Work Text:
Neil liked colors he had decided. He liked the way they swirled around the room, and the shadows they painted on Andrew's cheekbones. He liked the ways they blended into one another, an ever-evolving color spectrum bleeding from one blinding shade to the next. And, he liked how they tasted, like the bright blue drink he was sucking down right now. Neil liked colors.
“‘Drew.”
Andrew ignored Neil. He kept his eyes trained on the dancefloor, sweeping back and forth as he observed his people, making sure they were okay. After a second, his gaze returned to their table. Satisfied that he was done, Neil tried again, this time with more urgency
“‘Drewwww,” he let the name drag out, slurred just the slightest bit as Andrew finally turned his eyes on Neil. Neil decided that was another color he liked. The golden, green-ish, hazel-ish swirl contained within Andrew's iris. He thought to himself that he would happily drown in them if given the chance. What a way to die.
“Your eyes are so pretty.”
Neil watched his favorite color roll, going on its own personal rollercoaster as Andrew expressed his annoyance. Neil didn’t drink very much but with Andrew watching over him he’d decided tonight he would have fun.
“Is that why you said my name?” Neil frowned. Was it? He didn’t think so but he couldn’t remember. Until he looked at Andrew's eyes again. Colors!
“I’ve decided I like colors!” Neil smiled. He had something he liked! Something good in the world that was not Exy related and he was alive and he could tell Andrew about it! That was special.
“Colors?”
“Yes! And, I want a favorite one!”
If Nicky was here, or if Matt was here, or if Dan was here, or really any of the other foxes were here they would've gotten that sad-kicked puppy look on their faces. Well, maybe Aaron wouldn’t but he wasn't here to find out. But they'd look at him with their patented: oh sad, poor Neil expression. They'd look at him like he didn’t have a childhood without his murder-y dad and run-y mom AND, he’s never had a favorite color. How tragic. And ya know what? It was tragic. But Neil didn’t want it to cloud his judgment when choosing his favorite color. This was a BIG decision.
The swirling, bright lights and the drink in his hand made him feel slightly claustrophobic. How was he 19 years old and without a favorite color? He felt his eyes go wide with the realization. He could barely keep himself from getting offed by the second son of a stupid sports mafia. How the fuck was he supposed to choose only one color to be the best in the world? It was far too much pressure.
“ Neil .”
Neil jumped. Andrew must've been saying his name for a minute, he looked annoyed. He tended to look like that when Neil spaced out. And Neil suuuuure did feel spacey. When did that happen?
“You already have a favorite color.”
“I do?”
“Yes. It’s Orange.”
Neil frowned. He sure did like orange, but was it his favorite? He didn’t know.
“Is it really?” Andrew rolled his eyes again.
“Yes. You bought that blanket a couple of weeks ago just because it was orange right? They had every color. That's your favorite.”
Neil felt his eyes widen even further. He did buy that blanket because it was orange. It was the color that reminded him of the foxes and they were his favorite so it made sense. Andrew was such a genius. Neil was so lucky he knew him.
Neil decided to test that very luck and took a second just to stare at Andrew. He looked breathtaking in all of the colors, the lights of Eden's Twilight bathing him in ROYGBIV. His pale skin and blonde hair looked painted, a new Van Gogh splashed across his features with every passing moment. Neil wanted to kiss him.
He leaned forward. His body felt floppy with the weight of the liquor in his veins but Andrew didn’t push him away. If anything he looked, fond? Maybe? His mental Andrew translator got a little less accurate with every drink.
When Neil finally whispered “yes or no?” Andrew’s lips were blue. When Neil finally closed the distance between them and closed his eyes they were purple. When he leaned back and opened them again they were red.
In every color they were perfect. Their curve and plumpness built exactly to meld with Neil’s seamlessly.
Neil was drunk, he knew that. Andrew wouldn't let them go any further than that and Neil was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he felt so comfortable, so safe drinking with Andrew. He knew even as inebriated as he was Andrew would take care of him.
This was far from their first night in the club, no bouncers being slipped a crisp $100 to knock him clean out. No, soon Andrew would round up the rest of their pack and would slip his hand into Neils, guiding them back out to the car. Then he would pile everyone in, and drive them back to the house. To their home. Neil still couldn't believe he had one of those. But with Andrew promised at the heart of it he guessed he was stuck with one for the foreseeable future and Neil couldn't be happier about how it was all turning out.
“I can't believe you came and saved me.” Neil didn’t really mean to say that out loud but it was too late now. Plus, he meant every word.
“Save you?”
“From my life. You saved me ‘drew. You’re amaaazing.”
“That’s enough. Stay here.” Neil smiled as Andrew stood up.
He watched as Andrew floated through the crowd, slowly rounding up the rest of their crew. Eventually, with everyone in tow he started the trek home.
Just like Neil thought he would, Andrew slipped his hand in Neils and only dropped it so he could go around the car to sit in the driver's seat, but he quickly reclaimed it over the center console, their tangled fingers being used to shift and press radios buttons and adjust heat settings.
Once back at the house, Andrew watched over everyone, making sure they made it in the door before collapsing to their respective places. Kevin on the main couch and Nicky and Aaron in their respective bedrooms. Neil, he dragged up the stairs, shoving him into the bathroom to pee before leading him to the bedroom.
There, he left Neil with a simple instruction. “ Stay.”
Neil stayed. Rotating slightly to look at their wall. Pictures of the Foxes littering the space, an idea stolen from Dan’s labor of love in the Fox locker room. Andrew wouldn't admit it but Neil knew he liked the photos splashed across their space, his family all right there safe in full color to look at 24/7.
Neil was once again memorizing the placement of each image when Andrew returned to the room, finished with his turn in the bathroom. Neil smiled when Andrew walked over to him, stopping to take in the reverence with which he looked at the spread every time.
Andrew was now dressed in a pair of soft-looking gray joggers and a loose black t-shirt. Neil thought he looked wonderful. Gone were the tight painted-on-looking dark club going clothes which Neil had a healthy appreciation for but he thought he probably preferred Andrew like this. Soft. Comfortable. A version of the man no one else got to see.
After a second of staring on Andrew's part, Neil watched as Andrew turned back to the dresser. He pulled out another set of sweatpants and another sleep-ready shirt. With a sigh, he returned to Neil's side. Neil felt warm and heavy. The alcohol he'd consumed was still flowing happily around his system making his limbs feel like distant plants, attached but only barely. And his head was a rock on his neck, only capable of locking onto Andrew.
“Yes or no Neil?”
“Yes.”
Neil didn’t know what Andrew was referring to exactly but he wasn’t that surprised when he slowly and carefully replaced his clubbing outfit with the recently retrieved PJs.
Andrew helped steady Neil as he shimmied down the skinny jeans and guided the soft worn joggers over his legs one at a time. And he helped Neil pull the tight long sleeve over his head, throwing it vaguely in the direction of their hamper before tugging the soft t-shirt over Neil's head, guiding his arms into the right places.
With anyone else Neil would have felt like a child being dressed in soft PJs like he was incapable of taking care of himself. But this wasn't anyone else, this was Andrew, and Andrew he trusted wholeheartedly. Every brush against exposed skin was treated softly, with care, and comfort, and Neil couldn't bring it in himself to feel anything else but warmth. It helped that he knew the clothes were Andrews, the hem of his pants falling just slightly above his ankle and the shirt with the name Minyard faded, but still readable written across his heart where a pocket would go.
When Andrew seemed satisfied with Neil's new arrangement, he silently pulled him to bed. Two fingers circled around his wrist as if Neil would choose anywhere else in the world when he had Andrew Minayrd inviting him to lay down.
Once horizontal, Neil felt slightly spinny. The fluids in his body once again rediscovering which way was up, but he settled somewhat when Andrew joined him. A comforting weight pulling his body towards his own personal true north. He closed his eyes, content with the night and everything in him that had led to this moment, and heard as Andrew clicked the light off, their lamp going unlit, leaving them under the soothing cover of darkness.
Neil thought he could do this every day for the rest of his life and feel content with it. In his drunken haze, he figured he should tell Andrew this. Andrew was at least one-half of the equation after all.
“We can stay here. Spend every day here. I wouldn't mind.”
“Go to sleep Neil.”
“‘Kay.”
Neil felt the pull of sleep tugging at him. His mind floating away from reality to rest in his dreams but he had one last thought to share.
“Hope you're here when I wake up. You know my favorite color.” Neil felt a smile tug at his lips though his eyes remained closed. He thought he heard Andrew sigh but he couldn't be sure.
“I will be Neil. I’ll always be here when you wake up.”
“Thought you said no always.”
“ Go to sleep Neil.”
And he did. Neil fell easily into a full night of sleep. He’d feel terrible when he woke up, he knew that, but he was pretty sure he already saw Andrew set a glass of water and a bottle of pain reliever on the bedside table so he wasn’t too worried. Plus, Andrew would be there when he woke up. That was enough. That was perfect. That was a full-color promise he knew he could cash in on.