the Exy player. Andrew’s eyes were on the road again.

“Are you kidding?” He must be. Who would hand their Maserati car keys to their hooker –as Andrew never failed to call him. He’s also calling you Neil now. That still felt strange.

“You can drive?” Andrew made sure. There were cars not far in front of them now, and Andrew’s foot eased off the gas again.

“I can,” Neil nodded, letting Andrew grab his hand tighter as he shifted gears. Neil had learned to drive very early in his life, even before it had been legal for him to do so. He had never gotten behind the wheel of a sports car like this one though. It was a little intimidating.

“So?” Andrew didn’t seem to mind. It was tempting.

“Ask me again when I don’t have trouble keeping my eyes open, and I won’t say no.” He would never forgive himself if he would get them into an accident. Andrew shrugged.

“Then don’t,” he said. Neil didn’t quite follow.

“Hm?”

“Keep them open,” the goalkeeper elaborated.

“I told you I don’t want to sleep.”

“Like this?” Andrew shifted gears again, his hand warm on Neil’s. “Could you?” Fair point. Neil grumbled an unintelligible reply, like a kid who had just lost an argument, and sunk a little deeper into his seat. The moment he closed his eyes he knew he didn’t want to open them again any time soon. Don’t let go, he wanted to say but knew how childish that would sound. Don’t let me sleep. He concentrated on the sound of the car.

“Say something,” he asked Andrew. “Anything.”

“Anything,” Andrew replied. Neil smirked a little.

“Why are you so nice all of the sudden?” It felt so different from how it had been this evening between them. He feared asking Andrew would ruin the mood again, but he really wanted to know.

“You complain about the strangest things.”

“I’m not complaining. Just wondering.”

“Who knows,” Andrew said vaguely and Neil let it go.

He didn’t fall asleep, but Neil wasn’t awake either after a few minutes. It was strangely comfortable driving through the night like this, no destiny in mind, Andrew’s hand gripping his. Every time the goalkeeper needed to shift gears Neil’s mind came back to the present, before slipping down again, his mind dreaming up curious scenes with Andrew and his imaginary Andrew. Two of them… But then his brain came up with some kind of nonsensical explanation, calling them twins, since yeah, there were Minyard twins out there. He didn’t mind at all.

Andrew glanced sideways at Neil next to him. The man looked awful. Still gorgeous, but in an awful way. That panic attack must have wiped him out completely; he hadn’t moved in the last twenty minutes, and his head had lolled to the side again. Andrew felt a little pleased that Neil had broken another rule. How many were left, he wondered.

This guy was a piece of work –Allison had gotten that right. He still tried to find a convincing explanation for all of it, but Andrew didn’t like to fool himself. The problem was that he had gotten attached to this man and now he had to suffer the consequences. Where did he find you, he wondered. None of it made sense right now. He was sure this man was messing with him, but someone was after him, and he could take an educated guess who that might be. He didn’t like it one bit. What does he have on you?

Andrew’s mind came back to the question that bugged him the most: Why me? All these years he had escaped any kind of unwanted attention while the others had not been so lucky. Why now? It made no sense. Maybe it’s not me after all. That thought stung the most. Him being the means to an end. Nice… yeah, not going to happen. Better men had tried. Andrew liked to think that he had learned patience over the years, but he had to admit that this was just stalling on his part and time was running out for them.

He gave the man next to him another side-glance. Neil would not be pleased if he knew how completely he had let his guard down right now. Oh no, Neil would be pissed, at himself and at Andrew for talking him into it. He thought about slowly letting go of Neil’s hand, so the guy could sleep a little longer. He wanted him rested for what was coming. There was no fun in it if the man was half-dead on his feet. Neil was a runner, he had told him that. Well, it would be interesting to see if he could catch a rabbit with bare hands. Get better, little rabbit…

Andrew clicked his tongue in annoyance as some asshole saw his car in the rearview mirror and decided to thwart him at the last minute. The goalkeeper slammed his foot on the break, startling Neil awake with a terrified gasp, his hand clutching at the seatbelt that was pressing uncomfortably into his chest. Neil stared wide-eyed between the car in front and the man next to him, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Yeah…,” Andrew agreed a bit lamely when he seemed to figure it out and settled back into his seat. They passed the guy who couldn’t keep his jealousy in check, and Andrew felt like meeting him face-to-face right now. Giving him the finger was not an option with the mirrored windows.

Neil looked around to figure out where they were. Pretty much in the middle of nowhere right now. Andrew had taken his car for a few drives over the years. It was pretty much his replacement for the trips to Columbia. He usually did this alone, only Kevin had kept him company once, but his friend talked too much for these drives. Kevin was also a messy sleeper, slack-jawed, drooling all over himself, mumbling… He was even worse when he was drunk, which was another good reason to keep him sober. Maybe he would have to spend some more time with Kevin in the near future, to keep an eye on him. Maybe.

Next to him, Neil rubbed his eyes and tried to keep them open, catching a look at a sign as they drove past. It seemed to ease his mind a bit.

“Still not going to kidnap you.”

“Hm? I was just wondering how far we made it.” He shivered hard enough that he couldn’t hide it by moving around in his seat.

“We didn’t make it far. You were out for maybe twenty minutes.” He reached over and put the back of his hand against Neil’s forehead. “But maybe it’s time I turn around.”

“Do we have to?” Neil asked miserably.

“You better sleep that fever off.”

“I’m not getting much sleep these days,” the dark haired man sighed and looked out of the window again.

“Why, pray tell?” He could guess after all.

“I don’t know,” Neil mumbled, elbow resting against the door, chin in hand.

“Creative lies, I said. You are not even trying anymore.” The young man glared sideways at him. “You owe me an answer.”

“I don’t. I forfeit all further questions. Game over.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptible at that. Neil had made the wrong move, even if he didn’t know it just yet. He drove them back into the city. His passenger wasn’t happy about it, but that was alright. They spent the remaining drive in silence.

As he stopped in front of the young man’s apartment Andrew turned around and faced him.

“Stop seeing other people.”

“No. No deal. We talked about this.” Yeah, they had, but things changed. Neil had changed, and it was becoming more and more obvious. Something was going on with him and Andrew couldn’t ignore it any longer. Someone was messing with his– His what, exactly? He didn't know for sure anymore, but in his mind Neil was definitely his something. This was his last chance. It was also a test.

“I’ll let you meet Kevin.” That got him the reaction he was looking for. Some might have missed it, but Andrew had always been an excellent observer, and he always noticed the small but sudden pauses this name would cause. He didn't quite get it yet though. He understood the fanboy part alright. Neil was just like Kevin, another Exy junky, and Kevin was one of his idols. But there was something else to it, something dark, something that wouldn't fit in. A jagged piece in the puzzle that was Neil –and he couldn't place it –didn’t want to place it, because that option was far worse.

“On the court,” he added. There was a look in Neil’s eyes he had never seen before. Andrew wasn’t sure if he had ever seen this version of Neil before. He got the sudden sense of danger, of violence. This went way beyond Neil’s obsession with Exy. It took only a moment for the man to wipe that expression off his face. It had not been fast enough. This wasn’t good. “You want that?”

Neil narrowed his eyes. He seemed conflicted. What was going on behind those blue eyes?

“No,” he lied. How much did that cost him, Andrew wondered.

“I told you, your blanket has too many holes.”

“You don’t have to share it with me.” And just like that, Neil made the decision for him.

<<Chapter 12 Chapter 14>>

#lntycm #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic #cval madness #andreil #andrew minyard #kevin day #neil josten

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c-valentino · 7 years

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Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XI

Andrew was greeted at the door of Eden’s Twilight as usual; crowds parting to let him through, a few less attentive souls pushed out of the way by the staff. The heavy bass vibrated in his chest like a second heartbeat, easing his mind. He spotted Roland behind the bar and made his way over.

“Long time no see,” the man grinned and they clasped hands. Roland was obviously pleased to see him and even Andrew managed a grin. “Your friend showed up an hour ago.” He blinked. Roland noticed. “Oh, coincidence then. Nevermind. The usual?”

“Yes.” He leaned against the bar and let his gaze scan the crowd. He couldn’t find Neil, wasn’t even sure if he wanted to meet the guy tonight. Roland returned with his drink, accepted the generous tip, and nodded at the wall behind the dance floor. Neil was sitting on a couch, looking somehow withdrawn and deep in thought amidst the dancing crowd and chatting groups. Roland’s fingers drummed an off-rhythm beat next to Andrew’s glass, indicating that Neil had ordered one of his specials too. Andrew raised a pale eyebrow at the bartender. He smirked a little and took his drink, taking a sip and returning his gaze to the young man.

Someone had noticed Neil and came to stand beside him to talk. Neil frowned up at him, unable to understand anything with the speakers close by. The guy leaned in close to try again. Andrew noticed a pang of possessiveness and displeasure watching this. The hand on Neil’s shoulder, the lips almost brushing his ear, the twisting grin on the man’s face while talking to Neil… He didn’t like any of it. Neil shrugged in response and gave a weak, distant-looking smile. The hand on his shoulder moved behind his neck and a thumb was brushing along his jaw.

“Did it work out between the two of you?” Roland asked from behind him.

“Define ‘work out’,” Andrew replied. Then he shrugged. “I guess.”

“Good to hear. He’s a nice kid.” Andrew turned then.

“How’d you know?” He half-emptied his glass. Roland smiled knowingly and looked over at Neil.

“I’m a bartender. I’m a good judge of character.”

“Then what am I,” Andrew scoffed. ‘Nice kid’ wouldn’t cross anyone’s mind thinking of him.

“Worth the trouble,” Roland said without missing a beat, provoking a short but honestly amused laugh from the goalkeeper.

“Give me another and one for you,” he said, putting cash onto the bar and emptying his glass.

“Coming right up.” Roland was good at slipping drugs into drinks without unwanted eyes noticing, but Andrew knew what to look for. Both drinks were spiked when Roland returned. Andrew wouldn’t have trusted someone who would refuse to take the stuff they sold.

“Cheers.” They clinked glasses. When Andrew turned around again, Neil was gone. Found someone else for tonight, he thought and didn’t allow himself to indulge in the rising anger. He had cancelled tonight’s appointment. He swallowed another mouthful, waiting for the drugs to kick in. The alcohol would take the edge off first, and he longed for it. His own mind was a disquieting place in general, but even more so lately. The dancing crowd moved to the beat and he kept his eyes on them, not looking at someone in particular, just taking in those individual bodies, which managed to move separately but still added up to one moving mass following the music. Crowds and their dynamics were fascinating. Stupidity and intelligence at the same time, weakness and strength… The alcohol was kicking in, he noticed and he did nothing to stop his wandering thoughts.

“You aren’t following me again, are you?” He froze. Just like that, his muscles locked up for a split-second and his mind came to a halt. Next to him stood one black-haired young man, close enough to touch him, and he hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Just another body moving next to him to order something at the bar –yeah, right.

Andrew didn’t notice him standing next to him. The man looked like a walking advertisement. Black suit, black dress shirt, open collar, no tie, polished shoes, hair combed back. Overdressed, he thought. Andrew definitely had been on some kind of event before he came here. Neil leaned next to him against the bar, gesturing to Roland for another drink before he spoke to the goalkeeper without facing him.

“You aren’t following me again, are you?” He had seen Andrew entering the room, had noticed the attention shifting in his direction, had watched him ordering drinks and finding him in the crowd across the room. He hadn’t locked eyes with him. Neil had been careful not to be caught watching the Exy star.

Andrew glanced sideways at him. “No.” Neil nodded. He reached into his pocket for some cash, when Andrew’s hand stopped his and the goalkeeper nodded at the bartender in order to pay for the drink instead. Neil shot him an angry look and freed his hand, pushing the money across the bar.

“Keep the change,” he told Roland and took his glass.

“Someone is pissed,” Andrew muttered, eyes returning to the dance floor.

“I’m not. Don’t buy me stuff.”

“Technically, I still owe you for last time. –Ah, that’s right. You prefer cash.” He grinned and put his own glass back onto the bar before reaching for his wallet. Neil’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, low enough that only Andrew would hear it and left. Andrew just grinned. Stupid bastard, Neil thought. He thought he might have gotten through to Andrew by now, but obviously that wasn’t the case. The man still wanted him to break the rules, still treated him –publicly –like a whore. Just as well, Neil thought. He had all evening been wrapping his mind around being just that in Andrew’s case –his prostitute. If that was what the man wanted, that was what he would get. That meant establishing the rules again and following them this time for his own sake.

He crossed the room and moved into the crowd after emptying his glass in one go and disposing of it. He let the beat dictate his movements and tuned out everything else. People turned towards him when he danced. His body was a lithe thing, on and off the court, and he couldn’t hide it. The fact that he had put the effort in to learn a few moves that would come in handy with his clients only added to that. He didn’t do it on purpose, his body just started moving, encouraged by alcohol and drugs in his system. Some people got overly cheerful and clingy; he turned more into his other self. Nathaniel was rearing his ugly head, knife-edged grin on his lips, mind as dangerous as the man’s he was named after. It made him feel powerful right now; it would make him feel utterly disgusted in the morning. He hated it, but sometimes he needed the reminder. Nathaniel wasn’t scared. Nathaniel could deal with the threats lurking in the shadows. Nathaniel didn’t need anyone’s help. He could do what he wanted.

People moved in closer around him but he brushed them off. He liked the attention but he didn’t want to give any in return. This is not what you want, his mind kept whispering somewhere behind the music and he told it to shut up. Songs blurred into one single endless beat, rivaled by his rapid heartbeat. His skin was hot and sweaty, his hair stuck to his neck and forehead, his shirt fit him like a second skin. It felt good. He lost track of time but it didn’t matter. Hands touched him from time to time, trying to convince him to turn around and move closer. He ignored them and they vanished again. Someone wouldn’t give up so easily though. There was a hand on his shoulder, thumb running up his neck, a grip like a vice.

“We need to talk.” Andrew Minyard. Neil shivered a little when he heard those words coming from close behind him. He turned then, eyes locking with Andrew’s. The man looked angry. Why can’t you smile for a change, he thought and grinned. Before he could answer anything, Andrew’s hand slid down his arm and grabbed his biceps, pulling him along.

“Hey!” Neil protested. He was ignored and followed Andrew, not quite sure where they were going. Sober, he would have figured it out immediately; now the only thing he saw were people dodging them, looking at them. “Let go! Where the fuck…” He stumbled up the stairs behind the goalkeeper, who held him by the wrist now, like a misbehaving child. When they got outside and the cool night air hit them, Neil took in deep breaths, his body realizing what he had been missing. Andrew still wouldn’t stop.

“I said, let go of me,” Neil snarled, only to be ignored.

They finally stopped two blocks down, Andrew turning around and facing him again.

“You,” he said, making it sound like an accusation. Neil frowned at him, not following. Andrew looked around, making sure no one was watching them. When he spotted a group of people coming their way, he pulled Neil across the street and into a parking lot.

“What’s your problem,” Neil wanted to know, annoyed.

“What are you doing,” Andrew asked in return.

“What am I doing?” Neil chuckled. “What you wanted me to, asshole.” He raised his chin defiantly.

“You are an idiot,” the goalkeeper said matter-of-factly. Neil responded with a disbelieving laugh. “Why did you run last time?” The taller man looked puzzled for a moment.

“‘Cause you told me to.” He blinked, trying to make sense of the situation.

“That’s not what I said. You want this to be complicated, don’t you?” Andrew asked. Neil balled his hands into fists at that.

“I get it, okay? You pay me, I do what you say. No personal shit, no feelings, no strings attached.” It made him angry that he had to say it out loud.

“Spoken like a true hooker,” Andrew mocked. “Not what I said,” he repeated and emphasized every word as if he was speaking to a dimwitted fool.

“Then what?” Neil raged at him. He was so tired of this. In response, Andrew’s lips crushed against his, their teeth colliding painfully when Neil was too slow to react in time. Andrew rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the back of his neck, keeping him in place, leaning his own head sideways, dominating the kiss. Neil clenched his fists, struggling not to hold onto the man in front of him. His left hand was still captured by Andrew’s grip, but it took some serious effort to keep his right at his side.

Andrew deepened the kiss, licked into his mouth, bit him, first his lips, then down his neck, before his hissed, “Idiot,” into Neil’s ear. “I told you I hate sharing. You just had to let them touch you in front of me, huh?” His hand tightened on Neil’s neck.

“Fuck you,” Neil hissed but did nothing to free himself.

“No,” Andrew growled and kissed him again. Neil was panting when their lips parted again. He lowered his head a little, forehead almost touching Andrew’s. His lips tingled. They should hurt judging by how hard Andrew had bitten him but they didn’t. He should be shivering from the cold but he felt too hot all over. “I’m going to take you home,” Andrew said in a low voice.

“No,” Neil managed.

“Geez, look at you. How much did you take?” The goalkeeper grabbed him by the chin and Neil jerked his head back violently.

“You can’t tell me what to do tonight.”

“Because I didn’t want to see you? I’m here now.” Neil glared at him, took a step back but Andrew followed.

“You can’t have it both ways. Either you want to see me and pay me, or you stay away from me,” he said, stating the rules again.

“Pay you for what?” Andrew shot back, sudden anger flaring up again. He moved in closer, one foot stepping between Neil’s legs, thigh pushing upward. Neil was half-erect already. He wanted to blame the drugs, but it was the man in front of him who was to blame.

“Yeah,” Andrew said knowingly, pressing against his crotch. “But in case you have forgotten…” Now he moved against Neil’s thigh. The dark-haired man blinked at him, dumfounded. “But thanks for the show,” Andrew hissed and withdrew, letting go of him. Even through the drug-haze it stung. Fuck.

“Andrew…” What should he say? The goalkeeper glared at him, daring him to say the wrong thing. Neil sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. His mouth opened again before he noticed, words spilling from his lips. “I never get it right with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Andrew replied coldly.

Neil ran his fingers through his sweaty hair absentmindedly. “I think I do. I want to.” Andrew pointed a finger at him. “Hate you,” Neil said in his stead, automatically and Andrew nodded. “I know,” Neil sighed, sounding troubled. He wondered how much he would regret of this tomorrow. Probably all of it. “I fucked up,” he admitted. Andrew shrugged.

“Will you let me make it up to you?” Hazel eyes met his questioningly. Andrew didn’t say anything, obviously unsure what Neil was offering. “I might…would you…uhm…” Neil winced. He took a deep breath and just pushed the words out with the exhale. “Would you let me try something? Tonight?”

“Try what?” Andrew asked suspiciously. Neil looked around, not sure if he wanted to explain it right here. His body shivered but it felt like he had no part in it. Still, his mind told him that he was getting cold and that he couldn’t afford to get sick. To his surprise, Andrew shrugged off his jacket and handed it to him. His own was still at the club.

“Thanks,” Neil muttered and put it on. Below the smell of Eden’s lingered a heady mix of Andrew’s aftershave, sweat and body wash. Neil barely kept himself from inhaling that scent greedily. “Well…” He laughed a little nervously. Hadn’t he told Andrew to tell him of the things he wanted without any reservations? That he had heard them all before, that nothing could shock him or make him nervous anymore? That lie was in plain view now, as he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. “Fuck… okay. You still have that camera?” he blurted out then. Hadn’t taken him long to consider breaking the rules again for this man. All because of a drugged brain and a sudden rush of guilt.

“I have a camera, why?” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Would you lend it to me?” The goalkeeper shrugged, then nodded. “Would you watch me doing stuff… when I’m not around?” he asked hesitantly. Andrew got the whole picture then and frowned.

“You said no videos.” Neil nodded and looked away, letting Andrew add another broken rule to the list.

“You have to promise me to delete the file afterwards,” he said. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Andrew agreed.

They returned to Eden’s and took a cab to Andrew’s apartment. Both of them didn’t speak much and kept their distance from each other. Andrew found his DSLR camera and handed it to Neil. The dark-haired man confessed that he didn’t really know the technical details to his plan and had to explain to Andrew what he needed. They decided to figure it out at Andrew’s place, using the goalkeeper’s laptop to test the setup for the video stream. Neil’s phone wouldn’t give them the needed video quality, and in all honesty, Neil started to doubt that his old laptop would be up for the challenge either, even with the expensive camera at his disposal. He might just have to record everything at home and give the camera back to Andrew afterwards.

“This works. Just do it here,” Andrew told him.

“What do you…” Neil frowned.

“Just use the guest room,” Andrew shrugged, hands in his pockets.

“Oh.” Neil looked down the hall. He had never seen the rest of Andrew’s place. “Yeah, I mean…” He didn’t mind. The whole point was for them to be in separate rooms. If Andrew was okay with him being in the same apartment, he didn’t mind trying it that way. They set up the equipment and Neil sat down on the bed, his phone in hand, talking to Andrew two rooms down the hall.

“Can you see me?”

“Works fine.” They had muted the mic on the camera, so Neil could put Andrew on speaker phone to be able to talk to him.

“Alright.” He placed the phone on the bed but out of the way. Imagining Andrew watching him from his bedroom, Neil kneeled on the bed and started to take his clothes off. He did it slowly and deliberately, putting on a show for the goalkeeper. He listened for Andrew’s instructions but the Exy player remained silent on his end. There was just the slight rustling of clothes, the faint metallic sound of a belt buckle, that let Neil know Andrew was undressing too.

He settled down naked onto the bed. His nerves were calm now. He had done this many times. Not in front of a camera, but being watched by many different eyes. Neil leaned back, made himself comfortable.

“Don’t look at me,” Andrew hissed through the phone.

“I’m not,” Neil justified himself, a little disbelieving, breathless laugh in his voice, because he wasn’t. He wasn't even near Andrew. The damned camera was just right in front of him. He made an effort and turned his head to the side. “Andrew.”

“What?” Andrew sounded tense.

“Want to blindfold me?” He ran a hand down his upper body, making sure to arch his back and spread his legs.

“Not today.” Not today, huh? Meaning you’d like to try that sometime.

“‘Kay.” He didn't touch his cock yet. “Listen, you want to let me lead for a little tonight,” he asked carefully. “You can tell me to do something any time you want but for now, just do what I do.” He listened closely for Andrews reply. Dammit, he should have gotten him a headset or something. His phone’s mic would have to do for now, even if they were on speaker. “Yes or no, Andrew?” He took notice of the pause that followed. He wasn't even sure Andrew was up to anything tonight but he just couldn't stand Andrew being like this, making him angry like this.

“Yes.” He could barely hear him.

“Okay.” Neil made sure not to look directly at the camera, but a little above it, and smiled. He touched himself now, just lightly, the back of his fingers running over his half erect cock. He imagined Andrew doing the same, asked himself if the goalkeeper had been able to calm down enough to enjoy this. If this went wrong, they were done. He would never be able to convince Andrew to try anything with him again. He was sure of that.

He reached up again and licked his palm before he finally closed his hand around his erection. His other hand ran up the inside of his thigh, starting at his knee, all the way up, fingertips running over his abs, dipping into his navel and circling his left nipple until it got hard. His right hand had started to stroke himself in slow, lazy movements. He thought about Andrew, leaned back a little more, resting his upper body on top of the cushion propped up against the wooden headboard and looked with half-lidded eyes up at the ceiling. Was Andrew touching himself in his bedroom? What was he thinking? Neil wished the man could just stop thinking for a while and let someone else take over for him. He couldn't hear a sound from the speakers.

“You know…” His right thumb made slow circles around the head of his cock, followed by a few slow but firm strokes up and down his shaft from his hand. “I wish I knew your body as well as mine.” He kept his voice soft. “I wish I knew what you feel when you do this.” He teased his nipple with his left hand, rolling it between thumb and index finger. He brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, teasingly biting down on them. He took his time, not rushing anything, not knowing how much time Andrew needed.

His hips moved slowly, pushing into his hand. He was fully erect now. Just thinking about Andrew doing this two rooms down the hall made him hard. He had to be careful not to finish too soon. He breathed loud enough for the microphone to pick up, as his wet fingers teased his other nipple. Those were a safe bet. He had never met a guy who didn't enjoy a little nipple play.

“Mmh…” His grip got a little firmer as he stroked himself. He remembered Andrew’s hand on him, remembered how he had done it. Neil adjusted his legs a little, dug his heels into the mattress to move his hips a bit easier. His left hand slid down, rubbed his flat belly beneath his navel, down, ghosting over his balls, then grabbing his muscular inner thigh hard. He sucked a hissing breath through his teeth, more for Andrew’s benefit. When Neil was alone, doing this by himself, he barely made a sound. But now he wished he could hear Andrew, could hear his breath, his moans, his voice… He wondered if the man had muted his mic.

“I wish you’d let me do this sometime right in front of you,” he said, voice breathy and eyes unfocused. “I could…” he slowed his strokes to a halt and rubbed his thumb over the leaking slit. “Fuck, I could look at you, watching me…” He hissed, massaged his balls lightly. “And you would tell me not to.” He laughed a little. And there it was, the slightest hitch of breath coming from the speakers right next to him. It sent a jolt of arousal down his spine and he shuddered. There you are…

“Fuck, Andrew…” He tilted his head back, ran his hand up all the way over his upper body, over his scars, up his throat, fingertips touching his lips and down again. “Mmh…” He spread his thighs wide and ran his fingertips over his perineum, back and forth, pressing down.

This was so different. Andrew bit down on his lower lip as he copied Neil, watched him touching himself. He wished he could touch him like that. He wished he could run his lips and tongue over that lithe body and taste his skin. He wanted to kiss his open mouth and hear those sounds right in front of him and not through those speakers. At least his cock agreed with him again. Watching Neil like this had woken his arousal within minutes.

Neil’s hand sped up, wrist twisting at the end of each stroke. He felt so hot; he didn't want to stop.

“Are you close?” Neil kept stroking, his grip firm. Andrew couldn't take his eyes off him.

“You talk to much,” Andrew hissed. He didn't mean it, he could have listened to this guy like this for hours.

“I have to. I can’t see you and you won’t let me hear you.”

“What are you thinking about?” He didn't say my turn but it was implied. He remembered their conversation and Neil’s refusal to tell him what his fantasies were about while he touched himself.

“You,” Neil said in a breathy voice. His face was a mask of pleasure, lips twitching, revealing his teeth, brows furrowed. Oh, he was good at this, knew all the right faces to make, all the right things to say, sounds to make. Andrew would have enjoyed it even more, if he could ignore the fact that Neil was acting for him. He could see that Neil was getting close now.

“It’s my turn.” He said it now. “What are you really thinking about?” Neil did look at him then, straight into the camera, somewhat angry for a second but it was too late for him now.

“You,” he gritted out and looked right at him. Neil gasped as he came but didn't look away. The goalkeeper couldn’t take his eyes off him. Well, fuck, was all Andrew could think for a second. And then he tensed up, face contorting into a mask that could have been pain but was just the sudden release of his mounting pleasure, taking him by surprise and full force. He gasped and cursed, his muscles contracting, his toes curling as he came all over his upper body.

He shuddered and took a few harsh breaths before he remembered that Neil could hear him. Andrew looked at the screen. Neil was still there, looking at the ceiling, one arm draped over his stomach, listening. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Neil sat up and wiped his sticky hand on his thigh, not using the sheets, like Andrew had. He got up to shut the camera off.

“Wait.” Andrew felt a sudden unease. He didn't want to face Neil right now, but he didn't want him to leave either. Neil waited. What the hell did he want, Andrew asked himself. It was already three in the morning. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Neil didn't move.

“Tonight, I mean. Stay.” He wasn't sure about this.

“Andrew…,” Neil began to say.

“Just –whatever, I’ll pay you, so stay. You can lock the door.” Neil looked at the bedroom door and saw the key. He thought about it.

“Yeah, okay,” he said slowly.

“Bathroom, the door next to yours on the right.” He watched Neil leaving the room and heard the door to the guest bathroom opening and closing again through his own closed bedroom door. Andrew got up and used his own bathroom. When he came back, Neil had just gotten into his underwear again. “Leave the camera on.” Neil sighed. This was against the rules, Andrew remembered. “You can turn the lights off.”

“Then what’s the point? You won’t be able to see anything.” Yeah, well, he just wanted to. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and catch Neil, still asleep.

“Yes or no?”

“Fine,” Neil sighed and moved out of the picture to shut the lights off. All that was left was the soft glow of the phone on the bed, displaying the ongoing connection between them. Andrew could hear Neil climbing into bed, saw him picking up the phone. “You want me to stay on the phone too? My battery won't last.”

“No.” He wasn't that much of a creep. Besides, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he kept listening to every sound Neil made. It would be hard enough as things were without that.

“I’m hanging up now. Good night, Andrew.”

“Night.”

Andrew had not seen Neil waking up this morning. He spent the next few hours unable to sleep in his bed, staring at the black screen. When the sun had finally come up, he hadn't been able to catch more than a glimpse of Neil’s dark hair; the rest of him hidden by the covers. Another hour of watching but not seeing anything later, Andrew had finally drifted off into a light sleep.

A sound from the living room woke him up again, not even three hours later. Neil was already awake, the camera shut down.

Andrew got dressed in faded jeans and a long-sleeve shirt and left his bedroom. He found Neil standing in the middle of the room, fully dressed, with one of his goalkeeper racquets in hand. He must have been snooping around a little, Andrew realized. He kept those in his apartment gym. –It was really just one of the rooms he had no other use for, equipped with the essentials; weights, pull up bar on his power rack, a bench and a skipping rope.

Fanboy mode again, Andrew thought. Neil looked guiltily back at him.

“Sorry. I just–“

“Thought you’d put it back before I woke up and get away with sniffing around,” Andrew guessed and Neil winced. “Whatever.” He didn't care. Who was he to judge? He had followed this guy home like a stalker.

“I thought you are a backliner.”

“I am. –I mean… I play pretty much whatever is needed. Goalie is the only position I’ve never tried.”

“Uh huh.” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest, not really interested at the moment.

“Sorry,” Neil said again and moved to put the racquet back where he had found it.

“Geez, forget it. Just leave it there,” Andrew said and waved a hand in the general direction of the living room, while he went over to make some coffee. Neil hadn't gotten any yet. As if Andrew would have given a shit about the guy making breakfast after he had told him to stay the night. “Coffee,” he asked, noticing his rising temper. Rough night, he reminded himself.

“Uhm, okay.” Neil came closer, the racquet gone and leaned against the bar.

“And something to eat?” The overpriced machine did its work and produced the first dose of much-needed caffeine infused beverage.

“No, thanks. I need to go soon.” Was that the not eating with clients shit again? Or was it something else? Had Neil been waiting for him to wake up? For what? Talking about last night? Well, tough luck, wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Or was it something else… Andrew turned around and handed Neil his coffee. “Thanks.”

“Hm,” Andrew replied and took a sip of his own coffee. Neil looked ill at ease. “Early client,” Andrew guessed, voice none too kindly. Fuck, he was so dammed irritated. Neil frowned and put the coffee down onto the bar.

“No.” The frown lines on his forehead deepened, his mouth twisted downward. Offended? Could he blame him for guessing? Well, maybe.

“Then what?” It was too early for games. He didn't even mean to antagonize the man.

“The file on your laptop –did you delete it?” Ah, that.

“No.” There was an involuntary twitch, and those blue eyes stared down at his coffee, not meeting his hazel ones.

“Could you delete it? Please?” Manners. Neil could just tell him to get the fuck on with it. It was what they had agreed on. Seemed like he didn't trust him to honor that agreement though. What kind of bastard do you think I am?

“Yeah.” Neil looked up at him, judging. “Should I do it right now? Wanna watch me do it?” He tried to reach for his usual not-giving-a-shit personality, but he had misplaced it somewhere last night. He was taunting Neil for responses he didn't like, just so he could take it out on him.

“Yes, please.” And there it was. It wasn't begging, he reminded himself. It was just polite bullshit.

“Stop it.”

“What?” The taller man looked confused.

“Stop saying that,” Andrew replied coldly.

“But you said–“

“‘Please’, stop saying that. It makes me wanna puke and I haven't even eaten yet.”

Still confused, Neil replied, “Okay…” Andrew sighed and glared at him. This was fucked up. This was not how things should go after last night. Neil needed to leave now or he would do something he would regret later and Andrew was not fond of regrets.

“Come on,” he muttered and tried to get a grip. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went back to his bedroom door. Before he opened it, he turned and stared at Neil. He didn't want the man in there, he realized. Not today. Not after last night. Andrew pointed at the floor between them, telling Neil to stay, like you would with a well trained dog. Neil did and Andrew left the door open for him to watch. He got the laptop and took it out into the hallway. There he let Neil watch as he deleted the video file and wiped it off the hard drive. He assumed Neil had taken care of the camera already. “Happy now?”

“Yes. Thanks.” Politeness was like an armor for some people, Andrew knew. They hid behind it, making it harder to attack them. It didn't work with him but he didn't tell Neil that. Andrew didn't give a fuck about politeness. All he wanted was honesty, no matter how crudely it was delivered.

“Good.” He turned and tossed the laptop across the room back onto the bed. Lucky for the thing, it stayed on top and didn't bounce off the other side. He faced Neil again and looked at the man. No wonder he was confused about the whole thing. Andrew himself couldn't figure out what was going on right now.

“I have to go now.” Yes, you do. He nodded. He followed Neil to the apartment door, watched him pulling on his shoes and reaching for his jacket.

Before he could leave though, Andrew opened his mouth without thinking. “Hey.” Neil turned around again and waited. Andrew didn't even know what he had wanted to say. He had simply wanted to stop the man when he had seen him leaving like that.

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Neil kept looking at him a moment longer, and then he nodded.

“See you.” Would he? After the one-eighty he had pulled last night? He wanted to.

“See you,” he agreed and closed the door.

<<Chapter 10 Chapter 12>>

#lntycm #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug XII

They sat in a little Vietnamese restaurant, her choice, at a small table in the last corner, his. They had ordered, and then chose to ignore the awkward small talk in favor of briefly discussing next week’s team schedule. When the food came Allison changed the topic.

“I agree this will be a little awkward, Minyard, but humor me. Why the rent boy? And I’m not even talking about this,” she held up the file, “piece of …work,” she checked herself. “It’s not like you are ugly. Yes, you are –let’s say complicated, for argument’s sake, but there are far worse guys out there who get by without paying.”

She handed him the file, which he put to the side. He wouldn’t read it here. Andrew would have preferred to do this at home, but she had insisted. “I’ll cover this up for you but not the next one. So be careful.” His face was as impassive as a marble statue. Allison sighed. She took another bite of her summer roll and decided to change tactics again.

“You are just listening because I brought you the file, I know. But seriously, did you see the interview with Knox and Moreau? The fans love it. Fuck the homophobic douchebags out there. There are enough people who’d willingly tear them to shreds. They’d make you look tame in comparison, Andrew. If you’d just play nice for the media…” He gave her a look. “Okay, fine, I’d like to have my own gay Exy couple to sell. Can you blame me? It sells.” Apparently, his food was more interesting than her conversation.

“Is this going to be one of those conversations where you don’t speak a single word?” She got no reaction out of him this time. “You know what? I don’t care. I talk enough for the both of us, and I still speak Minyard fluently.” That one was a lie. He let it slip. She knew it too, because she stopped talking for a little while and finished her dish.

“Why did you never make a move on Kevin?” Allison didn’t look up this time. Her tone had dropped to a more serious note, which told him that they had moved on from gossip girl to personally invested ex-teammate. “You like him. Don’t tell me you don’t. You’ve spent too much time with him, it’s so obvious.”

“I wonder what Thea would have to say to that conversation,” he scoffed. It was the first thing he’d said since the food arrived.

“Thea?” There was real amusement in her voice, which made his cá kho tộ taste bitter all of the sudden. “She’d be the least of your problems, believe me. She actually asked me if there is anything between you two. Seems like she doesn’t trust Kevin to tell her the truth.” Andrew glared at his plate. “Is he not your type?”

“Kevin suffers from a condition that makes him seriously unattractive.”

“What?” she asked, bemused and eager to hear it.

“Exy brain.”

She laughed at that. “That’s also your ticket into his… wherever you would want to go. All you need to do is to talk Exy to him. That’s all it takes, apparently. At least if you believe Thea.” He was done with this topic. Kevin was no one he allowed into those kinds of thoughts. He had been basically inseparable from the guy for years. There had been only two options: keep Kevin completely out of any kind of fantasies and stick a huge, metal warning sign with KEEP OUT written on it in front, or go all the way. There had been no room in-between for him.

“Gross.”

“I think he’d be good for you.” He didn’t look up while he reached for his wallet and left enough money on the table to cover the bill. “See you, Andrew,” she told him and he left without another word, the file in his hand. He had what he came for.

He lit a cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. Good for him, she’d said, Kevin… He inhaled deeply and frowned at the cloudy sky. No, he decided, he wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole. Kevin was many things to him, and maybe ‘good’ was on that list, but that didn’t mean he would change anything between them and risk it all. It also didn’t mean he would be good for Kevin.

“You did good.” Neil received a loving pat on his ass before his client finally got up, disposed of the condom and vanished into the bathroom of the hotel room. Neil rubbed his cheek against the bed sheets until his black blindfold slid upwards. Some clients wanted him to stay still until he was finally dismissed. This one didn't care either way and had actually watched him once before escaping his bonds, leaning against the doorframe, saying nothing while admiring the view.

Neil’s wrists were tied behind his back with a zip tie. The scissors to cut them lay on the bedside table. Neil preferred zip ties above any other kind of restraints because he could break them without much effort by himself, no matter if they were tied in front or back. Duct tape was fine too, and could be escaped by the same technique. Neil could pick the locks of handcuffs without seeing them. Lock picking in general was a skill he had acquired early in his life. Ropes on the other hand, ropes could be nasty things. Depending on the material and skill of the one tying them, they could be pretty much impossible to escape from without assistance. Neil avoided them whenever he could, in fact, he charged extra for bondage and only allowed it with long-term clients.

He shook his head to get rid of the blindfold entirely. What worried him was that lingering weakness in his limbs he couldn't get rid of all day. Getting out of bed this morning had taken some effort. He was almost sure he was coming down with something. He hadn't told his client. Maybe a dick move on his part, but quite frankly, Neil didn't give a shit if he gave the man a common cold or a sore throat. He could get that everywhere and Neil had bills to pay.

He waited, lying on his stomach, until his client returned and cut his restraints. The back of his thighs burned when he sat up. They were angry red but it would fade soon enough, leaving no mark behind. His client got dressed without another word. That was normal. Once they were done this man never wasted many words. Neil thought he was still replaying the scene they had just done in his head and didn't like to be disturbed doing so. He was more than okay with that. Neil hated any kind of aftercare. He got dressed without bothering to use the bathroom or clean up in any way. All he wanted today was to get paid and go home. He could take care of everything once he got there. He was tired.

The man in front of him handed him his money, as usual, in a blank, regular white envelope. Neil counted it briefly, but he knew he was being paid the amount they had agreed on. This was one of his regulars. They exchanged a look and a nod and it was Neil who left first.

The elevator seemed to take ages. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache. Neil sighed. Getting sick was always a problem. He counted himself lucky that he had never come down with something serious. He had his fair share of minor infections and other smaller injuries though. He took care of them himself whenever he could, avoiding physicians and hospitals as much as possible.

Please, let this be just a cold, he prayed to no god in particular. If there was someone up there watching him, he was some kind of a sadist and Neil didn't require any more of his special attention if possible.

He wasn't surprised that it was still raining outside. It had been raining all day. It still sucked. He needed to get something to eat on his way home after skipping the grocery shopping today. He wasn't hungry, but he also wasn't a fool, and he knew he needed to eat. Maybe he wouldn't be able to tomorrow if he had caught some kind of stomach bug. Those usually sucked. He settled on Subway for tonight and hurried home. Another thing that had bothered him the last couple of days was the feeling of being watched. It could be his paranoia catching up again, but Neil wouldn’t dismiss it so easily. He kept looking for someone following him, for anything unusual, but he found nothing.

The sandwich ended up on his kitchen counter while Neal dragged himself into his bathroom. All he wanted to do right now was to lie down, but he knew that once he was on his bed, he wouldn't get up anymore tonight. He stood in front of the sink, took his contacts out, took some Advil, and stepped into the shower where he scrubbed himself clean twice.

Back in the kitchen, he managed half of his sandwich before giving up and going to bed early. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders and shivered. Great, he thought, definitely going to be sick in the morning.

He woke with a pounding headache and a sore throat. He tried swallowing a few times, but it made no difference. Neil put a hand over his eyes to block out the light. Staying in bed sounded like a great idea. His headache couldn’t be ignored though. Slowly, Neil got up and shuffled over into his bathroom. He looked like shit when his eyes looked back at him from within the mirror. Bedhead was an understatement and his paleness wasn’t the flattering kind, neither were those dark circles under his eyes. He swallowed some painkillers and leaned in closer to the mirror. His auburn hair was showing at the roots again. He needed to take care of that. Neil brushed his teeth in hope the minty toothpaste would ease his sore throat a little. It did not. He relieved himself and made it back to his bed.

Sleep kept eluding him for the next two hours, even after his headache had subsided. He felt tired though and didn’t get back up until it was past noon. Assessing his condition again, Neil got dressed and decided to get the grocery shopping done now, in case this would turn into more than a sore throat later. He had made that mistake once before and would never make it again. Being barely able to get out of bed with no food at home for three days, while suffering from crippling paranoia had been a terrible experience. He hadn’t even dared to order something to eat back then, his mind had been too hazy from fever dreams.

‘Help me,’ had never been on the tip of his tongue. ‘I’m fine,’ was his personal mantra. It was way easier to accept than ‘I’m alone’.

He dressed in warm clothes beneath his jacket and left his apartment. Almost immediately the feeling of being watched returned. He lowered his head and walked faster. Behind him a car started, but he had not heard the driver getting in. Neil glanced backwards and saw a black Audi with tinted windows pulling slowly into the street behind him. Shit! Suddenly, the next corner seemed impossibly far away. Neil kept walking for a few more paces, but the car didn’t speed up. They knew they had been noticed. Worse, they knew where he lived.

Neil’s feet hit the pavement in a sudden burst of speed. He ran down the street, around the next corner, down two blocks, left again when he reached the old church and behind it the run-down school. He climbed the fence there and kept running. Teenagers were turning their heads, calling after him, but he didn’t stop. The fear and sudden rush of adrenalin kept his legs moving but not for long. He was sure he had gotten rid of the black Audi, when his knees buckled and he had to catch himself on a wall, panting. Shit, shit, shit… Where should he go? He felt like throwing up, was sweating and couldn’t catch his breath.

Don’t do this now, he told himself. If he was losing his shit now, if he would give in and let the fear take over, he wouldn’t make it. He would bolt and run blindly like he used to years ago. Get a grip! His feet started to move again, slower this time, with his knees shaking a little. Every face turning in his direction felt like a threat, and he kept walking. He found the next subway station and took the next train. He didn’t care in which direction it took him. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he kept moving for now.

He switched trains again and again, made it halfway across the city and changed directions again. He knew he was being paranoid while he kept looking for suspicious faces among the passengers. Neil got off at a random station with no other goal in mind than to escape the people who had taken the same subway as him, who had entered the same time he had and not gotten off again. He couldn’t stand being around them right now, they made him nervous. It was dark outside when he exited the station. Neil had never been in this part of the city before and felt suddenly lost. It was irrational, of course. All he had to do was to take the train back.

He found a bench and sat down, thoughts still racing. How had they found him? Could he be sure it was them? Who else would it be? But why would they follow him if they already knew where he lived? It made no sense. Had he made a mistake? Had he overreacted? No, no, thinking that was foolish and dangerous.

His hand reached into his pocket for his phone to check the time. Almost seven. Without thinking, he went through his contacts until he found Andrew. Just looking at his name felt comforting for some reason. Neil waited for a few minutes, but it didn’t feel like he could get up and leave right now. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled forcefully. His chest felt tight. His thumb hovered over the call button. It took him a long moment to give in, and some part of him hoped Andrew wouldn’t pick up.

“What?” Neil closed his eyes as Andrew answered his call. He opened his mouth to say something, but his brain came up short of a reply. There was an awkward pause while both of them waited for the other to speak.

“Neil?” Neil took a shuddering breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“You know, that’s the first time you called me by my name.” He tried very hard to keep his voice even. It ended up sounding flat in a way that rivaled Andrew’s tone.

“Is it?” Yes, it was, he was sure of it.

“Hm?” He just wanted to listen to Andrew’s voice for a little longer. He didn't want to be alone right now.

“Your name?” Andrew asked. What? He hadn't believed him back then? Was that the reason why he never used it?

Neil managed a pathetic sounding laugh. “Yeah. It is.”

“Where are you?” He wanted to tell him. He wanted to see if Andrew would come and get him, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had nothing to offer right now. He needed to go home and figure it out. Sitting outside in the middle of nowhere wouldn't help one bit. It would only trigger his panic attacks and then he would really be in trouble.

“Don’t ask.” There was silence then. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to call. Really, I’m fine. Forget it…” He was babbling, he realized. With something close to panic, he hung up. It took him another hour to get home. The car was long gone but he hurried inside nevertheless.

Andrew’s next message woke him early Tuesday morning. ’tonight?’ The goalkeeper must have been on his way to an early training session. Neil had hoped to feel better by now, but that hope had dwindled and left him with the harsh reality. This was not just a cold. He was sick.

‘Can’t make it this week.’ He had planed to text Andrew this morning, but the Exy player had beaten him to it. ‘Sorry,’ he added. He got no response for hours and drifted back into sleep. By the time Andrew did text back, he had not expected him to anymore. It was already late in the evening.

‘can I come up?’ It was the same message he had sent Andrew when he had shown up at his apartment unannounced in the middle of the night. Neil wanted to say no, for more than one reason, but it was because Andrew used the exact same question that he felt bad about refusing.

Neil sighed and coughed and made a face when it hurt like a bitch. He was not one of those people who preferred to suffer for the entire world to see. He was the exact opposite. Maybe Andrew would be satisfied to see him and leave afterwards. Neil didn’t think he would have the energy to face the man tonight. He texted his short reply to Andrew and got up, taking a moment to get rid of the dizziness.

Andrew could tell by Neil’s guarded expression that the man wasn't thrilled to see him. He could also see by the hand that grabbed the doorframe for support, the old t-shirt and sweatpants he was wearing, and his more than pale face that he felt like crap. Andrew took it all in and something must have shown on his face because Neil furrowed his brows and managed to look as much annoyed as pained as he finally let go of the cracked-open door to reveal the rest of himself.

“…o…ease, ’t’s just strep throat,” he croaked, the first words unintelligible.

“You sure about that?” He meant it like ‘you look half dead’, mocking, not in a worried, caring way –well, maybe a little.

“Yeah,” Neil sighed and Andrew got the impression that it wasn't the first time this had happened.

“Can I come in?” Not what Neil had expected, he figured out, when the man looked at him in bewilderment. Newsflash, I’m not here just to make sure one of your tricks hasn't beaten the shit out of you.

“Suit yourself.” Neil turned around and left the door open. He went straight back into the main room of his studio apartment and sat down on his bed, leaning slightly forward and grabbing the simple wooden frame with both hands, eyes staring at the floor in front of him.

Andrew closed the door behind himself and looked around. Small hallway, bathroom door to the left, shoes right next to the door, and an Exy racquet leaning against the wall. Backliner, on the heavier side, well used but still in good condition. The single room had an antiquated kitchen unit to the right, Neil’s bed stood in the corner to the left, his Exy gear lay next to Andrew at the door on the floor, a DIY clothing rack hung from the ceiling next to it, and a metal drawer stood right next to that. End of story. No table, no couch, not even a rug on the old hardwood floor. The place was clean but managed to look beyond run down. Andrew was intrigued.

His main object of interest still sat on his bed, was still looking at the floor, as if waiting for the verdict. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Not yet.” Meaning he wouldn’t; after all, he had diagnosed himself already. Fool. Andrew leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He could hear Neil swallow with some difficulty through his swollen throat, could imagine the pain it caused. Strep throat, not exactly one of his favorites either. He had it a few times when had been a kid.

“So you relish any kind of pain.” He went over to the kitchen unit and looked inside the fridge. Almost empty, no empty takeout containers in sight either.

“What?” Sounded like Neil wasn't his witty self today and had trouble following the conversation. “No,” he finally answered, a little annoyed maybe. A sick Neil was a grumpy one, Andrew decided. Not the only one he knew of that kind. He closed the fridge again.

“Go back to bed,” he said and turned, leaving the room and Neil behind, closing the door.

An hour later he was back, managed to wake Neil again, and repeated their meeting upstairs at the apartment door.

“Now what?” Oh yeah, definitely grumpy while sick. Andrew simply raised his chin, shoulders squared and waited; watched Neil caving and stepping back again. So easy.

“Catch,” he told him, as he passed him on his way back into the kitchen. Nice reflexes, he noted when Neil caught the box of Penicillin he had aimed at his head.

“Where did you get that?” Suspicion, really now? He had told the guy he was using drugs, but Neil frowned at Penicillin?

“Not from your doctor,” he scoffed. Andrew found three glasses above the sink, filled one with water, and brought it over to the bed.

“Thanks,” the taller man managed to find his manners. Andrew waited until he had taken the medicine and took the now empty glass again. He grabbed a few strands of black hair, palm pressing against Neil’s forehead and pushed. It didn't take much force until Neil tilted and fell back onto the bed, grunting in protest to be manhandled like that.

“Lie down.” Slight fever. Andrew went back and washed his hands, then searched for plates and forks so he could split the Chinese takeout between the two of them. Maybe not the healthiest choice, but he had felt like it. And Neil –well, beggars can’t be choosers. His host wasn't exactly chatty today anyway. Andrew doubted he would complain. He brought the two plates and the refilled glass back to Neil and raised an eyebrow. The young man lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, one knee raised, naked toes curled and gripping the bed sheets, cheeks flushed, goosebumps on his naked forearms. Andrew blinked. He couldn't figure that one out, he realized. Embarrassment? Shame? Maybe, he wasn't sure why though.

Neil noticed Andrew had been staring and lowered the arm to look up at the goalkeeper. He noticed the plates and accepted one, sitting up in the process, propped his back up against the wall and tugged his legs in to leave room for the other man. Andrew ignored that and sat down in front of the bed on the floor. He placed the glass next to the bed, out of the way, but still in reach for later and started to eat, facing the strangely empty room.

What was he doing here, he asked himself. This wasn’t why he had come here. The reason he had come was the file in his apartment, and the unexpected text telling him that Neil didn’t want to see him this week. Running away, he had wondered. And what had been the deal with that last phone call? Well, the man was obviously sick but he didn’t strike Andrew as someone who would ask for help. No, he thought, this guy would suffer in silence.

He took the now empty plates and put them aside. One look at Neil told him, that the man was more than uncomfortable with him being here. He didn’t say anything, but he kept that glare fixed on his face. Another broken rule. Well, Neil had that one coming from when he had shown up at his apartment before.

“So hostile. I just fed you, you know?” Neil lowered his gaze at that, staring at his blanket. His response was unintelligible due to another coughing fit. It looked like it hurt quite a bit. “Could be mono,” Andrew observed. Could be a lot of things. Coughing didn’t usually present that severely in strep throat infections. Neil shot him another angry look between coughs.

“Told you it’s strep,” he croaked. It almost sounded like he needed to convince himself the most of all. Why? Afraid it might be something else?

“And a cold? Whom did you fuck recently? A walking cesspool? Did you charge him extra?” Andrew was getting annoyed. He had kissed this guy recently. Granted, that had been three days ago, and he should have noticed something by now, but still.

Neil sighed and leaned back again, one hand covering his eyes. “I might have been outside running,” he admitted. What an idiot. And how did he manage to look so miserable all of the sudden? How annoying. Andrew watched him for a while, saw his throat working and the feverish color rising in his cheeks, saw the nervous tension in his body that could have only been caused by having someone he didn’t trust around in his state.

“Yes or no,” Andrew asked in a low voice, hand hovering in the air above Neil’s head. No friend of words today, Neil gazed up at it for a moment, then turned his head and leaned into the touch. He sank back into the pillow once more, and Andrew’s hand followed him, fingers playing with black strands of hair. The gesture had pleased Andrew. There was no real trust between them, but Neil was willing to risk it for him, even if they met outside their business arrangement. Or was this part of his scheme?

After a few minutes, Neil turned around to face the wall. Neither of them spoke, but Andrew was about to pull his hand back when Neil reached up to grab it, glancing over his shoulder. He didn’t touch Andrew’s hand but waited, and Andrew closed the gap and moved his hand up into Neil’s waiting palm. Closing his eyes again, Neil pulled Andrew’s hand back down on top of his head and squeezed once before letting go. Andrew humored him once more. Odd, crossed his mind, and it took him a moment to place the thought. It was, he realized, the fact that Neil trusted him enough to bare his back to him, something Andrew would never do. But not everyone was like him. For some people trust came easy. He just hadn’t thought Neil would be one of them.

There was nothing sexual about this, yet it felt awfully intimate. Andrew hadn't been keen on any physical contact after the disaster in his living room, he realized; apart from the kiss in the parking lot, and that had been mostly anger and frustration. They were back to square one, him touching Neil, and the other man waiting for permission.

Andrew was lost in thought, running his fingers through Neil’s hair over and over, until the young man shivered again. “Cold?” Neil shook his head. Then what? Andrew thought about that strange picture of Neil lying on his back again.

After a while, the taller man turned around, squinting at Andrew. “I don’t mean to kick you out, but I really don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

Andrew stood up. The file could wait another day or two, he decided. Neil didn’t look like he would run away any time soon. He turned to leave, when Neil sat up. “Andrew.” The goalkeeper waited. “Thank you.”

“Shut up and get some sleep.”

To say Neil had felt uncomfortable with Andrew around would be an understatement. No clients at home –don’t think about it. Not now. You got bigger problems right now. The visit of the goalkeeper had left him in a strangely vulnerable state of mind.

He had woken up in the middle of the night, imagining that he had heard something –no, someone inside his apartment. No one had been in his kitchen/living room/bedroom, which had left him with the small hallway and the bathroom. He had grabbed his Exy racquet from beside the door to hunt down his imaginary intruder in his tiny apartment. His fever had spiked, but Neil knew all too well that his mind was capable of playing tricks on him even on his best days. Feeling exhausted, he had slumped down onto his bed again with his Exy racquet by his side. It was still there.

The feeling of not being alone hadn’t left him afterwards. More than once, Neil had carefully looked outside the window to check for the black Audi. It hadn’t turned up again. Maybe they had gotten rid of it. Neil didn’t dare to turn on the lights anymore.

Andrew’s text in the early afternoon made him jump. ‘still alive?’ A sigh of relief escaped him and Neil rubbed a hand over his pale face.

‘People don’t die of strep.’ Texting with Andrew made him feel calmer immediately. It made him feel like he was not alone. As much as he hated the thought of visitors, now that Andrew had broken that rule he wished the man would come by again. It was very unprofessional of him to think so, he admitted.

‘idiots who run in the cold might. did u put that theory to the test again?’ He would if he could, Neil knew, not for exercise though.

‘No.’ The walls were closing in. He hated that feeling. ‘How was your day?’ He had Andrew’s permission now to make this a little more personal, right? He honestly didn’t know anymore what was going on between them.

‘r u bored’ He frowned down at his phone.

‘Are you driving?’ There was nothing for a while. Neil closed his eyes, but kept the phone in his hand.

‘what’s for dinner’ Right, he should eat. The thought of leaving his apartment was anything but appealing.

‘Haven’t decided yet.’ Maybe he should order in.

‘tick tock says the clock’ Was he asking him? ‘cut the not eating crap already. it’s getting old’ Really? Neil felt a sudden rush of excitement.

‘Your choice.’ He shivered a little, and it wasn’t entirely because of his illness.

‘30mins’ Right. Time to get cleaned up a little. Grabbing a change of clothes, his second sweat pants and his black knitted sweater, Neil took a quick shower.

Half an hour later, he opened the door for Andrew. The goalkeeper regarded him with a scrutinizing look. Neil knew that he didn’t look his best at the moment. For someone who’s looks were a huge part of his job, it wasn’t a comfortable thought.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he answered automatically. “Come in,” Neil offered, more to escape Andrew’s eyes for a moment than to be polite. Andrew passed him by and Neil could hear him inhaling a little deeper. The taller man blinked. “What…,” he asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

“Last time was the first time I hadn’t met you fresh out of the shower.” Neil closed the door and followed Andrew.

“That’s what happens if you show up unannounced,” Neil answered unapologetically.

“I thought it was a hooker thing –but maybe not.” The blonde put two pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter and looked at him again. Neil sighed. Andrew calling him a hooker again squashed his rising mood.

“It’s not,” he agreed. Those hazel eyes looked at him piercingly. Neil wondered for a moment if the goalkeeper had taken something again, but his pupils looked normal. Judging the room to be too dark, Andrew flicked the light switch on. A wave of uneasiness swallowed Neil and he fought hard not to let it show. He buried his hands in his pockets.

“Lies should hurt, Neil. The truth only hurts when you have something to hide.” His eyes widened as he heard Andrew say those words. He swallowed, ignored the pain it caused him. Andrew saying his name would take some getting used to. Andrew calling him a liar was nothing new, and the goalkeeper thinking that he needed to rub Neil’s face in his precious truths wasn’t either. The combination of all three made Neil feel uncomfortable.

“And here I was, thinking we could leave the hooker thing out of this apartment. That’s what you get if a john comes to visit, right? Silly me.” He tried not to sound too indignant about it. Andrew grinned and wagged a finger at him.

“Oh, Neil,” he mocked. The taller man narrowed his eyes.

“You know, that name will wear off if you use it so much all of the sudden.”

“It’s yours, right?” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Yes, I’ve told you. That’s my name. You don’t like it or something?” Why could they never get along? He had looked forward to seeing Andrew tonight and now they were already taunting each other again. “Whatever,” he said, before Andrew could reply. “I’m a little irritated today.” He would take the blame this time. It was his peace offering.

“I couldn’t tell,” Andrew joked. He nodded at the pizza. “Hungry?” No, Neil thought. He had been earlier, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anymore.

“Let’s eat,” he agreed nevertheless. Since his place lacked most of the usual furniture, they sat down in front of his bed. Andrew led by example, seemingly avoiding Neil’s bed, and went once again over to examining the room while they ate.

“It’s nothing like your place,” Neil said, “but what’s so interesting? I don’t get it.” There was nothing really interesting here, he thought. The only thing he’d regret leaving behind would be his Exy gear if it came to that. It probably would; most likely sooner than later now.

Andrew shrugged and finished another slice. “Fits you,” was all he had to say. Neil took a deliberate breath in and out through his nose. An empty apartment fit Andrew’s assumptions of a hooker, most likely. He didn’t ask. He pushed his half-eaten pizza away.

“How was practice,” he changed the topic, drumming his fingers on his leg.

“The usual,” the goalkeeper replied, not trying to keep the conversation alive.

“Tell me about it.” Neil fidgeted a little. He could hear a car stopping in front of the house, heard the doors opening and closing. Immediately his thoughts jumped to a black Audi.

“A bunch of people running behind a ball across the field, swinging sticks around.” Andrew sounded bored. He left his last two slices untouched and pushed the pizza box away.

“Sounds awesome to me,” Neil said, but his usual enthusiasm when it came to Exy was painfully missing. The words were empty, his mind miles away. Andrew didn’t say anything this time, declaring the conversation dead. He might actually leave now, Neil realized. He didn’t want that. The whole evening had felt full of tension. He didn’t want to guess what it would feel like to be alone again now.

He was getting nervous. The feeling was driving him insane. The urge to run wouldn't leave him anymore and he could do nothing about it. His own body wouldn't let him, and he felt the panic rising again.

“Can I ask you for something?” Even asking permission was difficult. He avoided Andrew’s eyes.

“Go ahead.” Andrew seemed curious. Neil made himself look up and face him, because even though he felt pathetic, it didn't mean he wanted to display it openly.

“Can we go somewhere? Can we take your car and just get out of here for a while?” He felt close to begging at this point. Andrew looked at him, trying to figure something out, and Neil couldn't take it right now. “Ask me to do something in return, just, please, Andrew–“ He winced but Andrew had noticed.

“I hate begging.”

“Sorry. I know, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. Stop babbling, he told himself. Andrew kept watching him. Neil couldn't tell for how long. It could have been minutes or seconds, he just tried to keep himself together in front of the man, tried to stay calm and fight the panic down.

“My turn,” Andrew said suddenly and Neil flinched.

“Not right now,” he managed weakly. He couldn't do this right now. He wouldn't be able to dodge any important questions.

“Tell me why you are afraid.” Andrew ignored him.

“Andrew,” Neil said pleadingly. He felt cornered. There was sweat trickling down his neck. It erupted on his forehead and temples from his pores and his heart was pounding.

“Who are you running from?” The goalkeeper showed no signs of pity. His voice was as flat as usual but suddenly cold instead of uncaring.

“Andrew,” Neil whined. This was a nightmare; Neil tried to tell himself it was just another nightmare. But then, why was his stomach hurting and why was his chest getting tight and wouldn't let him breath? No, that wasn't right. He was breathing; he was getting close to hyperventilating already. He had lost the race; the panic had caught up. He needed to get out. He tried to get up, tried to get onto his feet but Andrew wouldn't let him. He tried to fight him, but that was impossible.

“Get out,” he tried to scream. His voice cracked. He was going to be sick. Saliva was already pooling in his mouth. “Get away from me!” He gaged and pressed a hand over his mouth with a choking sound. Now Andrew let him up and watched him stumble across the room, watched as he barely caught himself on the doorframe, before his legs gave out under him, and he half crawled, half stumbled the last two steps into the bathroom.

Neil knew this was a panic attack. It wasn't his first one and it wouldn't be his last. He would make it through it, but it didn't feel like it right now. It never did.

While he was on his knees in front of the toilet, vomiting and gasping for breath, he heard Andrew entering the bathroom behind him.

“Who’s gonna kiss you now?” There were tears and sweat and snot on Neil’s face, and he could do nothing about it right now. It was hard enough to stay upright. Andrew’s mocking words could have cut him to the bone, but he just felt numb. He could barely pay attention to them anyway. He thought Andrew should feel like a threat, standing behind him, watching him, but he didn’t.

“Tell me you are fine again, come on. Hate to break it to you, but your blanket of lies is full of holes. You have to work on that. You know, I enjoy your little lies, as long as they are creative.”

Andrew was angry with him. It registered somewhere in the back of his brain.

“Maybe we should play another game. No one is allowed to tell the truth anymore. You would be a natural, I’m sure. Or we skip everything relevant all together and just have small talk all the time. How about that? The weather is great, isn’t it? Looks like you didn't enjoy your dinner today. Too bad. You know, those meds won’t do you any good if you can’t keep them down.”

“Shut up,” he gasped, trying to stop himself from throwing up again. It hurt. It was just too much. “Fuck…” Andrew stood to the side, watching him, keeping his distance but not leaving either. He watched Neil unraveling, falling apart in front of him and took it all in. Neil had told him to shut up, but the silence felt even worse than all the mocking words. He couldn’t bear it to have Andrew just standing there like an observer. It made him feel exposed in all his twisted ugliness.

“Just… keep talking,” Neil gave in, sounding wrecked. He usually did this alone, if he could help it. He would run and hide and wait for it to be over. He had never done this in front of anyone, but Andrew wouldn't leave.

“What’s the highest score Kevin had in one game?” Neil took a few breaths and looked up at Andrew, head turned sideways. Exy?

“E… eleven. Last season. Second… match.” He coughed and spat into the toilet. Andrew didn't even bat an eyelash, nor did he look disgusted.

“Do you know how fast he is?” Of course he knew. He knew all about the man. He knew him better than Andrew. Kevin had lived his life exposed to the media.

“Yeah… runs a mile a–“ he coughed again, his stomach protested and made him dry-heave for a moment before he could take a breath, “…four fifteen,” he wheezed but managed a grin nevertheless. His brain was kicking back in while it coughed up those details through the mess it was in.

“What’s funny about that?”

“I’m faster…” He managed to get back up onto his feet and leaned his back against the wall opposite Andrew. His legs were still shaky but he was getting there. Up, get up on your feet. Don’t let them catch you on your knees…

“How fast?”

“Four minutes.” Neil wiped the back of his hand at the snot under his nose. It didn't help much. He leaned his head back and shivered, but kept his roiling stomach under control. He was getting through this, he could tell now. All this Exy talk was getting him through it. He took deep breaths and used the cool tiles behind him for much needed support. His knees felt weak, but he needed to stand upright for a moment to prove himself that he still could. He would run if he could but that was out of the question.

“How fast am I?” Neil blinked and squinted at Andrew. His brain was still slow. Finally, he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice sounding raw. Andrew shrugged.

“I don’t run.” Neil managed a pathetic excuse for a chuckle then, and allowed himself to slide down the wall, leaning his elbows onto his knees, and ran his shaky fingers through his sweaty hair. “But I could bench-press you.”

“Oh hell…” Neil took another deep breath and grinned. “Are you actually calling me fat?”

“Maybe?”

“Fuck off,” he managed and laughed. It sounded rough, weak.

“Are you done?” Showing concern or compassion clearly wasn't Andrew’s strong suit. Neil understood that, and he also understood that the goalkeeper was still supporting him in his own way. Turned out, it was enough.

“Yeah,” Neil sighed. “Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good.” Andrew turned around and left him. “Then get cleaned up. We are going out.”

<<Chapter 11 Chapter 13>>

#lntycm #andreil #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic #andrew minyard #neil josten

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug IX

The door fell shut and Andrew didn't move for a long moment. This was getting out of hand. Not the part where he had hit Neil. Andrew was no stranger to violence by any means. He knew both sides of it intimately. He had a strangely detached relationship to violence in general. It didn't faze him like it should –except when it did just now. Feeling guilty was something Andrew despised. How many times had he attacked some of the closest people in his life –his family, Kevin, his other teammates –intentionally or by accident without regret? And now, even after spelling it out for the guy, even after telling him ‘I might hurt you’ like some kind of insurance, he felt guilty for nearly breaking his nose. That idiot hadn't even touched him. He had tried to, true, but he hadn’t. He could have stopped. He could have realized at the last second. Could have, would have… didn't matter. He hadn't given him the chance this time, hadn't waited.

‘Do I really have to tell you that I’ve had worse?’ –No, but thanks for the reminder that you compare me to whoever left those scars on your skin. That had hit home. Nice. Look at you, getting in touch with those feelings. Maybe he had been a little shaky after thinking of Drake. Maybe he still was. Andrew took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. Still there. Fuck him. Getting haunted by the memory of a dead guy.

Drake, his foster brother, who had raped him as a child and once more when Andrew had been twenty, had been killed during his last deployment as a marine. Andrew would have liked to congratulate the man who had finally offed the bastard on a job well done.

Andrew tried to force those memories down once again, but they had already festered in his brain, corrupting his thoughts. He had two options for nights like this. Andrew chose the more unlikely one, because he felt like being unpredictable for a change. He took his phone and called Kevin. The striker picked up on the second ring.

“Andrew?” Noise in the background, somewhere public.

“Where are you?”

“I’m meeting Thea for dinner. Why?” Too bad.

“Nevermind.” He was sure Kevin could hear nothing in his voice. Andrew, on the other hand, could hear in the way Kevin hesitated that his teammate had seen through him though.

“…Should I come home?” It was their unspoken agreement. It had started when they came here to join the US Court. Suddenly, everything had changed; their teammates, the city they lived in, the university dorms they had traded for apartments… everything except themselves. They had dragged their demons along and moved in with them. After sharing a room for so long, it had been strange. Kevin had turned back to alcohol for a while and Andrew had started to self-medicate. One night, they had met at a bar. Kevin had already been drunk and Andrew had dragged him outside and into his car. It had been Kevin who had asked him to stay that night because he couldn't stand the empty apartment.

Andrew had stayed. He had done so three more times during the next two months, and Kevin stopped drinking again. He stayed over twice more since then, but it hadn't solved his drug problem. It just took the edge off sometimes; knowing that he could make the ten-minute drive and have his old roommate under the same roof again. Not tonight though.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“You sure?” Kevin was many things –arrogant, single-minded, obsessed with the game they played, a sadist on the court –but Kevin wasn’t cruel. Not intentionally, at least. It had been beaten out of him at Castle Evermore. He was loyal, if not always reliable. He would send Thea home tonight if Andrew asked him to, if he so much as hinted at it.

“I’m sure.” Andrew hung up. Option two then. If anyone asked him, Andrew would not admit to having a drug problem. The thought would amuse him though, after years of supervised medication. ‘Chemically imbalanced brain,’ someone had once said to him. Too bad no one knew what a chemically balanced brain in his case looked like. So they had meddled.

It was an open secret that a large percentage of the nation was overmedicated. Popping pills had become the answer to almost every problem. The list of long-term side effects of psychiatric drugs was endless, but while some people were busy adding their findings to the bottom of that list, others were just as busy erasing them at the top. Either way, the damage was done, and Andrew didn't much care about the consequences.

The wooden box standing on the sideboard under his big flatscreen was never empty. Neither was the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. He kept both well stocked. The box didn't look like much. It had once been a gift, part of some kind of advertisement deal, containing a bottle of overpriced scotch. The bottle was long gone but he had kept the box. Grabbing his cigarettes first, Andrew opened the window and leaned against the wall next to it. He gave Drake time to fuck off, until he’d throw the cigarette butt out the window. After that, he’d make him.

Neil lowered his head and sniffed. The bleeding had stopped. He angrily hurried on his way home. People kept looking at him. Well, of course they did. There was blood on his shirt and on his face, and he wore the fitting, dark expression that told of a fight.

He’d just left the station closest to his apartment when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out immediately, looking for the name on the screen that wouldn't leave his thoughts. Andrew, Andrew… The text wasn't from Andrew.

‘Sehen wir uns morgen Abend?’*

The German. He was back already? Neil didn't want to reply but he had to.

‘Ich kann morgen nicht. Sorry.’ He didn't feel sorry at all; not for declining, not for lying about it. He just couldn't face the man right now.

He jogged the last two minutes to his apartment, and fumbled with the keys at the door. He shrugged his jacket off and pulled the dirty shirt over his head as soon as the door closed behind him. The blood on it was already almost dry. Neil went into the bathroom and inspected the damage on his face. His nose looked fine but there was a bruise beneath his left eye. Shit. He washed the blood off his face, left the shirt in the sink to soak in cold water for a while, and stepped into the shower.

His mind returned to the scene at Andrew’s apartment. He had royally fucked that one up. He should have left after the blowjob like Andrew had wanted him to. He should have given the man the satisfaction of getting one step closer to his goal –whatever that might be –and leave everything else for another time. The sound Andrew had made when he had been on top of him… he could still hear it, that half-sob. He could still remember him shuddering. It made something in his gut clench in sympathy.

After cooling his head on his way home, Neil didn't mind the hit he had taken. The fact that Andrew had minded was enough for him to let it go. What remained was the question: would Andrew want to see him again. ‘This whole thing is disgusting.’ He had meant it. The revulsion at that moment had been palpable. Neil closed his eyes and let the water hit his face. Disgusting. Really? All of it? Part of it? Which part? The part where Andrew was paying for a prostitute? The fact that he had issues he couldn't talk about? ‘This whole thing…’ Liar. Liar, liar, liar… Takes one to know one, and Neil was the king among liars. –Or was he?

He had offered Andrew more of the truth than he had given to anyone in years. He kept his lies with the man to a bare minimum. Normally, he would have constructed a fake persona for the goalkeeper after their first meeting, would have given him a false name, a bunch of lies that made up enough of a background story to keep Andrew at a distance and Neil at ease. It was his safety net. The clients didn't find out about him and he kept himself removed. It worked both ways. But he had given Andrew Neil. While Neil was only part of Nathaniel Wesninski, it was the part Neil had chosen to keep. He had tried to outrun the rest of him. What had he been thinking to give Andrew that name?

Because Andrew Minyard was special to him. His Andrew Minyard was special, he reminded himself. The goalkeeper of the US Court, the face showing up in magazines, the prodigy standing in the goal, the man who had been at Kevin Day’s side since the day those two met in Palmetto. The man he envied, the guy who had everything.

This Andrew Minyard was nothing like him. Then why did he get attached to this version of him too? It should have been the opposite. It should have shattered his dreams. Expectations were a silly thing. All they ever did was disappoint.

Maybe it was all over now. If Andrew didn't contact him again, this would be the end of it. The thought alone woke something in him that had the familiar taste of panic to it. Actual fucking fear, dreadful and promising emotional pain. Why? Because he had gone too far and now he was trapped.

Neil shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He left the shirt where it was; he would wash it later. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off half-heartedly, then flung the towel onto the bed. He got dressed in sweatpants and a hoody and went over to his fridge to make himself something to eat. The sandwich was gone before he even realized it. He couldn't appreciate his food tonight. His thoughts where a mile away. He felt restless and tired at the same time. Eyeing his racquet over his shoulder, he gave in to the familiar pull of his obsession. Better than drugs, better than sex, Exy would always be his way out of his own head. The day his body wouldn’t let him play anymore would be the day he wanted to die. Neil turned around, grabbed his keys, tied his shoes, and took a ball and his racquet with him on his way out, letting the door fall shut behind him.

Two hours and what felt like a never-ending repetition of drills later, he opened the same door again. He closed it none too gently and kicked off his shoes. He left the ball there but couldn't let go of his racquet. He was still thinking of him. He had gone through every drill he knew, had run suicide sprints and had taken shots at an empty goal until his arms screamed in protest at him. What made things worse was that he now was actually worrying about Andrew. How fucking stupid. He had thought about the phone he had left at his apartment, wondering if he would miss a text from the goalkeeper, while all his thoughts should have been on his practice. Of course there was nothing. Why would there be? Because he wanted it to be there.

He twirled the racquet in his right hand, made it spin, and grabbed it again. Go to bed, he told himself. Sleep it off. He took another quick shower to get rid of the sweat he had worked up. The moment his head touched his pillow he already knew that sleep wouldn't come easily tonight. By the time he gave up, it was almost midnight.

Very well aware of the fact that he might be about to make the biggest mistake in his life, Neil got up and dressed again and left his apartment.

Forty five minutes later he was standing across the street from Andrews place. He made sure he was standing on the illuminated sidewalk visible from Andrew’s living room when he texted the man.

‘Can I come up?’ He waited. Andrew was home and still awake. He could see the lights burning in those windows and it didn’t even take a minute for Andrew to show up behind one of them. Neil had one hand in his pocket, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist. He cocked his head and looked up at the goalkeeper.

Andrew kept watching him but didn’t write back. Neil shrugged exaggeratedly at him. It was Andrew’s call. He saw the goalkeeper nodding at his door over his shoulder before he turned around and vanished from Neil’s sight. Hurrying inside, Neil took the waiting elevator up and found Andrew leaning against his half open door, waiting. He still wore the same clothes, had the same messy hair, and Neil was sure he hadn’t left this place since they had seen each other earlier.

“Hey,” he offered in way of greeting and studied the man in front of him. You are a mess, aren’t you? Even in the dark hallway, Andrew’s pinpoint pupils spoke volumes. Those hazel eyes just stared at him in their unnerving way. Neil smiled a little and lifted the bag he was carrying. “I brought bribes.” Sadly they didn’t have Andrew’s favorite flavor, but cookie dough caramel ice cream still sounded a lot like a child’s sugar overload dream to him. Andrew didn’t move and remained silent. Neil sighed a little.

“Look, I came to apologize. What happened tonight has been my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I was out of line. I’m sorry.” He hated the thought that Andrew was alone at night getting high because of something he had done. “Just…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. That’s it I guess. I thought you might not call again, so I came here to tell you. I’m sorry, Andrew.” That was all he had to offer and maybe it was not enough. I wish I could read your mind right now. He lowered his head a little and put his hands back into his pockets, as he took a step back. At the same time, Andrew backed off too and opened the door wider. Neil hesitated, waited for either an invitation or a dismissal, but Andrew simply turned around and went back inside, leaving the door open. Neil followed him, saw the whiskey glass in the goalkeeper’s hand that had be hidden behind the door. Andrew emptied it and left it on the breakfast bar.

Neil took a look around, found the open wooden box on the coffee table, and saw the little plastic bags and pill bottles inside. Andrew saw him looking and smirked. He reached out a hand and Neil handed the bag over. Inspecting its contents, Andrew went into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons. He came back and climbed onto the sofa, grabbing one of the two pints and opened it. Neil watched him eat the ice cream, looked again at the bottle of painkillers next to the half empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table. Geez, Andrew… His dismay must have been visible on his face because the goalkeeper tapped the spoon against his lips while he studied Neil. He extended one of his legs and closed the wooden chest with his bare foot. The sound of it snapping shut was unpleasantly loud in the too quiet apartment. Neil slowly made his way over to the sofa.

“Tongue-tied?” he asked, because Andrew always kept too much to himself and that was fine when they were doing business, because that was Andrew’s choice after all. But this was a social call and so Neil could be a little selfish.

“Black-eyed?” Andrew answered and Neil touched the bruise over his left cheekbone.

“It’s fine,” he replied. Well, maybe it wasn’t fine. Bruises on his face couldn't be hidden. People noticed, meaning people paid him more attention. But it would fade. He shrugged, ran his fingers through his hair, and thought carefully about his next words. He sat down at the other end of the sofa, watching out for pieces of broken glass but they were gone.

“I won’t do anything with you tonight, even if you wanted to,” he said slowly. Andrew had returned his gaze back to his ice cream as soon as fine had come from Neil’s lips. “But I’m going to tell you something, because I think you might actually need to hear this.” He waited and said nothing, until Andrew finally looked at him again and he had his undivided attention.

“There is nothing you need to hide from me. You can tell me about anything you want to do or have done to you. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about it. It doesn't matter if it will turn out the way you thought it would. If I agree to do something with you and I do it wrong, that’s on me. You can tell me and I’ll try to make it right. But you never have to justify anything you think you did wrong in front of me. As long as we both respect our limits, I’ll never judge you.”

And when Andrew started to say something, he didn't let him. “Andrew. Just listen, okay? You pay me for this. I’m not a thing but you can use me to do anything we agree on. And if that means making mistakes, then that’s okay too. Because this,” he motioned between the two of them, “is just between us. It’s our business and I’m the last person you need to feel ashamed in front of.” He could already see that Andrew didn't want to hear any of this. But maybe he needed to, and Neil would give it time to let it actually sink in. Andrew could glare at him all he wanted. He just couldn't stand the man looking like this. Even hate was better than this.

“You say you hate me. Admit it, that’s what you are thinking right now.”

“There is nothing to admit. I do hate you.” Neil smiled at him and it made Andrew even angrier.

“That’s fine. Hate me all you want. I’ll still do this with you. Just tell me to back off or take a break, tell me to go and sit in the corner or wait in the next room or whatever. Tell me to wait outside for all I care. Just don’t feel like you need to run from me. Okay?”

“Are you done now?” He really didn't want to hear this right now. But Neil knew he would think about it.

“Yes, I’m done. You can throw me out now.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked after a moment.

“I guess, then we’ll have to find out if that thing works and if you are any good at it,” Neil said and nodded at Andrew’s gaming console below the flatscreen. Andrew followed his gaze and took another spoonful of ice cream. He sucked on it before he answered.

“Go ahead. I’ll pass. My reflexes are a little …inhibited at the moment.” Neil glared at the box. He usually didn't care what people did to themselves, but Andrew was an athlete he admired and it pissed him off to see him like this.

“You should be careful with those. The long term–“

“Geez, thanks Kevin. The last thing I ever wanted were two of you,” Andrew sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Shut up, I think I know enough about side effects.” Neil glared at him. “Go ahead,” Andrew said again and made a gesture at the general direction of the console.

“We can do something else, if you like. We don’t have to play,” Neil offered. It had just been a suggestion to lighten the mood. Andrew leaned back and put both feet on the table, pressing back against the cushions until he found a comfortable position.

“I thought you came here on your own time.”

“I did.” Neil watched him.

“Then, for god’s sake, just do whatever you want,” Andrew sighed. “Don’t look at me for directions.” Neil hummed in response and started the console to have a look at Andrew’s game collection. He had played before but never bought anything himself. After he found something he liked, Neil leaned back and watched the opening video before he let the intro teach him a few skills. Andrew seemed content with just watching for now. It came rather unexpected, when he broke the silence between them suddenly.

“Do you really get off on pain?” Neil blinked but didn’t face him. He kept playing, asking himself what had brought this on.

“Why do you ask?”

“You don’t seem to have any problem when you are doing it with me.” Andrew licked on his spoon again. Neil raised his eyebrows and smirked a little.

“Yeah, well, that’s because it’s you, Minyard.” Andrew glared at him.

“Gross. So what? You want me in my gear to fulfill your obsessive fantasies?”

“Damn, that would be so hot,” Neil joked. Andrew looked unimpressed. “I’m kidding,” the dark haired man chuckled. “Can I see your racquet though? The US court gets theirs custom made, right? That must be awesome!”

“Is that all?” Andrew asked in a bored tone.

They fell silent again, as Neil got swamped with zombies during a boss fight. His character nearly died.

“Zombie guard to your right,” Andrew told him.

“Got him,” Neil whooped. “Is what all,” he asked then.

“Is that all it takes to make you happy?” Neil thought about it.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“How would I know?” Andrew finished his ice cream.

Neil’s voice was lower when he asked, “Is it true? They say your apathy is part of a mental disorder.”

“They say,” Andrew repeated. He eyed Neil’s untouched pint on the table. “Are you going to eat that? It’s melting.” Neil shook his head.

“Go ahead,” he offered. “–You never smile, you never laugh…” Neil felt a little uneasy talking about this. Of course he wanted to know but it seemed awfully private and was probably nothing Andrew wanted to share.

“Maybe you are not funny.”

“Maybe,” Neil agreed. He watched Andrew from the corners of his eyes as he opened the second pint of ice cream, and wondered how someone could eat so much sugar at once. “You…” He fended off another wave of zombies, distracted for a second. “…were different when you played for the Foxes. Because of your meds?”

“Different,” Andrew echoed again and a shadow crossed his face.

“Like… ‘fake’. –Sorry, that was… uhm. No, sorry, that was out of line,” Neil winced, his thumb rapidly hitting the buttons.

“That’s something coming from a liar,” Andrew said unfazed.

“–I guess,” Neil admitted. He finished the level and turned the game off. Turning sideways on the sofa, he faced Andrew and watched him eat. “Hey. About tonight? It wasn’t all bad, was it?” ‘This whole thing is disgusting…’ Andrew didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him. “That couldn’t have been your first blowjob. You’re too good at it,” he pressed on, trying to remind Andrew of the good parts.

“Never said it was,” Andrew answered emotionlessly. His mind clearly was on what had followed afterwards. Neil sighed. He still felt like he would lose Andrew here.

“Geez, Andrew. Do you think I never have trouble getting it up? And it’s my job.”

Andrew looked pained when he turned to Neil and asked, “Did you just compare doing this with me to getting beaten up? I feel so much better now.” Neil blinked.

“No,” he replied horrified. “That’s not what I meant. - Jesus, Andrew, and seriously, would you just stop thinking that all my clients beat me? In fact, none of them do. You miss the point in all of this.”

“And that is?”

“It’s about control. Some people like the feeling of being in control of the situation; others want to be rid of it. Some say it’s about trust, but you can’t force that. If you could, I wouldn't be there, willing to take the risk. It’s my job to pretend to trust them in that situation. –Truth be told, I don’t. I trust none of them. We hide behind rules and agreements and the risk is still there and they pay me for it. The fact that you think that I get paid to get beaten is seriously insulting.”

“You are still saying I’m one of them.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Because I hit you–“

“No! Because you pay me Andrew,” Neil said and waited for Andrew to look at him. The goalkeeper was stubbornly eating his ice cream. Because touching Andrew was not an option right now, Neil reached over and took his spoon away. The Exy player shot him an annoyed look.

“It was my fault, okay?”

“I told you, it was not,” Andrew growled.

“Yes, it was. I could repeat it right now and it would still be my fault. I triggered you–“

“Don’t call it that,” Andrew interjected, disgusted. “We are not playing your games here. This is not a scene, we don’t have safe words,” he hissed.

“Yes, we do. ‘No’, ‘Stop’, ‘Don’t’ –all of these are your safe words. You don’t have to spell it out for me. You told me in the beginning that I would need your consent every single step of the way.”

“This,” Andrew pointed between the two of them, “is just plain sex, understand? You are my hooker and I pay you for this. You said I shouldn't twist this, but it’s you who turns it into something else,” Andrew accused him angrily. Neil looked at him and said nothing. He couldn’t say anything because he had come here tonight as something Andrew didn't want him to be. It was a dead end. It felt like a slap in the face, because he had made the mistake of trying to turn this into something else tonight, something more. He had been wrong and he should have – had – known better.

He lowered his gaze and handed the spoon back to Andrew. “Sorry.” He felt ashamed all of the sudden. He knew it would turn into anger soon enough. Neil got up. “You are right. I made a mistake.” Andrew just looked at him.

This had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Andrew looked up at the man in front of him, who had suddenly lost all of his confidence. His drugged brain told him that Neil was ashamed and he couldn't figure out why in time. Damn, he was out of it. There was a reason he only did this when he was alone. One thing was certain though; Neil was going to run. Fight was no longer an option, and everything about the guy screamed flight right now. Why? He blinked.

“Sorry,” Neil said once more, then turned and left. Andrew stared after him, trying to figure it out. The spoon lay forgotten in his hand. He was still angry, but that couldn't have been it. Neil was pretty used to his moods by now. It was quite impressive actually. The guy just didn't get intimidated. Then what? His usually perfect memory wouldn't let him replay the scene in detail like he wanted. The drugs made everything foggy.

Andrew felt something snap in him and flung the spoon across the room. It clattered against the wall next to the door and then fell to the floor.

“Fuck,” he said. Andrew stood up and went to the window. He looked down, and as usual, the height as he looked straight down at the street below gave him that stomach-twisting feeling. He ignored it and kept looking. A moment later, Neil crossed the street, head lowered, hands in his pockets, feet speeding up to a jog –running away. From him, Andrew realized.

translation notes: *’See you tomorrow night?’  ‘Can’t make it tomorrow. Sorry.’ thanks for reading!

<<Chapter 8 Chapter 10>>

#lntycm #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

c-valentino · 7 years

Note

okay hard facts! Andrew wants to play the truth game here.... word count on Ch15?? ETA? I have to balance my mental stability you see? help me keep it... tell me ! pls??

Damn Andrew, not now! I’m busy! you just passed out on your sofa and… WHY are you even here??7536can’t say… now shoo… back onto the sofa

#lntycm

1 note · View note

c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug

Summary:

Neil & Andrew, two men with too many issues, a prostitute and a national Exy player, two strangers in an AU where Neil never stopped running and never got the chance to join the team.

Fandom: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Explicit

Notes: AU Timeline — the story is taking place after the books but Neil never joined the team.

Chapter 1

The night was chilly and smelled of rain when Neil skipped the line in front of Eden’s Twilight and clapped one of the bouncers on the shoulder in way of greeting.

„Yo,“ the man, double his weight and towering one head above him, said and moved aside to let him in. Neil smiled and greeted some familiar faces on his way in. Cash folded inside his pocket of his black skinny jeans was an assuring reminder of the last hour he had spent at a stranger’s house, doing strange, some might say distasteful things. He pushed the memories into a corner of his mind and guarded them with two imagined clones of the bouncers he had just passed. Those memories had to stay outside tonight.

Neil moved over to the bar and was eyed immediately by strangers and acquaintances alike. A bartender passed him, nodded in an upward motion and Neil gave another smile in response. They knew him here. They knew he was a good customer who tipped well and didn’t talk much. They also knew he came to this bar to order from is favorite bartender. Roland was busy serving customers at the other end of the bar but his colleague was kind enough to take over for him and to let him know that Neil had showed up.

„Well, hello,“ Roland greeted and wiped his hands on a dishtowel.

„Hey,“ Neil replied.

„Long day?“ The barkeeper put his hands on the workspace behind the bar and leaned forward a bit in order to hear the soft-spoken words of his customer nearly drowning in the music. Neil’s eyes had a distant look to them for a moment, as memories tried to bypass his mental bouncers.

„Long day,“ he agreed. It was the needed exchange for them to do business. Roland nodded understandingly.

„The usual then.“ He turned and got busy with Neil’s drink. Neil thanked him and paid double for the added drugs. He took a sip and turned halfway around to look at the crowd on the dance floor.

„Slow night,“ he observed and Roland, now busy stacking some of the washed glasses, nodded.

„Stay a while,“ he told Neil and the younger man glanced back at him, head slightly cocked to one side. Neil usually didn’t stay long, they both knew that and Roland didn’t keep customers around for conversation between serving drinks. The barkeeper was though, the only one around who knew what Neil was doing for a living.

„I might have something,“ Roland said vaguely and then left to serve other customers. A small smile tugged at the corners of Neil’s lips as he glanced down at his drink and gave a little snort. Wasn’t it Roland who always told him to be careful not to do business in Eden’s Twilight? The management had strickt rules when it came to hookers, even those like him. And anyway, Neil came here to relax and forget about his job for a while. Stay a while… well, maybe he would.

Andrew Minyard didn’t need to stand in line at any club. The fame of being an Exy player of a famous team gave him that excuse — not that he had ever needed one. Two bouncers parted the waiting crowd in front of Eden’s Twilight to let him through. He was greeted but didn’t care. He only acknowledged the faces he knew. People started talking behind is back, recognizing him. He didn’t give a shit. There was so much talk lately, even a normal person would have grown tired of hearing it by now. Andrew hadn’t cared from the start. Across the street, two middle aged men with cameras called his name, trying to get him to turn around for some pictures since they hadn't seen him approach in time. He ignored them.

The club was surprisingly empty tonight. Maybe some big event he had forgotten. It didn’t matter. Roland was behind the bar, looking at him and catching his eye immediately. He nodded and made his way over.

„Glad you came,“ Roland said.

„I said I would,“ Andrew shrugged.

„How is the media treating you?“ To that, Andrew only raised an eyebrow, telling Roland that he should know better than to ask stupid questions. „Right,“ Roland agreed.

Last week, the Exy season had had its first scandal when team captain Kevin Day had been injured during the second game of the season. Though fans and critics alike agreed that it had been a deliberate foul, the attending referees had not deemed it to be an act of misconduct. Kevin had been unable to finish the game and although Andrew had prevented the other team from scoring points, the Foxes offense had been hopelessly outmatched without Kevin. With Andrew being subbed out during the last quarter, the foxes had lost. Rumors disagreed on what had happened after the game. The hard facts were that the player who had injured Kevin had ended up at the hospital, unable to continue the season, maybe missing even the next one and Andrew being suspended for the time being.

„About the other thing we talked about…“ Roland handed Andrew his drink, putting it on the house but accepted the tip. The blond goalkeeper looked up at him questioningly, inviting Roland to go on. „He’s here. Far wall, left of the DJ.“ Andrew turned around lazily, took a sip and scanned the crowd. He liked what he saw; dark hair, slender build, about 5’3, dark clothes that hinted at a nice physique. His smile was fake but that was only befitting his surroundings. Trouble was, Andrew hated that he liked what he saw. He had wanted to be disappointed.

He emptied his glass in two large gulps and put it down on the bar. „Thanks,“ he said and handed Roland a folded bill for his trouble, which the barkeeper accepted. He then turned around and left with one last glance at the stranger across the dance floor. He hated him already.

Chapter 2>>

#all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #fanfic #cval madness #fanfiction #lntycm #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #andreil fic #tfc au #kevin day

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c-valentino · 7 years

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I'm writing a story but I think I'll never finish it :'(( do you have some advice how to stay on track while writing a multi chapter story? did you write lntycm chronologically? how do you come up with your stories? thx!

hmm… I think the biggest mistake even I still make is putting the story aside for too long. It’s okay to take a break once in a while, life gets busy after all, but it’s important to keep writing, even if it’s just a few lines each day.

nope, lntycm is/was all over the place. the plot changed multiple times while I was writing it. I’m a messy writer, I write in scenes, not chapters. my mind is not capable of writing a whole story chronologically. I couldn’t even write my school assignments like that. my teacher always preached about the importance of the workflow… write your introduction first(!) then follow your concept she used to say… I always thought it’s way easier to write it last.

that depends… I get inspired by many things. songs, books, pictures, quotes… real events even. you say something that interests me and I could write you a scene about it…. sometimes I do spam posts in my friends tumblr chats with little scenes even though they never asked for them…. (uhmm… sry friends! xD you know if you’re one of them!) if a basic idea gets stuck in my head, I’ll keep it there for a while and let it evolve - if it develops an “Eigenleben” (life of its own) I’ll write it down in little scenes and piece it together later on.

hope that helps a little? keep writing, you will get there!

#lntycm #ask c.val

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c-valentino · 7 years

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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

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c-valentino · 7 years

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Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug VIII

“Yes?” Neil ran his fingers down Andrew’s chest before he took his hands back. “Or no?”

Damn this guy… This had gone so well until now. Even though Andrew could still feel the aftermath of last night’s high, the dull feeling that wouldn't leave him for a while, this meeting had gone down surprisingly smoothly. He could say no. Maybe he should. End it on good terms for once and continue later this week. He could. But he also wanted more; wanted to push his limits with the man lying below him and see how far this would go. Dammit.

He leaned in and kissed Neil again, delaying his answer. Neil’s mouth was hot and inviting, his skin under the fabric of his shirt warm; a plane of firm, lean muscles covered in ruined skin that spoke of violence and survival. Who was this guy? Why was he so interested in him? Why did he think of him when Neil wasn't around, even when sex was not on his mind? He knew next to nothing about this man. Andrew knew he was in trouble. He knew he liked this guy. It made him angry, but that changed nothing. The fact that his drugged brain had convinced him that he needed to talk to Neil last night was a warning sign with hazard lights flashing on top.

His body didn’t seem to care though. He was still hard from giving Neil a blowjob, from making him lose control and moan his name. He could get up now and finish this in his bathroom. He was sure, it wouldn't even take him five minutes with those memories still fresh on his mind, but doing it here… He frowned again and bit down on Neil’s lower lip, a little too harshly. He could feel those gentle fingers grabbing his hair in response, pulling and letting go again, when he ran his tongue over the abused lip almost apologetically, but in truth to make sure he hadn't broken the skin and drawn blood.

Andrew knew what could happen if he stayed and things went wrong. He could black out for a second. It would be enough. He knew what kind of damage he could cause in a short amount of time in this close proximity. One wrong move from Neil, one careless touch, one flashback and he could seriously hurt the guy. He even wore his single remaining knife out of habit right now. He had returned the others to Renee on the day their ways had parted again; but she had insisted that he kept at least one of them. He had.

Somewhere between kissing, stalling for time, and trying to make up his mind, Andrew felt those hands leaving him, and he noticed Neil getting rid of the used condom. Right, he had forgotten about that. Well, problem solved. Neil was efficient enough to avoid any kind of awkwardness. Those strong arms encircled his neck again, one hand tangling in his hair, the other holding onto his shoulder, while Neil leaned up and kissed his neck again. It made the short hairs on Andrew’s neck raise and his skin prickle. He liked it, but it could get a little overwhelming at times. Right now, it made his cock twitch. Dammit, if Neil ever found all of his sensitive spots he would be a shuddering mess in this man’s arms. The thought was provocative, somehow enticing, but also ridiculous. The chances of him being able to experience that were next to nothing.

Neil’s fingers followed his trapezius down and dug into the taught muscle next to his spine. It caused the sweet kind of pain of having a sore, post workout muscle massaged. Andrew flexed his shoulders and leaned into the touch, seeking more. He could feel Neil’s lips curl upward into a smile on his neck but he didn't protest as the man’s other hand joined his left on the other side of his spine and copied the motion. It felt too good. How many times had he seen his teammates getting massaged after workouts or matches, knowing he would never allow a stranger to touch him like that? It was those simple things that reminded him of how much he was missing in his life, of how different he really way.

He put a hand on the back of Neil’s neck and pulled him back a little. Their eyes met and Andrew didn't look away, because he needed to make sure that he would get his point across right now.

“Listen,” he said and Neil’s fingers stopped moving and his hands came to rest on Andrew’s back, “if I–” What? If he freaked out? If he attacked the man in front of him for no apparent reason? He had tried this only once before and it had ended badly in a painful, bloody way that had kept him from trying again.

“If you try to hurt me,” Neil guessed, reading his goddamned mind, sounding so calm and serious about it. I hate you. Andrew frowned down on him, anger rising. But Neil had his answer and nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he said. No, you won’t.

There was no backing off now. He thought about getting off the sofa, about changing their position, but he didn't want Neil on top of him and even standing next to each other, with Neil being taller than him, made Andrew worry that it would make things worse. Right now he had Neil below him and maybe that wasn't the most favorable position for the young man to defend himself, but Andrew would need one arm to keep his balance and the other to touch himself.

He leaned down and kissed Neil once more and the taller man didn't hesitate to kiss back.

“Can I touch you?” Could he? Andrew wasn't sure. Would it help or do the opposite? He didn't know.

“Just my hair,” he said and Neil nodded. Andrew could feel those blue eyes looking at him, searching his face for changes and warning signs. Andrew wasn't even sure if he would have those. People always told him that he was hard to read. He didn't like to be watched while he was doing anything sexual; he didn't feel confident about, but he also needed Neil to watch him closely this time. It was uncomfortable and he kept his eyes above Neil’s head, staring at the sofa for now. He wasn't sure this would work. He was getting too nervous about the whole thing.

“Hey,” Neil said quietly and Andrew looked down at him. “It’s okay. No rush. Just come back here for a sec.” He reached up and gently pulled Andrew down into another kiss, fingers running over the goalkeeper’s scalp. Andrew followed his request willingly, relaxing a bit into the familiar feeling of Neil’s lips moving against his own. His hand moved without him thinking about it. It found Neil’s chest and rubbed one of his scars through the shirt before his fingers found an already hard nipple and started teasing it. Neil hummed against his lips, his tongue finding Andrew’s. The goalkeeper pinched him and Neil gasped, arching his back a little, body as responsive as usual. Do you really like pain, Andrew wondered not for the first time. He didn't think so. How much of all of this was acting?

And then Neil was reaching down, grabbing a fold of Andrew’s pant leg and pulled a little to get his attention, without breaking the kiss. Andrew let him and followed the pull, until their legs were re-arranged with one of Neil’s between his and the taller man pulling again, down this time, until he felt Andrew sliding down against his raised thigh. He let go of Andrew’s sweatpants then, returning to just touching his hair, leaving it up to Andrew to move against him if he wanted to. Andrew closed his strong thighs around Neil’s leg and moaned a little, grinding his hips against Neil, while keeping their upper bodies apart. He was hard again, and it didn't take him long this time to reach into his pants and close his hand around his own erection. He still used Neil’s leg for pressure and friction and kissed the man one last time before he drew back, so Neil would remember and watch out for himself.

He could feel unwanted memories lurking somewhere in the back of his mind. They were tightly attached to the worry that he could hurt the man in front of him. He couldn't get rid of them without disregarding his caution, and he couldn't afford that most of all. Andrew tried to concentrate on Neil, tried to remember making him come in all those little details his mind usually provided him with. He inhaled deeply, smelling the mixture of the lingering scent of body wash and post sex sweat on Neil and looked down at the man.

Neil was watching him closely, eyes on Andrew’s face, no traces of worry in his expression but no dismissive smile either. Andrew avoided his gaze again quickly, grimacing a little, because he couldn't hold it and it felt like a failure he couldn't hide. He looked down at his own hand, half hidden inside his sweat pants, moving up and down with harsh movements. He was never gentle with himself. He had noticed it again, when he had been touching Neil, watching the young man’s responses. He instinctively touched him more gently than himself.

His gaze got caught on something else. He couldn't figure out what right away. It took him a moment to link that rising, cold feeling with the image he saw, but when it clicked in place, it was like a punch to the gut. It was the image of a naked lower body with another man on top of it, a shirt partly pushed upward to reveal bruises underneath and a hand grabbing an erection. It was a picture from another time, parts of a memory, distorted, overlapping a child’s body with that of a young man and Andrew couldn't look away, even as his eyes widened in horror and his throat tightened against the threatening nausea.

Not real, he told himself, it’s not the fucking same. He was going to be sick. He fought it down –everything. He wanted all of it gone. This whole situation felt so disgusting, he couldn't stand it.

Neil watched Andrew closely and caught the moment the man above him lost his touch with reality for a second. He prepared himself for violence, to fight off any demons Andrew was battling at the moment, but none was forthcoming. Instead, he saw Andrew fall apart on top of him, saw him shudder and heard a pathetic sound escaping his mouth that reminded him of a strangled sob. He took his hand from Andrew’s hair and pushed himself halfway up with one arm, frantically searching for words. Andrew’s hand was still between his legs but his erection was completely gone. He couldn't see the goalkeeper’s face. The man was tense and didn't move. He looked like he was ashamed. That’s what you get for pushing him, Neil told himself.

He wanted to tell Andrew that he had no reason to feel ashamed, but he knew the man wouldn't listen. No man had ever listened to that argument with his limp dick in his hand. Dammit. Neil sat up all the way and Andrew sat back on his heels, his face a terrible blank mask that didn't display any of the emotions he must have been feeling right now. Not your fault, Neil wanted to tell him. I made you try. He pulled his leg free from beneath Andrew and cocked his head a little, willing the goalkeeper to look at him but Andrew didn’t.

“Get dressed,” were the first words out of Andrew’s mouth, quiet and flat, concealing every emotion underneath. Neil did as he had been told, then sat down again, keeping some distance between them. He didn't want to leave Andrew like this. Not while the man wouldn't even look at him.

“Andrew,” he began, uncertainly. Don’t beat yourself up. The goalkeeper stood up, shoulders and back tense. He stalked over into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, cupboard door slamming shut with a resounding bang, and filled it with water at the sink. Neil got up slowly and crossed the room halfway, watching him. The goalkeeper drank half of the water, one hand braced against the kitchen counter.

“Leave,” he told Neil without turning around. Neil grimaced but didn't move. Andrew waited a moment, then turned and glared at him. “I said leave,” he growled.

“Andrew, let’s just–“ The half-empty glass flying across the room and smashing into the far wall, showering the sofa with water and broken pieces made him shut up.

“Get the fuck out,” Andrew hissed. Neil could tell he wanted to be intimidating as he came back into the living room, facing Neil, trying to get him to back off. It almost worked and he took halt a step back.

“Hey…” This was getting out of hand. Andrew was overreacting.

“Out,” he repeated. “We are done. Take your money and go. What the fuck are we even doing?” He was furious, and Neil could see the aversion in his face.

“Calm down. Why are you trying to twist this into something ugly?” He needed to calm him down. He understood that Andrew didn't want to be seen like this, no one would, but he needed to understand that it didn't matter.

“Twist it? This whole thing is disgusting,” Andrew snarled and Neil felt hurt and resignation welling up inside against his better judgment. A client’s words shouldn't hurt him like that.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” The goalkeeper didn't want to listen. He growled and turned around, about to run away once again. This needed to stop. Neil couldn't let him hide right now.

“Andrew, wait!” He reached out to grab Andrew’s shirt. He couldn't just let him leave like this. But before he even made contact a blinding pain exploded inside his head, making him see stars. Andrew’s elbow had hit him in the face and had him stumbling backwards, crashing into the wall. He must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing Neil noticed was that he was sitting on the floor, making out Andrew’s blurry shape in front of him.

“Hey. Can you hear me?” Yeah, he heard him and he was about to fucking shout at him for hitting him in the face, because the pain made his temper flare up through the dizziness. And then he remembered what had actually happened and all he did was curse at himself. He touched his aching face, covering it with his hand. Blood was dripping from his nose, down his chin onto his shirt. Andrew had shut up and just looked at him in a mix of anger and concern.

“I’m fine,” Neil managed to get out and winced. He tilted his head back. The taste of blood in his mouth was thick and nauseating and he wanted to spit. Instead he swallowed hard. Andrew didn't seem convinced at all. He reached out to pull Neil’s hand away. He couldn't see how bad it actually was with his hand covering half of his face and blood running through his fingers.

“Let me see. Did you bite your tongue?” He would think so with the slur in his words. Out of reflex, Neil jerked his head back when he saw Andrew’s slightly blurry hand reaching for his face. The goalkeeper cursed, pulled his hand back and let it hover in the air between them awkwardly, unsure what to do in the situation. “Did I break your nose? Talk to me, dammit!”

“I said, I’m fine.” He realized it wasn't the most convincing argument he had ever made with all the blood running down his face. Carefully, he pinched his nose but it wasn't broken. Thank god for small favors. “You just caught me off guard.” He was still angry with himself for being such an idiot.

Andrew’s face came back into focus glaring at him, more anger than concern this time. “Move your hand,” he ordered, still crouching in front of Neil.

“No, Andrew, it’s dripping everywhere.” Besides, it hurt like a bitch and the pain had made his eyes water. “Just give me a minute.” With an annoyed growl, Andrew stood back up, went into the kitchen and grabbed a clean dishtowel. He threw it at Neil. The dark haired man took it and wiped at the blood on his face. “Calm down. It’s just a bloody nose.”

“I could have–“

“You didn’t,” Neil cut him short. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” Andrew screamed at him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Neil glared back at him. He used the wall for support and got back onto his feet. Wiping at the blood under his nose one more time, he took the towel away and let Andrew see his face. “Just shut up!” The goalkeeper gritted his teeth. “Do I really have to tell you that I’ve had worse? Huh? Do you need to hear that?” He took a few steps forward to close the gap between them but Andrew wouldn't have it.

“Get the fuck out.” His voice was cold as ice.

“You know what? Fine!” Neil threw the bloody towel at his feet and turned around. He couldn't do this right now. He needed to get a grip. He went down the hall and slammed the apartment door shut behind himself.

<<Chapter 7 Chapter 9>>

#lntycm #andreil #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug VI

Neil closed the door to Andrew’s apartment behind himself and ran a hand through his messed up hair. He licked his lips and went down the hall, took the elevator down, hands in his pockets, still thinking of Andrew. They had made out once again in the man’s living room until Neil had come from Andrew’s hand, and once again, Andrew had left him alone afterwards, declaring Neil’s job done. The black haired man had been paid and sent on his way and Neil had kept his mouth shut. He understood now, that Andrew handled things in his own way, taking baby steps. It was not Neil’s place to say anything about it.

‘I hate you.’ Well, fuck. That was hard to decipher. It hadn't been a joke. And the look in Andrew’s eyes… Still, the man didn't really hate him –not in a I-want-to-rip-your-throat-out kind of way. Maybe it was because of what they were doing? Andrew clearly had issues –bad experiences most likely –and if the whole thing kept reminding him of those, Neil couldn't really blame him. Paying someone to get through this stuff and then tossing them aside, never looking back… well, yeah, why not. Whatever works, he thought. We aim to please. He sighed. A red Ferrari passed him on his way home and Allison Reynolds grinned when their eyes met. He didn't smile, didn't wave, he just kept walking.

Why did it bother him? He frowned. Because it was Andrew Minyard? So what? Did he want to ask the man for his autograph before they were done? Ridiculous. Did he want Andrew to keep calling him? How would that work? Once the man was done with him, once Andrew would be able to… to what? To have sex with him? To have sex with someone? Was he even sure the man couldn't have sex with another person because of his issues? Andrew had never said as much. But anyway, once Andrew was done with him, they would part ways. They had to. Neil would move on –hell, maybe he would have to run even before Andrew would be done with him. He couldn't predict that after all. The thought instantly soured his mood. He lowered his head, walked a little faster. Someone went past him a little too closely, bumped into his shoulder and Neil looked back when the guy cursed at him. “Fuck off,” he snarled back. Great. His hot temper was back, something he had never been able to get rid of. “Get a grip,” he muttered under his breath.

Allison passed ‘Neil or whatever your name really is’ on her way back to the agency. Andrew’s new pet, she dubbed him and grinned. What else could she call him? Andrew didn't have friends. He had projects. Like Kevin, his never ending one –or like herself, maybe? That thought had a strange taste to it and she didn't quite like it. Still, there was a little bit of truth in it.

She had known Andrew Minyard for years now. They had both played for the Palmetto Foxes, alongside Kevin. The team had been a bunch of mismatches, fighting each other at least as much as any other team on the court. Things had been problematic at best. It had taken their coach, nurse and psychiatrist to keep them together and even that had not lasted after they had lost a striker during the season. It had been the Foxes’ second striker in a row. It had also been her boyfriend, Seth Gordon.

Seth had always been a trouble maker to begin with. He had been ill-tempered, easily provoked and a raging homophobe. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had been a drug addict and a depressed young man, and he just couldn't get along with anyone it had seemed. He also had a sweet and caring side, but he had been too good at hiding it. She had found out about it and it hadn't taken them long to get together. It hadn't lasted. They had been on and off all the time but they had loved each other. Apparently, they also had loved to fight, because they had been exceptionally good at it. They had been fighting the night he had died. She knew, because he had been on the phone with her, arguing, when it had happened. She had been screaming at him because he had been high and driving, while she had been in her room, keeping the other girls next door awake. She knew what had happened, it was no secret and the police report kept telling her the same thing. He had been distracted and had lost control of his car. The crash had nearly killed another man along with Seth. She could sometimes still hear her boyfriend’s voice screaming back at her and then, suddenly, that terrible noise of the two cars crashing into each other, when she woke up at night.

The other girls of the team had found her that night and stayed with her on the way to the hospital. Seth had already been dead when they had arrived. That night was maybe her biggest regret of all. She couldn't get over it.

Allison had struggled with bulimia before in her life, before joining the Foxes. After Seth’s death, she had relapsed. She had kept it a secret from the team. She wouldn't have been allowed to play anymore, if they had found out about it. The season had been over for them but without Exy, there would have been nothing left for her back then. Renee had found out but promised her to keep it a secret from Coach, Abby and Betsy. Renee and Dan had tried to help her to get through it, but she had been too far gone to listen. Her weight had kept dropping and she had kept blaming herself.

It was only when Renee had gone to Andrew, asking him for help, that Allison had her first real encounter with the leader of the team’s monsters. She remembered a particular scene, with her sitting on the floor in her dirty clothes and ruined makeup, tears running down her face, looking up at Andrew and telling him ‘You are really fucked up beneath all those drugs, you psycho.’ And he had replied ‘Takes one to know one. You look pretty messed up yourself when the makeup comes off.’

He hadn't fixed her. She had done that herself, but he had shoved her into the right direction. That, and he had ranted her out to Betsy when she had been about to relapse again. Allison had never understood why Renee had stood up for Andrew, while the whole team had been split before Seth’s death. Afterwards, she had understood her a little better. Allison had done nothing to get the team united but she had kept her mouth shut when things got ugly and Matt and Kevin were at each other’s throats, until five foot even Andrew Minyard made the huge backliner back off. She hadn't said anything when Matt had complained to Dan about the monsters tearing the team apart. She remembered thinking ‘Team? What team?’ but she had said nothing.

Her relationship with Andrew today was a strange one. They were not friends, they had never been. It was more like a business relationship really. She was a little afraid of him but then, most people were. He tolerated her with a stoic attitude that some people took for indifference. It was apathy but Allison knew that he kept an eye on her, even years after Renee had asked him to help her. She knew, because sometimes she got calls from Betsy and the timing was always too perfect to be a coincidence. The Foxes’ psychiatrist had parted ways with all of them back in Palmetto but she was still just a phone call away if you needed her. Allison thought this woman was a real life saver.

Not many people knew, but Allison and Andrew lived in the same building. She had gotten him the deal when he had moved here to join the national team. He had not thanked her but he hadn’t needed to. It was just how they worked after everything they had been through.

Andrew took off a pair of sunglasses as he entered the building. People turned in his direction, some intimidated, others not. His bad reputation usually won against his achievements as an athlete and people didn't approach him as much as his other teammates. Still, they pulled their phones out and took pictures of him, like tourists on a safari, facing a lion. He ignored them.

Kids didn't follow this pattern. They were the exception. They saw him as the awesome goalkeeper, the last line of defense on the court, the hero who could save the game at the last minute. If he was very unlucky, some bald, skinny, ‘tragic’ cancer kid would walk down the corridor –or sit in a wheelchair– and recognize him. They would look up at him and smile, so goddamn happy to see him. Andrew found that mildly disturbing. The lack of caution in those kids, the honesty, the hope… They still had their dreams, they were still fighting, even after life had dealt them a bad hand of cards. Had he been like that once?

Hospitals were places where tragedy was a frequently used word. Way more often than miracle. He didn't think either ever happened. Andrew didn't believe in miracles and people broke too easily, were too fragile, to call anything in here a tragedy. It wasn’t a tragedy that US national Exy team captain Kevin Day was in here, waiting for him. Yet he had come anyway. Summoned by the man, asking him to sit in during today’s consultation. Andrew wasn't looking forward to it. He had a meeting with his lawyer in two hours. Yet he had let Kevin pull on the leash they had both tied around their necks years ago. It was always push or pull with Kevin, they usually couldn't keep the same pace.

Andrew found the room he had been looking for and entered without knocking. Kevin looked up from his phone, relief clearly visible on his face. Andrew hated that look, like he was some kind of solution. He couldn't fix Kevin’s problem. Not this time. They exchanged a short greeting, before Andrew claimed the chair next to Kevin and leaned back. Hopefully this would be over soon. They sat in silence until he got annoyed by Kevin’s fidgeting.

“Why did you call me?” Andrew disliked hospitals. No, maybe he hated them. Still, here he was, sitting in an office with Kevin, waiting for his brand new, freshly imported team of physicians.

“You speak German.” Kevin was nervous. He kept tapping his foot and Andrew was sure he didn't even notice it.

“They are Austrian,” Andrew replied.

“Austrians speak German,” Kevin said and Andrew could actually see how he had to think about that, checking his facts. Yes, Kevin, full points.

“They have a nasty accent.” Of course he would be able to understand them. It wasn't even true. Not all Austrians had a terrible accent. But why bother? He was sure they would be perfectly capable of speaking English to explain everything to Kevin.

“I don’t know,” Kevin sighed. “Wouldn’t it be easier if they could explain to you what they are going to do? I feel like they would leave out details.”

“Trust me, the only one leaving out details will be me, because I’m too bored to play interpreter for you.” Kevin had no time to complain, as two men entered the room. Young, Andrew thought when he first saw them. Kevin thought so too, it was written all over his face.

“You must be Kevin Day. Nice to meet you,” the first man, tall, blonde, maybe in his early thirties, looked at Kevin. “Florian Hofbauer.” They shook hands. The other one, tall, brown hair and even younger looking took his place.

“Sascha Schöller, nice to meet you.” These two wonder boys, made in Austria, promised to increase Kevin’s chances of a full recovery to up to forty five percent. They both specialized in physiotherapy and had been consulted in cases of injured olympic athletes before. Everything for the US national team’s star striker.

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin managed. They certainly handled things a little differently overseas. This felt more like a meet and greet with fans, all smiles and hand shakes, no titles.

“Oh! You are his teammate, right? The goalkeeper,” Florian said and turned to Andrew, offering his hand. Reluctantly, Andrew shook it. Without letting go, Florian turned to his colleague. Telling him about what he knew about Andrew.

“What’s he saying,” Kevin hissed under his breath right next to Andrew.

“He says he thinks I’m the shortest player in the US and maybe–“ Andrew replied, not lowering his voice. The man in front of him noticed and beamed at him.

“Oh wow, you speak German! That’s cool. Oh, don’t take it personally, I meant it as a compliment. You see, Austria doesn't have a national Exy team yet and we…”

“I think you can handle them,” Andrew told Kevin and left the three to their devices, closing the door without looking back.

This place, Neil thought, it doesn't change. The furniture was still the same; big, black desk at the center of the room, two armchairs in front, one leather desk chair behind, that burgundy carpet and the distant noise of the music; it was all still the same. Not too long ago, he had entered this exact same office, following the man who was even now sitting at his desk across the room, while he leaned against the wall. Not too long ago, he had been nervous and on edge but strangely cold inside, about to face his first trick.

He had not been afraid. His brain had already processed what had been about to happen. He had not been a naïve teenager. He had never had sex before but Neil never had illusions about some romantic first time with someone special to begin with. He had always thought his first time would eventually happen, probably with him still on the run, with some girl or guy, probably a complete stranger he would have met only hours before. He had imagined it as a physical release, a one-night stand, nothing special. He sure as hell had not imagined it to be perfect, with him lacking all the needed experience.

He had not been particularly disappointed about how it had actually turned out. A guy would fuck him in some gay club and pay him to do so. So what? Maybe he wouldn't enjoy it, he probably wouldn't even like it, but in all honesty, how bad could it be? He wouldn't agree to any kinky stuff.

It had been the money. Neil had no illusions about that. It hadn't made him feel dirty. He came from a family of criminals, murderers, torturers. Prostitution was nothing far fetched or removed from his world, and doing it once wouldn't make him a whore. He would just take the money and… –He could see it all again happening in his memory with this perfect background in front of his eyes.

The door behind him closed. The man turned and looked at him, chuckled. “Relax, no need to be so nervous.” He went over to the desk and got rid of his suit jacket. Neil kept his eyes on him. The door wasn't locked. He could leave.

“We will do this, you’ll pay me and I’ll leave,” he said. He needed to hear it. The man smiled. He wasn't bad looking and the air of confidence about him made him even more attractive. Still, he was too old for Neil. Old enough to be his father and that alone made him dangerous in his book. It was a weakness he couldn't get rid off.

“I’ll pay you, then we do this and then you can leave,” the German corrected him. Alright, even better.

“I won’t take my clothes off. You can fuck me against the wall or over the desk.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“No kinky shit.” The man took out his wallet and counted the money.

“In any other situation, I would have asked you to define ‘kinky shit’ for me,” he said without looking up, just arching an eyebrow, “but I think I got your meaning.” He put the money on the table and slid it over in Neil’s direction.

“I heard you will lose a client this month.” Neil was jerked from his memory, turned around and looked at the man, who sat at his desk, still busy with paperwork. Paperwork concerning him, Neil realized. He blinked.

“Yes. Seems like my client has overcome his fixation and has moved on. We’ll do one last scene this week.” Seemed like Alex was no longer working at his client’s office. Maybe he had been fired, maybe not. Neil didn't particularly care about the details.

“Don’t worry about it. From what I’ve heard, it has nothing to do with you. He has been very pleased with your performance.” Neil cocked his head. He didn't care but it wouldn't do to say that out loud. Not here in this office.

The German stacked some sheets of paper and put them aside, before looking at Neil with undivided attention. “That will be the last client of those I introduced to you, right?” Neil nodded. “Want me to find you a replacement?”

“No. Not at this point. I appreciate the offer though.”

“How long has it been,” the man changed the subject, “since we started this?” Neil thought about it for a moment.

“Almost two and a half years.” Had it really been this long already? He hadn't even thought about it before. Two and a half years without running…

“That’s right. Shame that I couldn't see you more often.” The man tapped the polished surface of his desk and Neil made his way over to him, sitting down on the edge. “Will you come home with me tonight?”

“Do you want me to?” He didn't want to. He wanted to go home and think of Andrew. Somehow, the goalkeeper always managed to show up in his thoughts these nights. Not the client. Andrew Minyard the Exy player, who talked about games and didn't pay him when they met. He was a creature from Neil’s fantasy. The real man was nothing like him. His Andrew didn't use him, would never throw him away.

“I always want you to. If it would be up to me, I would keep you there and never let you leave. You know that.” Neil felt the hairs on his neck rise. “Oh dear, don’t look so afraid. You know I would never do anything against your will. Besides, I have to leave again in two days. Something came up.” The man looked at him amused. Neil lowered his gaze. He hadn't meant to show his fear. “So, tonight?”

“Yes.” It was unwise to say no.

“Anything particular you want me to do to you?” The man leaned back and looked up at Neil sitting in front of him on the desk.

“Not tonight.” He never wanted to but what he wanted and what he needed was not always the same thing.

“Alright. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

“Danke.”* That word made him feel cold inside. Always…

Translation notes:

*"Thank you."

<<Chapter 5 Chapter 7>>

#fanfiction #lntycm #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #cval madness

8 notes · View notes

c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug VII

It was late. Neil had already gone to bed, when his phone vibrated next to his bed. When had he stopped turning it off during the night? Two weeks ago? Three? The day Andrew had suddenly texted him? Possibly, he admitted and reached down to grab the stupid thing. One text from Andrew. Only one word:

‘tomorrow’

Why wasn’t he asleep? Neil rubbed his eyes and squinted at the screen. He had been stupid enough to leave his phone on. It would be pointless not to respond now.

‘okay. usual time/place?’

He yawned and the phone buzzed again.

‘yes.’

Well, okay then. Just as he had put it back down and turned around to find a more comfortable position, Andrew texted again. Curious, Neil reached for it again, lying on his stomach, fingers blindly searching for a moment.

‘I want this to become a weekly thing. y/n’

“Hmm?” Why the sudden change of mind? They hadn’t even seen each other last week. Andrew had admitted that he had actually needed to convince himself to text him last time. This was odd.

‘yes’

He wasn’t against it. They had proven that they could work together just fine the last time. Actually, he had expected Andrew to contact him sooner to be honest. He had been looking forward to it.

‘twice’

Something was off. He hesitated before he typed his reply.

‘I’m taking a turn: are you sober right now?’

It didn’t even take a minute for Andrew to reply but it felt so much longer.

‘no.’ Interesting. ‘so?’ He had known that Andrew was still using or maybe he was just drunk right now, Neil didn’t know. It was, however, the first time for them to talk like this. He wondered what Andrew was like when he took something. Would he smile and laugh? He should have asked what the man was taking. It was none of his business but he wanted to know. He also wanted to use this chance to talk to Andrew for a little longer.

‘one condition: stop overpaying me’

This might be stupid but it had actually started to bother him. He knew it was because he liked the man but he told himself that it was unprofessional to overcharge a client like that.

‘who’s gonna pay your rent if I pay you for kissing and hand jobs twice a week’

Did that mean they would keep it that way? Had Andrew given up on doing anything beyond what they had already tried? He hoped not.

‘I have other clients.’

‘I can afford you. stop seeing them’

That again. They had talked about this already. He wouldn’t change his mind. It was an absolute no go for him.

‘no.’

‘I hate sharing’

“So you keep telling me,” Neil said out loud. He smiled half-heartedly. All the things he could read into this, all those bad romance clichés. He remembered watching Pretty Woman with his mother one night and scoffed. He had hated that movie back then and he still thought it stupid today. He had never read The Little Glass Slipper, but he was pretty sure that a modern version of Cinderella was some whore, sleeping with her drug dealer, and the happy end would be them OD’ing together –wait, nope, that part was Romeo and Juliet. Anyway…

‘I’m not a thing. You’ll live.’

It took Andrew a little while this time. Neil wondered if he was doing other things.

‘MON+FRI’

Hm, no that didn’t work. He was still seeing someone on Sundays. Those scenes could get pretty intense and he really didn’t want to do anything on Mondays. He liked his day off.

‘does tue/fri work for you?’

He watched the three little dots appear on his screen and stared when he got Andrew’s reply. What the fuck?

‘do belt marks fade overnight nowadays?’

It shouldn’t bother him but it did. Somehow he had thought they were already past this. It was one thing for Andrew to make stupid remarks and look down on him at their first meeting. It was another now, after they had met. And what a stupid thing to say… The things he could say to that… He didn’t answer. He turned the screen off and let the phone fall onto the bed beside him. “Asshole,” he mumbled. It fit though, didn’t it? He thought about it. I can afford you, I hate sharing… Andrew was still seeing him as a whore and technically, yes, he did sell himself. You like him. That’s your problem. You want him to think of you as something else. You are an idiot. He felt stupid for being angry.

A few minutes went by and then his phone lit up again and vibrated next to him. The incoming call had Andrew written on the screen. It would be alright for him to ignore it, he told himself. It took him two more seconds to pick up.

“What?” Neil sighed.

“Are you really offended?” Andrew sounded amused. It made Neil even angrier.

“Andrew, it’s late.”

“Interesting. Does the truth usually offend you?” He should just hang up. Let the guy have his fun. What use was it to discuss anything with someone who was intoxicated anyway? He would just get an unusual reaction and it most likely wouldn’t be one he wanted.

“Truth?”

“You let yourself get beaten up and fucked for money. That’s the truth, isn’t it?” Why couldn’t he just drop it?

“Here is one for you. You need to get high to ask someone like me to meet you.” Andrew laughed at that. It was the first time Neil heard him laugh.

“Touché.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Let’s go out for dinner.” Andrew said and Neil only got half of it.

“What? Dinner?” He put the phone back to his ear.

“Or lunch, I don’t care. I’m paying you.”

“In public?”

“Yes.” It sounded like he wanted to add an amused what do you think.

“No.” He wouldn’t go out with Andrew. He would end up on pictures and people would ask stupid questions. He couldn’t afford that.

“Uh-hmm…You won’t explain that?”

“No.” He had said in the beginning that he would never explain why he wouldn’t do certain things. Seemed like Andrew remembered that part. “Good night, Andrew.” He hung up.

They met the next evening at Andrew’s place. The goalkeeper opened the door, looking rather disheveled in a dark gray t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, displaying his strong upper body while pooling around his narrow waist. The goalkeeper’s trademark armbands covered his forearms, exposed for the first time since they started meeting like this. Black sweatpants, bare feet, and messy hair standing in various directions and falling into his pale face, gave him a just-out-of-bed look Neil couldn’t deny he rather liked.

“Did I wake you?” He himself had dressed the way he usually did for Andrew. Leather jacket over a t-shirt, black pants, either jeans or cotton - jeans today - and his leather boots, which were just at their perfect age, a little scuffed, old enough to get in and out without tying the laces but still in good shape. He was clean-shaven and freshly showered, his hair a little messy but it suited his features , so he hadn’t bothered fixing it.

Andrew just shrugged and opened the door all the way, before he turned around and let Neil in. He was rubbing his eyes and his movements were a little slower than usual. Neil was sure he had woken him. After closing the door and taking his shoes and jacket off, he found Andrew in the kitchen at the coffee machine. Neil studied his back, admiring the display of back and shoulder muscles under the soft fabric. This guy could throw a ball across the whole court with perfect aim. How many times had he fantasized about playing with him, being the backliner Andrew could rely on? There would be that little moment when Andrew would look at him, after catching a striker’s best shot, and he would know how goddamn fast Neil was. All it would take was that one look and Neil would dash across the field and Andrew would aim the ball high and his aim would be perfect and Neil would catch it, not caring that he was the backliner. He would take the shot and score, and the crowd would go wild.

Andrew put two cups down onto the coffee table, claiming the sofa for himself, leaving Neil’s on the opposite side in front of one of the leather chairs. He took a sip, then leaned back, one arm resting on the back of the sofa and head falling back, glancing lazily from the ceiling down to his visitor.

“You have that look on your face,” he said, voice a little scratchy. “What are you thinking about?”

Neil blinked. He didn’t know he had a look. He grinned a little and shrugged. “Exy.” Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes before closing them for a moment.

“Figures.” He took another sip of coffee, then returned the cup back to the table. “Two freaks of a kind. Same obsessed brain, same look…”

Neil sat down opposite of Andrew. “Same as who?”

“Kevin,” Andrew said, as if it should be obvious. Neil couldn’t help but tense a little when he heard that name. A name from his past, a name that haunted his nightmares of the present, a name that nevertheless inspired awe in his waking moments –awe and resentment and fear. He tried to evade and changed the topic.

“It’s just daydreaming. I’m sure you do it too.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Sure as hell not about Exy, though.” Neil cocked his head at that.

“But you must like it. Exy, I mean.” He couldn’t imagine someone being so good at something and not liking it. That was absurd. He would either have to love or hate it, there was nothing in between at that level.

“Says who? It’s just a game.” Neil wanted to protest at that but when he opened his mouth, Andrew cut him off. “Do you even play?” He sounded tired.

“I played little league. Quit in high school. Never made it far.”

“Any good?” It was a tricky topic for him. He could lie, but he wanted to talk about Exy with Andrew. He had always wanted to talk to him about Exy. He could talk about Exy all day if it was up to him. But it was dangerous. Too many details and Andrew would get clues and could figure out who he really was. He couldn’t let that happen. He shrugged.

“I guess. My parents never wanted me to play.” It wasn’t really a lie. His mother had not wanted him to play. His father had other plans for him in mind before he had decided to sell him to the Moriyamas. “I just couldn’t live without it, I guess.”

“So do you still play? You said you quit.” It somehow hurt to admit that he had run away from his team, from Exy.

“Just once a week with a bunch of random guys.” He didn’t mention the hours of training he did by himself. “I’m still a decent backliner.” He was a great backliner and he knew it.

“Most people would aim for striker.” Yeah, most amateurs with big dreams about fame would. Striker, quarterback… all the same. They didn’t really get the importance of a team sport; they wanted the attention.

“I was trained to be a backliner. That’s where I had the most potential, I guess. Besides, a striker is worth shit if he can’t make it past the defense.” Andrew seemed unimpressed. He leaned back again, bored.

“Why did you ask me if I was high?” He changed the topic suddenly. Neil changed gear just as fast.

“You told me that you still use. It was a hunch.” Andrew didn’t like to hear that, he could tell. He didn’t know why though. The goalkeeper was silent for a while, just sitting there, eyes unfocused, staring somewhere above Neil’s head and Neil was happy just watching him for now. Minutes went by and then Andrew rubbed his eyes again and leaned forward, eyes on Neil.

“I’m going to blow you today. Still yes?”

“Still,” Neil agreed. Then he thought of something. “Before we start…” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to reveal a strip of bare skin just above his hipbone. Angry bruises bloomed there. They were two days old, caused by a wooden table he had leaned over. All the other marks of that night had faded, not being more than red lines of a rather gently used riding crop. Andrew might think every client got his kicks out of beating him but that was far from the truth. But Neil saw no point in correcting the man. He knew Andrew hated to share and he had clients before who refused to do scenes with him so soon after another. It ruined their fantasies. Neil thought Andrew must have seen enough bruises during his Exy career not to care thought.

The goalkeeper had his trademark expression of boredom and annoyance fixed on his face. It seemed to be his special blend reserved for everything Neil these days. He clicked his tongue but said nothing, though Neil could guess what he thought. You made your own bed…

“I brought you these.” Neil pulled out three different brands of condoms from his pocket, two of each, and put them on the table. “Since you disliked the last one so much.” Andrew frowned down on them, maybe unsure what to say, Neil didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that one of them had chocolate printed on the wrapper. He stifled a grin and reached instead for another one, to push it into Andrew’s direction.

“These taste like absolutely nothing.” He shrugged. “I use them all the time.” Would have last time, if you had given me the chance, he added mentally. Andrew picked it up. Seemed like he didn’t want to comment on any of this and Neil was fine with that. He just hoped Andrew wasn’t embarrassed about what had happened last time. No, he thought, he isn’t. But something wasn’t quite right today.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.” Those hazel eyes looked back up at him, blonde eyebrows arching in a go ahead expression. “Is something wrong? Or is this you when you come down from your drugs?” The goalkeeper thought about an answer, glancing sideways, curled his tongue and licked the inside of his teeth. Neil followed the movement with his eyes fixated on those slightly parted lips. He waited, not sure if he would get an answer. Then Andrew just shrugged.

“Alright,” Neil said. It was. Even if Andrew seemed different today, it wasn’t his place to worry. His client was calm and seemed alright otherwise. He got no sense of danger from him, no aggression, no nervous ticks, nothing. He got up and came around the table to stand in front of Andrew. The Exy player looked up at him lazily and it didn’t take him long to reach out and run a hand over Neil’s flat stomach. Clever fingers found their way under the fabric and stroked his skin, seeking out marks. Andrew leaned forward, pushed the shirt upward and mouthed at the warm skin next to his bellybutton with his eyes closed. He licked and nipped while his hands found more skin. Neil looked down at him, at his pale, strangely gentle looking face and felt something very unprofessional at that moment. Andrew’s movements were slower than usual, calmer, gentler. A little like a cat, Neil thought.

“Can I,” he asked in a low voice, one hand inches away from Andrew’s hair. The hazel eyes slid open and closed again, with a sound of assent coming from his throat. Neil wound his fingers through the pale strands and ran his nails gently over Andrews scalp. It was a slow gesture, as slow as this moment, lacking the usual heat and hardness he had come to associate with Andrew. It made the goalkeeper shiver a little like he had hoped it would. It also made something ache inside of him. It was like a warning, screaming at him, telling him to stop this, to get a grip, to get away, to run because this was dangerous. This was all his mother had always warned him about. This was getting attached, involved, trapped. He fought it down. He could handle this.

Andrew opened his eyes and Neil thought he must have noticed his inner conflict and sudden unease, but the goalkeeper just took his free hand and pulled him down onto the sofa next to himself. While this wasn’t really an unusual situation for Neil, to sit down next to another man and let himself be pushed backwards, until he lay on his back, having his legs arranged to comfortably fit them both on the sofa, it was the first time Andrew did this. Neil had come to expect and respect the lines Andrew drew while interacting with him, the distance he needed, the safety and control in the whole situation. Space was important to Andrew, personal space, the setting of the scene. His living room was his chosen playground and having Neil standing somewhere seemed always less intimate.

Now, he was kneeling between Neil’s legs, bent forwards, supporting himself with one hand, using the other to touch Neil’s upper body. He took his time, hand above the shirt again, fingers finding his left nipple, rubbing it gently. Neil had his hands back in Andrew’s hair and pulled a little to get him to lean down and kiss him but the Exy player refused. Instead, he leaned down and kissed the small strip of exposed skin above Neil’s jeans. Neil reached down to take his shirt off but Andrew caught his hand in time. Clothes on today, Neil thought and wondered if it was because of the bruises. There were none Andrew hadn’t seen yet. He went back to playing with the goalkeeper’s hair. He was getting hard just from this.

Andrew reached down and rubbed his erection through the fabric of the jeans and Neil let his eyes fall shut. He spread his legs a little wider and felt Andrew’s tongue dipping into his navel. The hand cupping him squeezed a little and Neil hummed low in his throat, moved his hips. He felt heat coursing through his body, more than a little foreplay like this should make him feel. Andrew kept teasing him like this and even though it felt good, too good, Neil was getting a little desperate. Andrew was too gentle with him today. It reminded him of his fantasies, and he tried his best to keep those locked up and out of the way.

“Andrew…” He lifted his shoulders off the sofa and leaned forward, both hands in Andrew’s hair. He willed the man to look up at him, to stop –no, not to stop, to do something. When Andrew didn’t look at him he laughed a little breathlessly. “You are such a tease today.”

“Complaining again?”

“No. Just…” He didn’t know what to say. He leaned back again, eyes on the ceiling. He had a serious hard on by now and Andrew kept massaging it through his jeans. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself a little. The zipper had gotten in the way and it was getting uncomfortable. He hissed quietly. “Wait.”

“What?”

“The jeans. Just let me…” He reached down, only to have his hand pushed aside again. Neil frowned and looked down but Andrew seemed to have understood him and was already opening his pants and pulling the zipper down. His black boxer briefs couldn’t hide his erection at all. Andrew got those out of the way too and left them halfway down Neil’s thighs. This proved to be impractical, so the jeans and underwear ended up on the floor beside them. Andrew leaned forward and took both of Neil’s hands.

“Don’t touch me while I’m doing this,” he said and Neil could tell that it was important to him. He nodded.

“I won’t.” Andrew regarded him with a searching look.

“And try to keep still,” he added reluctantly.

“I promise.”

Andrew nodded. He pulled the condom out of his pocket. He hesitated for a second and then pushed Neil’s arms up above his head. The black haired man left them there and watched Andrew’s steady hands getting the condom onto him. The goalkeeper bent over him and kissed his six pack abs once more, looking up, raising his head a little to check on Neil’s hands again. He couldn’t see them like this, Neil realized, and trust was still a big issue between them.

“Wait.” Neil crossed his forearms behind his lower back, so Andrew wouldn’t have to check again. “Is this okay?” Andrew nodded once. Then he leaned down again and gave Neil’s erection a curious lick. Glad that he seemed satisfied with the taste, or rather lack of, this time, Neil leaned his head back again and concentrated on holding still. The thought was nearly wiped from his mind, as Andrew took hold of him and swallowed him whole.

“Fuck,” he got out, his face a mask of disbelief and pleasure. He felt Andrew sucking hard and dug his fingernails into his forearms to keep still. “Andrew,” he moaned. He bit his lower lip as Andrew’s clever mouth started to play with him. It felt so damn good; he could barely keep from moving his hips. Andrew’s other hand held him in place but snaked upwards when he was sure Neil wouldn’t move. It found his nipple again and twisted, making Neil gasp and his toes curl.

Neil’s mouth fell open and he moaned again, as he felt Andrew going lower again, felt his throat work. “Oh god,” was all he could manage. He desperately wanted to get his hands on Andrew, encourage him, reward him, anything, but he couldn’t. Andrew’s mouth was doing things to him he had only felt once before and it was driving him crazy. He was getting closer to his climax with every lick, every drag of the man’s lips, every time he swallowed.

“Andrew I’m so close,” he moaned and when the blonde hummed around him in response, he was done for. “Ah!” His muscles tensed and locked up and Neil was a little proud when he managed to keep still, even though all his hips wanted to do was buck up into that delicious heat. He shuddered and looked unseeingly at the ceiling, while Andrew sat back up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

The goalkeeper looked pleased and Neil felt an overwhelming rush of pride because of that. He could see how hard Andrew was already. Neil knew that Andrew was going to leave him here now to take care of himself, but he wanted him to stay.

“Kiss me,” he said and looked up at the goalkeeper. He didn’t know what Andrew saw in his face at that moment that made him pause, before he leaned back down and kissed Neil hard. Neil pulled his aching arms out from behind his back but left his fingers inches away from Andrew’s hair. He didn’t know if he had his permission and his mouth was too busy to ask at the moment. Andrew took one of his hands and answered his question for him, leading it into his hair. Neil thanked him by kissing down Andrew’s jaw and neck and when he felt the man above him shiver, he moved up again and nipped at his ear.

Andrew reached for Neil’s other hand and placed it on his shoulder. It made Neil pause before he heard the goalkeeper’s low voice.

“Only above the shirt.” Neil nodded. Another piece of Andrew’s body free for him to explore. It made his throat tight with all those unspoken words he knew Andrew wouldn’t like to hear. Instead he used his new freedom and explored Andrew’s broad chest and strong shoulders. His fingertips found hard six pack abs below the fabric and he followed them down admiringly. Below the navel, he reached behind Andrew’s back and followed his spine back up. The man was gorgeous, he had known that, but now he could feel it too. He rubbed his cheek against Andrew’s neck.

“Andrew,” he asked barely above a whisper.

“Hm?” Andrew was pulling at his hair, so he could kiss him again. Neil followed his wish and waited until their mouths separated again.

“Stay here.” It was a gamble, he knew. Andrew had already given him more than he had expected today. The Exy player frowned and leaned back a little. “Yes?” He ran his fingers down Andrew’s chest before he took his hands back. “Or no?”

<<Chapter 6 Chapter 8>>

#lntycm #andreil #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic

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c-valentino · 7 years

Text

Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug IV

As expected, Andrew hadn't contacted him again. Neil did his best not to think about it. It happened all the time, he wanted to say. He met with a new client and it just didn't work out for one of them. No big deal, you had to look at it in a professional way. Yet, he was still thinking about it. Luckily, he knew of ways to take his mind off things. He checked his phone one more time for messages and then left it on the kitchen counter to get changed. He just couldn't live without it, he admitted, –Exy.

He had always been meant to be a player. He still thought he would have made Court, if his past had allowed it. This sport –Neil would have gladly given up his life for it. He had no life left to give, though. It had been taken from him and he was still running from the remnants of it. Where to, he had clue.

He had still clung to his dream to become a professional player until high school, when he had disobeyed his dead mother’s wish and joined a low-ranking school team in Millport. Now, years later, he thought of it as one of his biggest mistakes. They had nearly caught him back then. It had also cost him his education, since he had needed to vanish overnight, less than two months before his graduation. From there, so much had gone downhill for him. He grinned a little as he thought about it. Downhill… hadn't he already reached rock bottom long before that? How deep did this hellhole people called life go? Losing one’s family, dreams, past and future… how much was left after that?

And still, he wouldn't let go of Exy. He needed it for his sanity, even if it was just the occasional game with this local patchwork team of unprofessionals, who met once every two weeks to give it their everything on the court. He didn’t know even half of their names, only their faces. He knew what they were like on the court, knew, that he could beat them all. It took the joy out of it somewhat but it was still better than endless drills on his own. Exy was in his blood and he would never want to let go of his racquet.

The matches were always a strange mix of cheerful greetings, rising tempers, hurt egos and an outlet for pent-up aggression from daily lives which didn't revolve around this sport. If someone had a bad day at work, trouble at home, unpaid bills or a problem with no solution, he or she would drag all that onto the court and try to forget about it within the thrill of battle. Those were rough games. Although Neil always did his best not to shine too brightly on the court, the first fight of the evening had always been about which side he would play for that evening, until they came up with the solution, that he would have to switch sides halfway through. Rules were bent until the breaking point, voices raised in heated discussions and bodies hit the ground with sometimes the bare minimum of protective gear. The cheers though, were all heartfelt. The joy of a victory would wash over them like a catharsis.

When he came home that night, he had a message waiting for him. The man who was only labeled as The German in his mind, was a client in his late thirties. Neil had known him for years now, in fact, he had been the first client he had even taken on. If you could call it that. Neil supposed, the man had chosen him back then.

They had met at a club, that night. It hadn't been Neil’s day –or maybe, it hadn't even been his month. Things hadn't looked so great. He just had skipped town again, giving in to his growing paranoia, which had threatened to drown him once again. Neil had bought himself a new identity back then, something he tried to avoid if possible. A fake identity was an expensive thing to buy and even though he had started out with a respectable amount of money in the beginning, his funds had been running low after years of running. It was a miracle they had lasted him for so long, to be honest. He had always made sure to never buy anything unnecessary, apart from his Exy gear. He had always been paranoid and careful enough, so that no one had ever stolen from him. If not for his nervous breakdowns that caused him to leave everything behind overnight if the lurking shadows were closing in on him again, he still would have been able to go on without thinking about money for a while.

Yet barely five minutes ago, Neil had given in to the fear of being followed. There had been no trace of anyone that night. Still, he had followed his gut feeling. He had known that he wasn't going home that night. Whenever the shadows were closing in, he wouldn't go home in fear of dragging them there. He had made that mistake too many time already. Instead, he had crossed the street and ducked into the first nightclub he had spotted. It hadn't mattered to him what kind of club it was. He hadn't planed on staying. Sometimes, he just couldn't bear the feeling of being outside in the open.

It had been a gay nightclub with bright neon lights, flashing in harsh contrast to the dark clothes of the crowd. Neil had found himself amid all kinds of men, dressed in outfits ranging from latex and leather, over shiny, skintight fabric, to the occasional black suit. More than one head had turned in his direction and it had creeped him out. The excessive amount of flirting hadn't helped. Neil had retreated to one of the bars, the one furthest away from the moving crowd on the dance floor and nearest the VIP area, where people sat to be seen. He had been trying to work up the nerve to go back outside again. Neil had ordered a drink, just a soda and tried to calm down, when the bartender told him, that his drink had already been paid for. He had nodded at a man sitting at one of the tables in the back. He had been watching Neil. Still creeped out but trying to avoid further unwanted attention, Neil had raised his glass and nodded his thanks, then lowered his head.

He had gone over to watching the bartenders work. Those guys were always the safest of all people to stay around. They were unlikely to want anything from a customer, apart from their money and the occasional interesting story to fill the slow hours. But the club had been busy that night and the staff had left him alone, as long as he had his drink in front of him.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” The question had come from a man, who had pushed his way through to stand beside Neil at the bar.

“No thanks, I already got one,” he had declined, without sparing more than a sideway glance to make sure that this guy wasn't a threat. He wasn’t. It was just a guy at a party, trying to score. Well, too bad for him, he would just have to try his luck elsewhere.

“I’ll buy you another. What did you get? Or we could dance first.” Not so easily discouraged, it seemed.

“No. Don’t take it personally but I’m not interested.” He deemed that to be polite enough.

“Don’t be that way. Let’s have a little fun. You look like you could use it, don’t take it personally,” the guy tried. Geez. Neil had thought about something less polite to say, when someone pre-empted him.

“I believe he said no. No need to be obtrusive.” It had been the guy who had paid for his soda. Dressed in an expensive suit, open collar, no tie, he had towered over the them, his voice like velvet with an almost unnoticeable German accent. He had been older than Neil, too old to be hitting on him, he had thought. Maybe not.

“Would you mind? We are trying to–“ the first guy had started, before he had been interrupted by a security, who had been standing at the entrance to the VIP area earlier.

“Something the matter?” Well, fuck, Neil had thought. So much for staying under the radar.

“I think this gentleman was about to leave,” the German had said. Neil couldn't even get two words in to calm the whole situation down, before the guy next to him had been escorted to the exit.

“Thanks but that was unnecessary.”

“Was it? I don’t know. It wouldn't surprise me, if you wouldn't have been the only guy he had bothered tonight. It’s bad for business.”

“So you run this place?” He wasn't interested. Not really.

“Hardly. I own a third of it. It’s a nice investment.” Someone else had gotten too close on Neil’s other side, trying to get the bartender’s attention and Neil had felt the revulsion raising the hairs on his neck. “Pardon me but would you like to join me for a bit? You look like you could use a little more space.” He had been about to decline but he had not felt like joining the crowd again and going outside was still not an option. So he had nodded, without looking at the man and followed him back to one of the tables. They had sat down in white leather armchairs next to each other, facing the crowd. Neil had chosen his seat first, expecting the other man to sit across from him but he hadn’t. There had been enough space between them though, so Neil hadn't said anything. He had just taken another sip of his soda.

Luckily, he hadn't been the center of attention afterwards. People had joined them at the table, talking to the German. Some had introduced themselves and Neil had given them a fake name. Christian, he had called himself. No one had stayed long at their table and no one had paid him too much attention, so he had finally been able to relax a little.

“Another,” the German had asked. His glass had been empty. A waiter had come by to collect it.

“Uhm, yeah. Thanks.”

“Or would you like something else?”

“No, I don't drink.” The man had smiled at him, a little amused.

“I’m sure we got more than just soda to choose from.”

“Well, add some mint and lime to it then.” The waiter had nodded and left.

“So, Christian, first time here?” Neil had leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Yes, first time.”

“I figured. I hope you don’t mind me saying but you looked a little… out of place.” Neil had accepted that with a little chuckle.

“Yeah, maybe.” His order had been placed in front of him and he had thanked the waiter. “So you tried to save me? That’s awfully kind of you,” he had tried to steer the conversation back to the man next to him.

“Maybe. You looked like you had a bad day. I think we all can relate to that.”

“Hm,” Neil had nodded and they had raised their glasses. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” His first sip had been a careful one but Neil could detect no alcohol in his drink. Hopefully no drugs either. They had been once again joined by other men at the table and Neil had gladly sat back and just listened for a while, watching the crowd. It hadn't bothered him to watch men flirting and kissing, dancing with each other. Some people might have found it offensive, some might have been disgusted, he just didn't care. People could do what they wanted as long as they left him alone. He certainly wouldn't bother them.

“Pardon me for saying something you might think offensive,” the German had said after a while. “I can’t help it, I have to ask you.” Here we go, Neil had thought.

“Wait,” he had sighed. “Before you say anything, I’m not interested.”

“You don’t even know what I want to know.”

“I think I do, though. Let’s not pretend. You were about to ask me, if I would have sex with you. –You can deny it or you can just admit to it. I’m not offended. It’s kinda obvious, anyway. Why else would you have invited me?”

“Jesus, you don’t like to beat about the bush, do you?” Neil had expected the man to be at least a little shaken by being called out like that. He hadn't been. His tone had carried no hint of embarrassment.

“It’s a waste of time.”

“I like that. So, let me ask you something else then. Would you do it, if I paid you for it?” Not the direction Neil had thought his night would take.

“You can’t afford me,” he had tried to shoot the man down.

“What if I can?”

‘Ich bin in der Stadt. Komm doch später im Club vorbei.’* Neil frowned at his phone. It was hard to shoot this man down. Not that he particularly liked him, he just didn't want to get on his bad side.

‘Vielleicht’ It was a vague response but they both knew he would show up.

His post-Exy high evaporated and Neil closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Back to business. He left his coffee untouched, turned around and went over to his makeshift wardrobe. It was really just a cloth rack, suspended by two strings, hanging from the ceiling. It took up the minimum amount of space and could be removed in no time. Next to it stood a metal drawer he had picked up somewhere from the streets a few years back. It contained all of his clothes that wouldn't fit on a hanger. Not too long ago, all his belongings had fit into one duffle bag. The fact that he actually paid rent and had a few pieces of furniture now showed him, that he had gotten more comfortable in his life –maybe a little too comfortable. Neil always made sure that he owned nothing he couldn't leave behind if he had to.

He picked out an outfit for tonight and threw it onto the bed. He still had a few hours.

It had been a surprise, when Andrew Minyard had called again. It had taken the Exy player a little over a week to contact him again, requesting another meeting. Neil had agreed to it without thinking. He couldn't complain about their last one.

Once again they met at Andrew’s place, with the goalkeeper waiting at the door. Neil followed him inside.

Changed your mind, Neil was about to ask but didn’t. First of all, it would be unprofessional and second, it was obvious Andrew had changed his mind –why ask stupid questions? This was Alex talking, he realized, a little confused about it. Usually he was very good at keeping his fake personas with the people they belonged to. Alex had no place here.

“What do you want to do tonight,” he asked instead, standing in the middle of Andrew’s spacious living room.

“I want what we did last time,” Andrew replied. Yes or no, Neil? He didn't need to ask. But he needed to hear an answer.

“Yes.” Neil closed the gap between them and Andrew moved in for the first kiss. Obediently, Neil crossed his wrists behind his back, while Andrew’s hands slid up his chest to his shoulders and down again. Without anything to hold on to for support, Neil had to flex his abdominals and back muscles to stay in place and Andrew seemed to approve, as his fingers found his six pack abs under the soft material of the shirt.

Teeth found his lower lip and bit down, slowly releasing it in favor of licking the tingling skin. Unable to show affection with his hands, Neil slid his clean-shaven cheek against Andrew’s like a cat, then dipped down and moved his parted lips down the goalkeeper’s neck. Andrew smelled like cigarettes and body wash. He licked and nipped at the bare skin just above the collar. Hissing, Andrew grabbed him by the hair but didn't pull him away, allowing Neil to play a bit more, before he couldn't take it anymore and found Neil’s lips again.

The kiss deepened under the firm press of Andrew’s lips. Neil had to hold himself upright enough to press back and relent enough, back arching, to start small attacks at Andrew’s neck in between. It went on and on and he couldn't complain at all about doing this for as long as Andrew wanted, even as his abdominals started to tremble a little under the unyielding pressure. He kept his wrist firmly crossed behind his back, thinking about how it would feel to move his hips forward, pressing them against Andrew��s, how he would like to grab the blonde hair and run his fingertips over Andrew’s scalp.

The thoughts vanished from his mind, as he leaned back a little more to find that pale neck again and Andrew moved in, not done with challenging Neil’s tongue for another round of teasing, heated slides. All it took was this little, unstable moment and a sudden loss of tension in his muscles for Neil to lose his balance. An inarticulate sound escaped his mouth and his wrists uncrossed out of pure reflex to regain his balance. His first impulse had been to hold onto Andrew for support but his head screamed no, causing his arms to flail helplessly at his sides for a second. Andrew, busy with exploring Neil’s firm chest, lost his grip on the the thin material of Neil’s shirt slipping through his fingers. His eyes widened a bit as Neil jerked back and he didn't manage to grab his flailing arm in time, even with his goalkeeper reflexes. The scene found a sudden end, with Neil falling gracelessly on his ass on the hard wood floor and Andrew looking down at him perplexed.

A sudden, irrational rush of embarrassment overtook Neil and colored his high cheeks. He played it down with a short laugh.

Andrew hadn't seen that coming. The look on Neil’s face had been a comical one but he didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He just grabbed Neil’s forearm and pulled him back onto his feet, staring at the younger man, while all he could think about was how Neil hadn't grabbed him for support. This guy… he growled inwardly, annoyed that it pleased him so much.

He turned and moved over to the sofa, sat down and leaned back lazily, taking in every movement, every inch of this man in front of him. He beckoned Neil closer with index and middle finger.

“Do you want a show?” Neil asked and hooked his thumbs teasingly under the hem of his shirt and twisted them without revealing more than a sliver of bare skin yet.

“Not today,” Andrew said and leaned back a little more.

“You sure?” The taller man came over and stood directly in front of Andrew. Smiling, Neil pulled his shirt off with one hand and threw it to the side onto the far end of the sofa. Andrew looked up at him, permitting himself to think about all the things he had ever wanted to do with another man for a moment. He didn't kid himself, he wasn't even halfway there yet. Neil put his hands into his back pockets and arched his back a little, flexing his muscles.

Andrew sat up straight again and reached up to touch the scars on Neil’s upper body. They were still very visible, would never fade but they looked old. He must have gotten at least some of them during his childhood. Still, there were a lot and while some of them clearly told the story of their origin, like the gunshot wound or the burned skin on his shoulder, some did not. While Andrew carried most of his scars on the inside, Neil displayed his openly on front of him, owned them, wore them like medals, like a survivor. Andrew wondered, if he would ever be able to to that. He was suddenly strangely aware of his wristband, an item he hadn't thought twice of in years.

Neil kept his eyes on Andrew’s hand, remembering not to look at the goalkeeper’s face for too long. They were still on solid ground here, had done this before. But Andrew wanted to push himself further tonight. There was no point to any of this if he didn’t.

“I want to blow you.” Neil look at him then, before giving his answer.

“Yes, if you want to.” Andrew’s hand slid down over bare skin, until his fingers hooked under Neil’s belt and pants.

This could get a little awkward, Neil feared. Andrew had admitted to not having much experience. Neil doubted the man had ever given another guy a blowjob. Did that mean Andrew wanted him to teach him? He could do that, no doubt but communication wasn't exactly their strong suit. He wasn't worried about himself. A first time blowjob wasn't always a pleasant thing for either side but he would have liked to teach Andrew in a more direct approach.

He didn't mind Andrew’s fingers hooked under his waistband like that, Neil thought. Andrew keeping him close like this, he didn't mind that at all. The blonde leaned in and kissed his stomach, right below his navel and again, there were his teeth. Neil smiled down at Andrew, as the young man bit him playfully. Andrew wasn't shy.

He let the Exy player kiss, lick and bite his skin for a while, standing there like a statue and watching Andrew do it, while those hazel eyes were fixed on his scars. “This feels a little one-sided,” he said after a while.

“Are you complaining,” Andrew scoffed.

“Why would I?” Why indeed? Imagining Andrew Minyard giving him a blowjob like this made Neil’s pants feel a little tighter. He followed that train of thought. It would only make things easier for them later.

“Try to keep standing up this time,” Andrew made fun of him and Neil rolled his eyes, half smirking.

“I’ll try,” he promised. Andrew opened his belt and pants and Neil helped him to slide them down with his now free hands. He let his arms hang loosely at his sides afterwards, watching Andrew palming his growing erection through his black underwear. He wanted to smooth those blonde locks back and keep looking at this pale face he had seen in countless pictures.

“Are you thinking of Exy?” Neil blinked. What? He frowned and remembered their little game and Andrew’s fascination with his fantasies.

“No.” The blonde looked up at him. “I’m not.” Andrew shrugged and focused his attention on Neil’s hips again, stripping him of the last obstacle. Neil was about to remind Andrew of their talk about rules and protection. He wouldn't let Andrew do anything without a condom, even if Neil was on the receiving end. His last test had only been two months ago but he had shared the bed with three different men since then on multiple occasions. He always drew his line at hand jobs and he wouldn't let Andrew be the first to cross it. He wouldn't risk infecting the man. It turned out though, he didn't need to remind him. Andrew was already reaching into his pocket, pulling out a condom.

“Should I,” Neil offered.

“I think I can manage,” Andrew replied and ripped the foil packet open. Neil watched him but once again, Andrew showed no hesitation and managed it without fumbling. “Hands,” he reminded Neil. Obediently, the taller man clasped his hands behind his back. He anticipated the moment Andrew looked up at his face and managed to avert his gaze in time.

Andrew looked down at his own hand for a moment, rubbed his thump over the lingering residue of the coating on his fingers. Judging by the packet, it was just a standard brand you could pick up at any drug store. It would do the job. Neil had no worries there. There was a pause while Andrew just looked at him, hands resting on his own thighs, sitting in front of Neil.

Unbidden thoughts crossed his mind. It’s not gonna suck itself, in Alex’ tone of voice. He didn't even know where he had first come across that line, some sort of picture with a guy who had it tattooed along his waistline, he thought. Stupid, he knew Andrew was just trying to work up the nerve to move forward. This would be so much easier, if he could just find the right words Andrew needed to hear, if he would be allowed to touch the man. All he could do right now was to stand in front of him like a soulless mannequin that didn't mind waiting, didn't notice, didn't feel any of the awkwardness.

There was nothing in Andrew’s face. It was wiped clean of any emotions but Neil thought his mind must be racing. You can make mistakes when you are with me, he wanted to tell him. You don't have to be perfect, you don't even have to be good at it. You pay me for this.

All he said after a while was, “Don’t think about it.” He would have said nothing but it wasn't exactly the most ideal situation, trying to keep it up while Andrew wasn't even touching him anymore. Those hazel eyes met his again, as if Andrew had been too deep in his own thoughts to even notice the pause. He had meant to say ‘don’t think about what you are going to do and what could go wrong’ but Andrew looked at him like it meant something entirely different to him. Bad memories? Where have you been just now?

The goalkeeper ran his hands up Neil’s legs, touching the back of his thighs, grabbing his ass and holding him in place, when he finally leaned forward, lips parted and took him into his mouth. Neil had to bite back a grin at the face he made. In his opinion, there were nicer things than the taste of latex and some brands of lube. It wasn't a horrible taste but some people didn't like it. This one had a vaguely mint-like flavor with a strangely synthetic aftertaste, he remembered. Andrew didn't like it one bit. Using one hand to keep the condom in place at the base of Neil’s cock, he sucked lightly and ran his tongue along the underside. Neil would have liked it, if not every new inch of latex Andrew’s tongue licked seemed to disgust the man. Andrew looked like he wanted to spit. Neil blinked and looked down at him and when Andrew actually gaged, he took pity on him.

“Maybe we…” The goalkeeper glared up at him angrily. “should try another brand. You don’t like the taste?” Andrew leaned back and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and swallowed hard.

“It’s vile,” he mumbled from behind his hand.

“Just the taste?” Neil made sure.

“Yeah, what else would it be?” the goalkeeper snapped. Raising his hands placatingly at his sides, Neil would have liked to take a step back, but the coffee table was right behind him.

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” He jumped a little, as Andrew gripped his softening cock and slid the condom off in one, not too gentle motion and flung it across the room. Neil couldn't bite back a short hiss, although it hadn't hurt. Too close for comfort though. Or we won’t do this again if you’d rather rip my dick off right now, he thought. Scary.

Andrew made a disgusted sound and got up. His hands grabbed Neil’s shoulders and maneuvered him to the side and out of the way, so he wouldn't lose his balance.

“Go, wash that off,” he told him. Neil bent down and stepped out of his pants and underwear, which were only draped around one of his ankles by now. Feeling foolish in just socks, he left those right there too and marched naked across Andrew’s living room, down the hall, looking for the bathroom, picking up the used condom on his way to dispose of it. He noticed Andrew looking at him. The man was standing in his kitchen, rinsing his mouth out at the sink.

Neil found the bathroom after his second try, turned the lights on and washed all the lingering residue off his skin. He touched his fingers to his lips and licked them. Yap, that was the taste he remembered. It wasn't that bad in his opinion. After making sure he was clean, he grabbed a towel and wiped himself off, throwing it into the laundry hamper afterwards, so Andrew wouldn't accidentally use it.

He found the Exy player still in the kitchen when he came back, sucking at a spoon in his mouth and with a jar of something in his hand that looked suspiciously like chocolate spread. Neil smiled and stood on the other side of the bar, chin in hand.

“My turn, right?” Andrew looked at him and nodded. “Is it true? You like sweet things and your favorite food is double chocolate and caramel ice cream?” He had read that somewhere and remembered wondering if Andrew had actually said that during the interview or if it had been a joke.

“You are seriously taking a turn for that?” Andrew seemed unimpressed.

“Wait, is there a limit? I thought I get as many as I want.”

“Until you run out of truths that interest me.” The goalkeeper pushed the jar away, across the counter and leaned back to face Neil.

“Never heard that I am boring before.”

“There is always a first time for everything,” Andrew replied. “It’s true.”

“You don’t look like it,” Neil said, glad that the mood hadn't suffered.

“What does that even mean,” Andrew wanted to know.

“It means you look hot and not like you eat junk food all day.” I also can’t imagine someone like you having a sweet tooth.

“How would you know?” True, he hadn't even seen Andrew taken so much as his shirt off so far, hadn't touched him yet.

“I can tell. Plus, I’ve seen you in ads.” He wondered how much an athlete made from those. Andrew didn't even use social media.

“Photoshop.” Neil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Are you trying to say that you think you are ugly?”

“See? Now that turn would come in handy,” the goalkeeper made fun of him. He threw the spoon into the sink. Then he came around the bar and trapped Neil between his hands, gripping the wooden surface on either side of him, while the taller man turned around. When Andrew leaned in and held back at the last moment, head tilted to the right, eyes half closed, waiting, Neil could smell the chocolate on his breath. He closed his eyes and met Andrews lips with his own.

“Touch me,” Neil breathed between two kisses and when Andrew did, he spread his arms wide and held onto the bar. They kept kissing and Neil enjoyed those strong hands exploring his body, kneading muscles and tracing his scars. He widened his step without thinking the moment he felt Andrew’s knee pushing between his. The shorter man moved in even closer, thigh sliding up between Neil’s legs and Neil moved against it for some friction and moaned softly against Andrew’s lips.

Andrew’s hand grabbed his ass again and pulled while his mouth held Neil back, so the taller man had to tilt his hips, arching his back a little. He followed Andrew’s lead without thinking or opening his eyes. He just made sure to tighten his grip on the bar behind him to keep his balance. With one hand keeping Neil in place, Andrew reached down with the other and began to massage his erection, listening to those soft sounds the man in front of him made, when he was touching him just right and he could feel his cock jump a little. Neil hissed, when Andrew’s leg moved and the friction of the fabric was on the verge of painful.

He forgot about it as he felt the Exy player moving in, grinding down against his naked thigh instead. Andrew was hard, he could feel him through his pants. Neil opened his eyes and looked at the pale face in front of his. Concentration was once again written all over him. Neil didn't dare to break the spell. He kissed back harder, moved his hips into Andrew’s hand and slid his thigh along the goalkeeper’s groin. He heard Andrew’s breath hitch a little and left his lips for now, in favor of kissing along his jawline. Before he reached his neck, he hesitated and asked:

“Yes?” as quietly as he could. Andrew leaned his head to the side and nodded once. Neil was more careful than the last time, only pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, letting his warm breath ghost over it. The man holding him shivered but didn't make a sound. The color returned to those pale cheeks and Neil felt a little proud of himself. Andrew’s grip got tighter, his movements more urgent and Neil moaned against his neck. He felt Andrew’s cock twitching against his thigh. He wanted to touch it, wanted to take those pants off and run his hands over those strong legs. Dammit, he was enjoying this way too much, a simple hand job like this, another man using him to get off… It was business but he actually liked it, wanted it.

“I’m close,” he warned Andrew. He didn't think Andrew wanted him to come all over his clothes. “Andrew…” Andrew found his lips again and shut him up. It was all tongue and firm lips and heat and Andrew, grinding against him and his hand stroking him mercilessly. “Ah!” Neil leaned his forehead against Andrew’s and stared down between them as he came. He made a mess all over himself, the goalkeeper’s hand and pants and sucked in a breath that got stuck in his lungs, while he listened to Andrews harsh breathing. The man was close, he realized, just from jerking him off like this. He could feel it, yet Andrew didn't touch himself. Neil felt the strong impulse to reach out and pull him close and barely managed to hold back. He saw the conflict in Andrew’s face, some unknown battle he couldn't understand and when Andrew looked up from his hand, still holding Neil and found his eyes on him, he got angry, stepped back and turned around.

“Andrew–“ He didn't want to hear it. Andrew left, went down the hall and slammed the bathroom door shut behind himself. “Fuck,” Neil mouthed and looked at the ceiling.

When Andrew came back, he was still pissed. He had changed into loose sweatpants and threw the money onto the bar, keeping his distance from Neil, who had dressed again and waited, standing next to the window. There was a long and awkward pause between them, then Andrew retreated back to the kitchen window and opened it, before he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

“Listen, you can tell me to shut up, ‘cause it’s none of my business,” Neil began and tried to lock eyes with Andrew, “but if you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, I can’t do anything about it. You got to tell me, ‘cause I can’t read your mind. I’m sure we can make it work.”

“Shut up.” His tone was as flat and emotionless as Neil had feared. He let his shoulders fall and sighed a little. Well, he had said it.

“Alright. Got it.” He took his money and turned around to look at Andrew once more. “Feel free to call me again.” Andrew didn't reply.

<<Chapter 3 Chapter 5>>

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

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