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Neil liked movie nights, it broke into his routine with an unexpected pleasantness and belonging he is beginning to experience more often than not these days. The Foxes squish into a room, Matt’s or the girls, never his, and, the majority of the time, they make it their mission to educate Neil on media he missed out on (though he always argues he never missed a lot).
Nicky is always on board, jumping at the opportunity to show Neil movies like Mean Girls , Legally Blonde and, strangely enough, Shrek . Kevin is irritated, usually mumbling about how this time could be spent differently, fingers itching for a racket before he dejectedly takes a seat anyways. Aaron is more quiet about his frustration but his snappiness is equipped with a harsher tone and he moves with discomfort in his seat. He is less restless when Katelyn joins. Andrew makes sure his annoyance is known when he sees Aaron wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Surprisingly though, most times, Andrew makes no complaints, at least not verbally. He sits, he snacks, and he watches, a silent observer in the usual chaos that surrounds him. With Neil pressed to his side at all times, he doesn’t tend to care what the conversation is occuring with the rest of the foxes, it is fleeting in and out as he takes it as an opportunity to watch them bicker and throw jabs and laugh. His face remains the same, the stoic, bored, unmoving features, no matter what's ahead of him in the tv glow or the conversation that bubbles around him.
Neil feels… content. He sits on the edge of the sofa pressed against the arm of it, his spot, with Andrew beside him as Matt sits by his knee, Dan sitting adjacent from him on a bean bag (Matt’s head tends to fall into her lap sooner rather than later) as Renee and Allison squeeze together on a one man seater as the rest flicker between seats. Kevin tends to sit on the other side of Andrew, glue to paper, and Nicky is drawn to his other cousin or the girls, depending on the movie.
Content: Neil is settled on that word when he thinks about nights like these, it’s a smooth middleground. He has little to no interest in the activity of watching films, but an avid enjoyer of his friends' company, it's a balance he is willing to put up with to watch Kevin’s annoyance arise when Matt makes a passing comment before Nicky doubles it down and Aaron rounds it off with a thorn of harshness that would wound anyone who wasn’t a Fox.
“You fuckers are so annoying,” Kevin hisses from beside Andrew, “I thought we are here to watch a movie, not to make dumbass comments about things you know nothing about.” His love life has become something of interest these past couple of weeks, now that Thea has been made known early this year… not everyone agrees with their relationship and some even questioned the friendships he had with others (Jean, Jeremy, the two of them). Kevin likes to avoid all said topics.
“We have time for both, no?” Allison pipes up, cheekily looking over her shoulder from her position by the tv cabinet, hands flicking through DVDs, “Unless your Highness has other duties to be attending to,”
“Yes, the court, for one.”
“I’m sure your precious throne room can withstand you not being in attendance for one night,” Nicky says, shoulder nudging Kevin’s legs that he is sitting beside.
“If anything, you should be there more often than me.” Kevin huffs and, instead of taking the insult, Nicky flicks up a gaze of mischief.
“If you said you wanted to see me sweaty and-”
“Nicky.” Andrew warns without looking at him. Nicky snaps his mouth shut and turns, then proceeds to busy himself with helping Allison and Renee with the DVDs.
He is seemingly getting better at listening to where the line is. Though it doesn't stop him from trying to prod it.
“Oh! Scream is such a good movie, it’ll get us in the Halloween mood!” Renee picks up the case and presents it to the semi circle of friends behind her. Halloween is around the corner, a week away, the dorm hallways and a couple of rooms already adorning the decor, the girls dorm especially so Neil doesn’t understand how much more of a mood they need to put in for it since fake cobwebs and spiders linger in the peripheral of his eyesight.
“Ugh, Mathew Lillard is so hot in this movie.” Allison adds. Neil groans inwardly, flopping his head over the sofa cushion behind him in exaggerated exasperation - somehow half of their conversations lead to this.
Nicky’s lips twitch in a smirk, “Mask on or off?”
“Oh, so on.”
“On.”
Dan hums, “I think I prefer the other guy.”
“Question still stands.”
Dan casts a grin at Matt, “On.”
“I’m so glad you guys agree, it’s so hot,” He flicks his gaze to Andrew, whose eyebrows draw together in a quick, silent glare before his gaze flicks to Neil, “Neil, mask on or off?”
“What?” He strains his neck to look up and back at Nicky.
“On or off?”
Neil looks to Andrew for help and Andrew just stares at him with the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. No help. “I have no idea what you mean, and I don’t care to understand.”
“Moron.” He hears Aaron mutter from somewhere to his right and Neil tosses him a middle finger, Matt laughing beside him.
They settle on Scream having come to the conclusion that watching hot actors and actresses will be entertaining (Neil is excluded from this feeling) and that they have also realised that they have never shown Neil a horror movie. He highly doubts anything that gets shown would even scratch the surface of the horrors he has seen firsthand but he sits and watches as the title screen rolls and everyone gets settled.
Half-way through the movie Neil realises that Nicky’s question was in relation to sex, which makes the question more confusing; masks? Hot? Staying on during the act?
He thinks about what masks meant to him, the anonymity of a person, what's underneath, who. As a runaway, it was a red flag, it was unnerving, something that would send his nerves set on fire, his legs beating with blood to run because no one who means good would want to hide their face from him. It’s stupid, he settles on, it’s stupid that they find it hot, stupid that they like it.
But what if it was something he doesn’t understand?
Something he doesn’t get when it comes to attraction and sex and everything that's under that umbrella because he is just simply… him?
His eyes flick to Andrew, silently watching him as the glow of the TV dances around his features as he wonders if Andrew felt anything on the topic. He knows Andrew experiences attraction in a capacity that's more… “normal” to how Neil experiences it, he wonders if he likes it. Or if he likes anything like that, something that's unique or something outside of their usual. He wonders if Andrew would ever tell him. If he would ever do that with Neil. Then Neil wonders if he would like to do any of that with him
He would for Andrew. He would do anything for Andrew.
“Staring.” Andrew quietly says, eyes still on the TV, as if he wasn’t speaking to Neil at all.
Neil blinks, realising he was, infact, staring, and then looks away, resting his head on his hand, breathing out a little sigh before resuming to watch the movie he didn’t care about. Ghostface, the killer, was on screen, chasing a girl with a knife in hand as she screams and scrambles and makes all the wrong decisions, which was more infuriating than anything. He stares at the masked killer, brows pulling together as he tries to piece together his confusion. By the time the two characters, Billy and Stu, reveal that they’re both the killer, he has given up and is settled on just finishing the movie and feeling annoyed that he agrees with Kevin;
he would much rather be on the court.
The credits roll and the conversation picks up around him as he stretches, back popping and neck clicking before he goes slack against the sofa, unconsciously leaning closer to the heat Andrew emits. He stays still for a moment or two, for Andrew to signal him away from the close contact if he wants the space and, when it doesn't come, he relaxes back into the cushions.
“So, Neil,” Nicky says, “Have you thought of your answer?”
“Yes, I think you guys are stupid.” He replies, bluntly.
Matt swats his knee, “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” His teeth glint up at him in a stretched smile as Neil playfully taps his foot against the other man's thigh in retort.
“Aw, what?” Nicky pouts, “So you’re saying if Andrew rocks up in a mask and asks you-”
“Nicky.” Aaron and Andrew hiss out at the same time, matching glares on the twin faces.
Nicky holds his hands up, imitating a zip over his lips before he winks at Neil then stretches too from his uncomfortable position on the floor and goes onto blab about something else but Neil has his gaze fixed back to Andrew.
If Andrew was under that mask, someone who he knows, someone who he wants, any danger of a stranger disappearing, it being replaced by the one and only person he wants and will ever want. If Andrew was watching him from beneath the expressionless thing, feeling his eyes bore into him without having an indication of what he was thinking, of what expression he wore. Maybe with Neil on his knees below Andrew, the mask staring down at him as Neil tries his best to get a reaction, the desperation, the need, the… the apprehension of it all.
Neil had to suppress a shiver.
Andrew with his face covered, giving little signs of what Neil is doing to him, almost disinterested, fills a heat in his stomach. Maybe not even a disinterest, maybe Andrew is manhandling him into any position he wants, against a wall, on the bed, over a desk, taking what he wants, feeding into the desire and need as Neil pleads for him to take it.
Neil couldn’t suppress the shiver this time.
He sees Andrew look at him, the bored expression he wears now adorns a frown as he stares back at Neil. “Staring,” He says, harsher, as he flicks his gaze to his body to almost question the shiver.
“Cold,” Neil explains, lies.
Andrew clicks his tongue, “Liar.” Because of course he sees right through it but all Neil does is grin at him.
Andrew's eyes don't leave him, staring at him back, silently, then he looks at Neil’s lips and they linger with intention before he stands, hands digging in his trouser pocket for the cigarette box there and Neil’s grin spreads wider as he follows suit.
“Oh c’mon guys!” Nicky whines behind them, “We still have time for one more movie!”
With an unlit cigarette already between his lips, Andrew flicks a middle finger towards his cousin as he reaches for the door.
“Leave the lovebirds be,” Allison teases and she’s greeted with the same message from Andrew and she laughs at it.
In the hallway, walking towards the stairwell for the roof, Neil jogs to catch up with Andrew’s haste, “ Lovebirds .”
“189.”
☆
It was a day later and Andrew notices Neil’s lingering glances and stares, happening more often than not. He can see Neil’s brain tinkering behind those dumb, bright, blue eyes of his; Andrew can almost see his thoughts twisting and turning, in wonder, a question, maybe questions, on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask, before he looks away, to the sheet of paper in front of him.
Then he looks again and Andrew begins to feel annoyed.
“Spit it out.”
The eyes blink owlishingly, blinking back to reality as they come back in focus, “What?”
Andrew glares from his seat on the bean bag, having to drop his head on his right shoulder to look at him from his comfy position, “You’ve been staring at me like some puppy since yesterday, what is it?”
He watches Neil look at Kevin, who has his headphones on, watching a Trojan game, deaf to their conversation, to the world around him in general, before he looks back to Andrew, “Is it illegal to look at you, now?”
“It is with that face.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
Andrew’s eyebrows deepen at the implication before he stands and walks towards the desk Neil sat at, “Don’t be stupid,” He says, before he also looks at Kevin, his back facing them, distracted, neither he or Neil in his eyesight so Andrew takes a hold of Neil’s chin and tips it up, “You want to say something,” He adds, “I can see it, so what is it?”
“It isn’t anything.”
“I thought we have gotten past the lying, Abram.”
“Maybe I just want to kiss you.” Neil says, quiet, soft.
“Despicable.” But Andrew’s thumb pulls at Neil’s bottom lip, leaning in, slow and then stops “But flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He stands up fully, hand falling away from Neil’s face.
“It usually does.”
“Does it?”
Neil gives him that look that he hates, eyelids half lidded, the iris’s swirling, filled with an emotion that he doesn’t want to label, lips tugged into a smirk as he stares up at him, as he drags his chair closer to Andrew’s space, “Yeah, I argue it does.”
Andrew tips his head in thought, “Is it about what Nicky was saying yesterday?”
Neil stiffened, smirk faltering a little as heat rises to his cheeks, “No. Don’t even remember what he was saying about the masks.”
Andrew hums now, short and bored, “I didn’t say anything about masks.”
Neil turns from Andrew, picking up his pen, “I have homework to finish.”
Ah , Andrew thinks, Interesting.
“For someone who lied for his entire life, you really are shit at it.”
“I’m good enough for it to keep me alive.”
Andrew hums again, “Not good enough to do it to me, though.”
Neil looks towards the textbook to his left and sighs, “How unfortunate.”
Andrew, getting the sign that Neil doesn’t want to talk more about it, he steps away and sits back in his beanbag and closes his eyes.
☆
The next day Neil is in a Spirit Halloween.
He trails behind the group; it being lead by predominantly Nicky who dragged them from aisle to aisle, then Aaron who searches for both his and Katelyn’s outfit, then Kevin who is questioning the need for a costume at all, followed by Neil whose disinterest was more than evident as he stuff his hands in a 03 Foxes jumper and then Andrew followed behind, bored and ignoring Nicky’s over-excitement of the holiday.
“You're such a Debby-Downer, Kevin.” Nicky whines, “It’s Halloween! It’s a fun holiday! You can dress up, have parties, get drunk.”
Kevin huffs as he fiddles with a skull on a shelf, “It was never meant to be for parties or even dressing up, the holiday had a cultural influence by a Celtic harvest festival-”
“Oh, perfect, your Halloween outfit is sorted, you can go as a nerd.” Neil comments boredly, as he picks up a fake spider by its leg, dangling it.
“Better than the fucking arsehole you’re going as.”
“Oh, no, that’s just everyday-Neil.” Aaron says, glare already settled between his brow as soon as Neil started to talk.
Neil’s head snaps to Aaron, “You’re one to talk. More shit comes out of your mouth than it does anywhere else.”
“You’re the loud mouth, can’t-shut-the-fuck-up-if-he-knows-what’s-good-for-him piece of sh-” Kevin begins.
“Oh, go fuck yourself-”
“Ladies!” Nicky yells over them, stepping between them and pushing their chests apart, “There is no way you are making a scene in Spirit Halloween, one of my few happy places,” He sighs, “We’ll split up, Aaron with me and Kevin, Andrew take Neil away.”
“ Take me away?”
“You’re the little troublemaker, so, yes.” Nicky says, teasing but also a little bit of truth.
“I’m going by myself.” Aaron mutters as he turns away from the group.
“Okay! Back at the checkout in 30 minutes!” Nicky says, watching Neil get dragged by the elbow by Andrew, “If you don't have a costume, I’ll buy you one and you’ll HAVE to wear it!” The implication alone was enough to deter anyone.
Though Andrew never complies with the demands of Nicky, he was not willing to trail behind and babysit a bunch of adults who can’t shut up in a public space and uses the idea of splitting up to be alone with Neil, hand gripping the stupidly bright hoodie he wears and whisks him away as he complains under his breath about Andrew’s brother and then about Andrew’s other annoyance. Andrew was quiet and didn't say anything about the arguing as they walked through an aisle filled with more costumes. Neil’s complaining quietens to seething beside him for the first few minutes of their departure from the group but, like always, Andrew’s presence dissipates the tension in his shoulder and his jaw to a point he mindlessly runs his eyes along his options. Grim-reaper, vampire, nurse, ghost buster. Maybe he should just let Nicky choose for him because this shit is boring.
“You should wear this,” Andrew’s deep voice arises from beside him. He tips a set of an animal-themed costume packet towards him from the shelf hook: it held rabbit ears, a nose with whiskers, and a small fluffy ball for a tail. Andrew wore his amused face, the one he has when he made a joke, not much different from his usual one but it was more relaxed around his eyes and lips twitched every slightly up on one side of his face.
“A bunny?” Neil observed the woman on the front, clad in a tight black latex outfit and fishnets, legs, upper torso and arms naked.
“A rabbit.” Andrew corrects, “Skittish, fast, runs away at the sight of danger. Ring any bells?”
Neil hums, pretending to think, “One or two.” Then he grins. Andrew hums in response before he lets it go and looks around, “Do you know what you want to get?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” Neil says, surprised, “What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
More jealous that Andrew has it figured out already rather than questioning why Andrew is keeping it to himself, he sighs, “Maybe I’ll go as a dead exy player.”
“You’d rather turn yourself into the Moriyamas than ruin your jersey’s for Halloween , junkie.”
“You’re right, I think they’ve seen enough fake blood as it is.” Nathaniel’s birthday last year is a distant memory now.
They spent the next twenty minutes loitering before they made their way back to the counter, Neil deciding that Nicky will be more than happy to pick something out for him and Neil has got to the point of not caring anymore, he doesn’t care for Halloween, or costumes, or parties. The store pissed him off, for some reason, with the lights being too bright, people were too loud, but maybe that was because he was already in a bad mood to begin with and everything was just getting to him. Neil arrives at the checkout, Nicky, Aaron and Kevin already there with bags and receipts. Nicky looks around him, “Where’s Andrew?” Then he looks to Neil’s hands, “Where’s your costume?”
“He said he was looking in the candy section, something about cheap and bulk packets,” He shrugs, “Couldn’t find a costume.”
“Does this mean I can pick one out for you?!” Nicky’s face lit up, cogs turning in his head as ideas sprung in abundance. Neil can almost see them flicker in his eyes.
“No.” Andrew appeared with two packets of costumes in his hand, “I’ve got ours.” Then leaves to pay, not letting Neil see either of the costumes. When Andrew returned with the bag, Neil flicked a questioning gaze but all Andrew did was fling the bag over his shoulder and dig his car keys out of his pocket with the words “Leaving.” Before he turns and walks out.
The group obediently follows behind.
☆
The smoke exhales from his lips when he says “You can tell me, you know,” He taps his cigarette and the ash falls to the roof floor beneath them, “What’s been on your mind.”
Neil had a leg tucked up to his chest, his head crooked and laid on his knee, head facing Andrew, watching him smoke - the wind was calm and surprisingly not as cold as it had been the previous nights, though goosebumps prickle his skin and Neil can’t tell if it was his body’s reaction to his thin layers or to just Andrew’s proximity. “I know.” And he does.
Andrew’s eyes flick over him, assessing, “Are you wanting to try something new?” And the implication was clear enough for Neil this time.
Neil shrugs one shoulder, “I’m happy with what we already do.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Are you wanting to try something new?”
Andrew frowned at the deflection, “Are you deflecting because you’re embarrassed or you trying to protect me because you think I can’t handle fetishes?” He spits out the last part like it was poison.
Neil’s turn to frown, “Why would I think that?”
“So you’re embarrassed?”
Neil thinks about how hard he got in the shower this morning as he thought about Andrew, faceless, masked, running his hands over Neil’s chest, feeling the bumps and scars to his waistline, taking his cock in his hand, at the base as he whispers dirty talk in his ear. Not wanting to jerk off, at least not alone with his own hand (also to not be late for practice), Neil of the past switched the boiling water to freezing cold to get rid of his bodily reactions. Neil, in the present, swallows, heat in his cheeks as he nods, “Yeah, I am, I think.” Embarrassment wasn’t something he feels, not regularly at least, but he feels something that could come under that category, an apprehension of judgement perhaps. But he should know better with Andrew.
The cigarette was half way up to Andrew’s lips when he paused and flicked an eyebrow up at Neil. He drinks him in, sitting half an arms length away in Andrew’s jumper, scarred cheeks red, his gaze, that is usually trained on Andrew, is turned to watch the streetlights and cars below as he shifts. Andrew flicks the cigarette from his fingers and lets it fall the height from the roof to the ground as his hand grabs Neil by the cheeks, squishing them and pulling him closer, making him look at him, “Why?”
“ ‘Cause ‘s dumb.”
“Being into something isn’t dumb .”
Neil shrugged again, “ ‘m not sure ‘ow everyfing works.” Andrew lets go so he can talk but he keeps their proximity, “I mean, I didn’t think I was into anything, anyone, I have no experience when it comes to-” He gestures, vaguely, because he doesn’t know how to describe them, what they do, “But with you, it’s different. I think with you, I’d do anything, everything seems appealing when I know you’re doing it with me, to me.”
Andrew is silent for a couple of moments, and then he says with a frown, “I hate you.”
“I know.”
“More than anything.”
“I know.”
He is silent again and Neil nudges his head against Andrew's, making him tip his head back to get to the crevice of his throat, “Yes or no?” He whispers and the warm breath heats the goosebumps littering there.
“You and your stupid neck fetish,” Andrew murmurs out, “Yes,” He adds and Neil’s lips are there in the next moment, “Shoulders and up.” Then a hand is in the back of his head, fingers carding through the blonde locks with a gentleness that (Andrew would never admit) lulls him into a calm that feels sleepy, If it wasn’t for Neil’s small noises and teeth and tongue allowing a distracting arousal spiral in his gut, Andrew can imagine he could fall asleep like this. But, Neil sucks, licks, kisses his way across his throat, mapping out the bare canvas in front of him. Andrew copies the others hand placement and grips the back of Neil’s hair, the hair curling and thick through his fingers.
“Was it that mask thing? Was that the thing you were thinking about?” He questions, despite already knowing the answer. He can feel Neil’s lips pause before he licks a strip up his jugular and nip at Andrew's jaw. Andrew grunted, curling his fingers tighter at the mass of curls and then he yanked Neil’s head out of the safety of Andrew. Then his face is like that again, eyes half lidded, his bright eyes piercing the dark and air around them, filled with something he can label this time, desire. His lips are red and swollen and spit covered, agape in a surprise moan at the sudden stinging sensation that felt so good. The sound makes Andrew’s cock throb but he keeps his face slack and bored, “I asked you a question, Rabbit. Answer it.”
“Yes.” It was a whisper, soft. Rabbit . He hates how a stupid joke turning into a stupid nickname can make his skin tingle and stomach burn.
Andrew hums, keeping Neil’s neck bent at an awkward angle, “I didn’t think that would be your style, with your history and all.”
“It wasn't, didn’t get it, but thought of you.”
“Thought of me?” Neil hums in confirmation, “Doing what?”
“Anything you want. I’ll take anything you give me.”
He can see how Neil is hard through his jeans and his breathing a little laboured, “I haven't even touched you,” Andrew says, “And you’re like this.”
“It’s what you do to me.”
“I hate you.” He repeats.
“I know.”
“Yes or no, Rabbit?”
“Yes.” Andrew surges forward and their teeth clink.
☆
When he returned from the library, the packet of his costume sat on his bed. Count Dracula, the title of it read and Neil’s face scrunched up as he looked at the man on the front, adorning the outfit inside: a white ruffled shirt, a red and black cape and plain black pants. Nothing unusual, he supposes, but the man's hair was styled to be frantic, standing in every direction, evoking a crazy, that only an immortal can portray, with pale white face paint, black panda-like paint circling his eyes as his mouth was agape in a hiss to show the fangs in his mouth, blood dripping from the corners of his lips. The outfit was enough, Neil wasn’t that into Halloween. But then he thought about Andrew and him buying it for Neil, was Andrew that into it?
Neil picks it up for closer inspection and deduces that no, Andrew probably isn’t that into it.
The dorm was empty, which was surprising but not unwelcome. With the party happening at 6PM, in an hour or so, he’s thankful for some alone time before the night full of socialising. He decides to take his time showering whilst simultaneously ignoring Nicky’s text to come join him and the girls getting ready and decides to text Andrew instead.
NEIL
im going to shower
He types with one hand holding the phone as the other undresses him, the water heating up as he waits for a response.
ANDREW
Do you want an award?
NEIL
maybe some company would be better?
It takes until Neil stands naked on the bath mat for Andrew to reply.
ANDREW
Busy.
Busy?
NEIL
with what
Neil stares at his phone for two full minutes before he realises Andrew isn’t going to reply so he just snaps the phone shut and drops it on the pile of clothes on the floor and steps into the shower.
☆
He’s dressed, the outfit surprisingly comfortable. The shirt was loose around his torso, but not loose enough to make him look misshapen, it was the perfect kind of loose, where it doesn’t stick to awkward places if he sweats and almost flows around him. The material was soft and it shaped his waist as he tucked the ends into his pants. The pants were nothing special, plain and black, looking good in the right places, or at least he hopes. He ties the cape loosely around his neck letting it settle over his shoulders before he follows the instructions with the fangs (something that seemingly was bought separately from the outfit that Neil must have missed upon his initial observation of Andrew’s purchases). He has to look in the mirror to place them in, shaping them to his teeth and he avoids looking at his face in general and focuses on his mouth, teeth and lips solely. They feel strange in his mouth, tongue running over them, prodding at the new intrusion but it was a feeling he would get used to. He leaves the bathroom without a glance at anything else.
5:37PM his phone says as he checks his messages. With no message from Andrew, he discovers texts from Matt.
MATT
Having some pre-drinks at my dorm, I know you don’t drink but you are more than welcome to come on over
Then a follow up text:
MATT
You don’t have to drink, btw. Obviously.
A pause.
MATT
I would just appreciate your presence.
MATT
Not saying you have to come though, don’t feel obliged, if you’re with Andrew, I get it dude
Neil snorts, shaking his head.
NEIL
omw
He pockets his phone and leaves to go down the hall. He doesn't knock when he enters, mainly because the door was ajar anyways and he sees Matt’s head snap to him. “Neil!” He yells as a greeting, arms outstretched for a hug and Neil finds it easy to accept as he wraps an arm around him in return. Matt was dressed as a clown, matching with Dan who wore a similar outfit. Behind him, Renee was a cat, Allison a pirate, Nicky as a devil and Kevin as a ghostbuster. Aaron and Andrew were missing, though he suspects Aaron was at Katelyns which makes Andrew’s missing presence feel heavier. “You look great!” Matt says, pulling him from his thoughts before they get too much, “A vampire, hell yeah!”
“Andrew bought me it.” Neil says. Matt grins a little wider.
“Always knew that Monster had taste.” He winks but the name left a sour taste in Neil’s mouth. He moves on when the others greet him, each complimenting his outfit and he politely thanks each one (ignoring anything inappropriate that tumbles out of Nicky’s, already tipsy, mouth). He spots Kevin sitting alone in his outfit that's too short for his long legs, his ankles and orange socks exposed. It was a low effort and lazy costume, just a brown jumpsuit and how dumb it looks on Kevin’s too tall of body almost makes him laugh.
Kevin remains quiet when he sees Neil, already nursing a drink. He flicks a quick up and down at Neil over his drink he has to his lips as he approaches, quirking an eyebrow, a silent question as Neil stands above him and stares. He doesn’t know why of all the people in this room he flocked to the least sociable, most annoying creature of them all. Maybe because he’s fun to tease and Neil likes practicing his attitude problem.
“Turned down my idea, I see.”
Kevin hums as he swallows, “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
Neil shrugs, “It is what it is.” Then makes himself room beside Kevin on the small couch, “Taking advantage of the free booze already? I would say I’m surprised but-”
“Where’s your guard dog?” Kevin questions instead, annoyed as he shifts into a comfier position.
“Not my guard dog,” Neil huffs, “Somewhere.” He answers.
“Lover's quarrel?”
Neil frowned at him.
“Trouble in paradise?” Kevin presses.
“ One phone call to Jean and we can really unpack trouble in paradise .” Neil says in french.
“Shut your mouth.”
Neil grins, fangs glinting in the low light, “Thought so.”
In the meantime, Nicky places a CD in the speaker and dances with a drink in his hand with Allison at his side.
“This is going to be a long night.” Kevin mutters beside him, swallowing another mouthful of his drink. Neil hums in agreement. It was strange, parties, he thinks he should be somewhat used to them, as he spends (nearly) every weekend in Columbia in a club that pumps music, alcohol and drugs. Though not a participant, he is still surrounded with bodies and noise and drunkards, but with the rest of the Foxes, it feels different. Maybe it’s because there's a different expectation with the others, more of a social pressure to make it look like he is having fun or be involved, rather than them letting him sit with Andrew all night. The Foxes make an attempt to not make him feel ‘left out’, the effort is appreciated, but unneeded. The company tires him out in this social setting. Neil sighs and lowering himself in his seat. Despite it being a few hours since seeing him, he misses him.
Kevin glances at him from the corner of his eye, maybe sensing, or even seeing, his draining mood and starts to talk about a topic that will, always, lighten the mood, Exy. The distraction was welcome, as they dived into the discussion of games, of practice, of new possible drills. They were lost in it until Allison approached, Nicky and Renee behind her.
“Say, Neil,” She says, trying to act nonchalantly, “How do you feel about wearing eyeliner?”
☆
They were ten minutes late to their own party but people already filled the basement. Neil could hear the music from the stairwell and it had to take every bone in his body to not turn around and run to the roof, where he would await Andrew’s presence and his lips.
They were mainly late because Allison lined his eyes with black and then took it upon her to style his hair so its slick back with strands falling in front of his face, pieces of hair framing his face before adding some finishing touches of fake blood dripping from his lips. “Wow, I truly do amaze myself sometimes.” She said, leaning back to take in her work.
Nicky appeared over her shoulder, “If Andrew doesn't take you away tonight then I for sure am.”
Ignoring his comment, Neil looks at himself in the handheld mirror Allison holds up and he just looks like… well, him, he doesn’t see what they mean. He just looks like Neil with Nathaniel’s eyes, now lined and emphasised, with scars aggressively prominent across his face. He looks away, to Allison and thanks her anyway. It’s just one night.
Neil forgets how warm the basement can get and he is immediately swarmed with the scent of B.O and the sticky heat of bodies. He doesn’t stray from Kevin, who stands at a wall, sipping at a drink that he refilled on the way. Neil takes the time to scan the crowd for a familiar face. Though not the one he was looking for, he does spot a matching one, an arm wrapped around a girl as he converses with the group of cheerleaders. Aaron and Katelyn stand on the other side of the basement, wearing gender-bend Chucky and Tiffany outfits (Chucky being Katelyn with her auburn hair and Aaron being Tiffany with his pale blonde) but Neil’s eyes quickly move on to the rest of the crowd and spots nothing.
He’s distracted when he talks to Kevin, muttering in low French about nothing interesting and he’s even more distracted when the hallway light appears and then disappears, the familiar slam of the door capturing his attention and lo and behold, a five-foot-even man stepping through and Neil only knows one (he supposes technically two but logistics doesn't matter right now) man who that could be. Neil straightens up against the wall as he watches the back of the man's head look right before he faces Neil’s direction and- oh fuck him.
Andrew’s face is not Andrew’s face but instead a pale white, elongated scream with deep black eyes, nose and mouth. Andrew is wearing the Scream mask. He is dressed as Ghostface. Neil is in between two emotions of disbelief and amusement as Andrew heads his way.
“The fuck is he?” Kevin says behind him, “Is he that killer from that dumb movie we watched the other week?”
Neil laughs this time, if that's what you can call it, an exhale, maybe, a guffaw “Yeah, I think he is,” Andrew easily winded around the bodies, “I guess he must have been inspired.”
Instead of wearing what Ghostface usually wears, with the long gown attire, Andrew is dressed in a black jumper, the hood over his head with black cargo pants with long straps coming from his hips and Neil doesn't miss the plastic glint of a fake knife in his hand as he nears. Holy shit, he thinks, holy shit.
He stops directly in front of Neil, ignoring Kevin entirely as he stares through the thin material of the mask, though Neil can’t see into it, can’t see his eyes, what they’re saying.
“You’ve got a staring problem,” Neil utters out, gently taking the chin of the mask and tips it up over Andrew’s head so he can see his face, “ Is this what you’ve been planning ?” He asks in Russian.
Andrew’s eyes bounced around Neil’s face, drinking in his appearance, his eyes followed Neil’s waterline and how its been drawn on, eyes counted the fallen strands of hair on his face, eyes fixated on his mouth as he spoke, watching the fangs poke out, “ Maybe ,” He replies. Andrew’s fingers itched for him to be between them, around them, “ Just had to get the confession out of you first .”
Kevin rolls his eyes, knowing when he should leave by this point and does exactly that, he leaves to go find Matt and neither of them watch, eyes trained on each other. “Why a vampire?” Neil asks, in English.
“Because of your neck fetish,” Andrew crowds Neil in a little more, “Thought it was fitting.”
“Not because you like it?”
“Wouldn’t go that far.”
Neil grins and he watches Andrew’s eyes flick to his mouth, to his teeth once again, “Do you like it now that I’m wearing it?”
Instead of answering, Andrew just stares. It was like their second language (or their third or fourth by this point, but he digresses), eyes boring holes, alighting fires wherever they look. It’s like Neil can feel a presence along his skin when Andrew tips his head to the side and assesses him again, not getting enough, wanting more, needing it. Looking at Neil isn’t enough, it never is, not for long, when his eyes are so bright and doe, with his face perfect and soft and compelling. He hates how Neil draws him in like this, Neil is just standing there, looking pretty in a room full of people thinking the same thing but Andrew is the one he has eyes on, the one he swings for. How idiotic he must be to choose someone like him.
The silence stretches but neither of them mind, Neil likes looking at Andrew’s face, he likes looking at it under different lights, placed in different environments. The basement was dark like Eden’s, strobe lights flitting over his features every so often, emphasising the shadows from his nose, darkening his eyes, cutting his cheeks, but instead of reds, whites and blues of Eden’s, the basement lights had different shades of purples and indigos and they softened Andrew’s face, his eyes. It’s a shame it dims the gold of his eyes, the very faint freckles across his nose, the shimmer of his hair; Neil thinks that’s probably why looking at Andrew under the sun was his favourite.
Andrew shifts as he brings the fake knife to Neil’s sternum, tapping it against the bone underneath the ruffled shirt, “ How’s it making you feel ?” Russian because there’s a safety net in the language they learned together, “ The outfit, the mask ?” Which Neil understood as an alternate version of their Yes or No. Is this okay, to be wearing this?
Neil hums, gently taking the chin of the mask and pulls it back down. The fake knife (Neil was surprised he just didn’t use the many real ones he has) was still at his chest as Neil looked at him. Tingles flitted up his arms and up his back, goosebumps trailing in its wake now that he realises that the fantasies of the past week or so are now standing right in front of him. Andrew stroking his cock to Neil, Andrew jerking him off, Neil on his knees, Andrew’s cock fucking his throat as he stares down at him, pulling at his hair, groaning, them fully clothed as they rut desperately against each other, Andrew groping and taking whatever he needs, whatever he wants as Neil begs for it all while wearing that stupid mask. Shit . The darkness of the room dims the redness of his face but the silence from him speaks for itself.
“C’mon, bunny,” Andrew whispers, coming in closer, “Tell me.”
Bunny . Nicknames, pet-names, terms of endearment have never extended outside of Andrew’s junkie or Abram or the occasional Idiot and the new names of Rabbit and now Bunny fill a special excitement in Neil’s bones that only Andrew can provide. Bunny, Rabbit, both are obvious digs at Neil, his behaviour but it’s the way Andrew says it, why he says it. His legs felt like jelly and he grabbed at the wall, hands curling into fists, “Andrew,” It’s more than okay .
“ You look… ” He lets the words hang in the air, swallowing them down even though he so desperately wants to express how stupidly good the man in front of him looks, but Andrew is still weak. Instead, his hand hovers over Neil’s hip, aware of their environment, though the environment cares very little for their moment beside a wall, “ Bet you taste better though.”
Mild dirty talk has been a thing they’ve been testing, dipping their toes into, testing boundaries, how the boundaries are treating it. Whispers of dirty promises, texts that Neil has to double check that no one is looking over his shoulder, lingering stares, secret kisses. It was fun, Neil realised, doing these things with Andrew, something he never would expect to ever be fun but things change, a lot of things do. If you were to tell Neil a little over a year ago that Andrew’s hand is now pressed on his hip, thumb stroking the places he kisses as he talks about tasting Neil, calling him Rabbit or Bunny because of a dumb Halloween costume joke made at Spirit Halloween with now the addition of Andrew wearing a Halloween mask because Neil has also recently realised that maybe on top of his neck fetish, he might have a mask one too, there would be no way past Neil would believe it. Even present Neil is having a hard time wrapping his mind around it.
“ Want to taste you, though,” Neil keeps his hands to himself but he lowers his face so it’s closer to the mask, “ Been too long since I’ve last had you in my throat. ” He has only done it twice for Andrew, a large step in their progress happened at the end of their recent summer. Neil was clumsy, awkward but he was careful, gentle as he took things at a pace Andrew was comfortable with, making sure Andrew kept his eyes on him and only him as he took him into his mouth. Andrew couldn't cum the first time, which Neil didn’t care for, the trust was big enough and the effort was there, not that it ever mattered, as long as Andrew is having a good time. The second time Andrew jerked himself off towards the end and came in Neil’s mouth for the first time, cock hovering over his tongue. “You can spit it out,” Andrew said, watching Neil’s face twist at the taste, “Just because I don’t, doesn’t mean you have to.” But Neil closed his mouth and swallowed anyway. He watches Andrew glare, stepping away from their space, but Neil stares up at him and says “I wanted to. I wouldn't do something if I didn’t want to do it. Not with you. Not with this, Andrew.” They haven’t done it again since then, Andrew unconvinced that Neil did it on his own accord and thought that Neil thinks he needed to repay the amount of times Andrew did it for him. It took conversations and listening and promises that will never be broken before Andrew understood. Neil warded off the subject and the act, not bringing it up unless it was from Andrew’s mouth, but something about the music, their proximity and that mask compelled Neil to spill his guts.
Andrew’s silence was one of contemplation, looking at the sincerity in Neil’s face, his voice, making sure Neil understood what he was asking. Neil misunderstands the silence and he quickly adds, “We don’t have to, I’m good with whatever you want to do.” Neil nods along to his own words, “We can do nothing.”
“How long have you been thinking about it?” Andrew asks instead, because his curiosity gnaws at him.
Neil blinks at him, “Since we last did it.” Two months. Give or take.
Andrew assesses him again, then himself. He takes longer on the latter, checking each and every inner and outer workings of himself, his headspace, and when nothing came up apart the deep stir of arousal bubbling in his gut, he pulls Neil’s hip so it presses against his own, “We’ll go upstairs and I kiss that pretty mouth of yours as we get each other off and, when I’m close, I’ll get you on those knees and cum in your mouth,” He squeeze Neil’s hip, “Yes or no?”
A desperate “Yes,” spills from Neil’s mouth.
Then Andrew steps away and it was like everything else came back into focus, the music got loud, the heat stuck to him, the noise of shouting conversations between one drunk person to the next vibrated his skull, but Andrew tipped his masked head towards the door and Neil trailed behind him like a puppy. Maybe he heard his name be shouted over the thrumming music, maybe Andrew’s too, but Neil’s eyes traced Andrew’s shoulders, the width, his arms, his waist and then he was walking up the stairs, two, three floors of stairs. Then a door, a hallway, then room 317. Neil almost stumbles into Andrew as he halts, hands whipping out the keys from his hoodie and opening the door in more of a hurry than Andrew will ever admit.
Neil barely steps into the threshold of the dorm before the door is closed and he is pressed against it. It knocks a little breath out of him but the thrill and adrenaline is in his bones was enough to have him out of breath anyways. Andrew crowds him, more pressing than he was in the basement, now that others' eyes don’t drift to them. “Yes or no?” He asks again.
“Yes.”
Andrew flicks the mask up, high enough for his lips and nose to be free but low enough for the silky material extending from the white plastic to shadow his eyes and he kisses Neil with every need he has. It’s tongue and teeth at war, the soft of the muscle, wet and needy, curl around each other in a dance that they’re versed in. It’s always when they kiss that Neil makes that noise at the back of his throat, like he has been waiting for this for so long, a struggled moan, a noise of pleasure, of relief, as he loses himself in the way Andrew licks into him, feeling the way he flicks over the artificial fangs in his mouth. He presses his face harder into Neil, like he was wanting to eat him, as he pulls Neil in by his shirt, like they could mold together and become symbiotic if they get closer. “Touch me,” Andrew says, “Waist and up.” And it was the permission Neil needed to get his hands on Andrew, pulling him in with the same force that he almost believed that they were in fact one body afterall.
Andrew slid a thigh between Neil’s legs and Neil sighed into his mouth as the flesh pressed against his hardening cock. Then Andrew moves it, purposely brushing against it with force, “Yes or no?”
“Yes, yes,” Neil pants.
“Your shirt?”
Neil doesn’t respond verbally but jerks his head away, hands flying from Andrew to the stupid shirt he wears and pulls at it to come undone. He was clumsy in his desperation and Andrew was impatient so without much thought of the material, Andrew took a hold of it and pulled, buttons popping as it came away, ruined before he pulled a simple string for the flimsy cape to bundle at their feet. Andrew flings the shirt in his hand, not wasting time as his hands cradle Neil’s abdomen, his sides, his chest, kissing and nippings his lips as his hands mapped out the areas he knew all too well, exploring paths and ridges of scars that his palms crave to feel under them. Then they went to his back, over his shoulder blades, pressing fingertips to his spine, slipping down and into the divots of his lower back dimples, a perfect grip to guide Neil’s hips against his, rocking against one anothers. He shifted the leg that was between Neil’s thigh so their hips slotted together perfectly, and Neil moaned as he felt Andrew’s dick throb against his.
They create a rhythm together, mouths finding each others again, like magnets, paper to glue, their own gravitational pull, and it’s all clumsy and desperate but it makes absolute sense as heat creates sweat on their skin, it beads on Neil’s brow and temple. One of Andrew’s hands comes up and wipes it away before it travels to the back of Neil’s head, making a noise of annoyance as he finds that the thick curls have been tamed with solid gel. He holds his hand there anyways and presses him closer, cradling his head, following the small movements Neil makes to keep up with their mouths.
The heat is the least of their worries, not with how their hips are stuttering against each other, following the dance their tongues make. The solidness of their hips and their rocking creates a friction that makes any thought in Neil’s head turn dumb and liquid, only the persistent pulse of Andrew making any real sense at all. The layers of their clothes, the thin separation of them would be something Neil wants rid of but feeling Andrew roll his hips back in tandem and how his hands guide Neil’s hips against his, taking the pleasure, thriving in it, makes him lose any sense of annoyance and inflicts more arousal at the rustle of them thrusting together as it becomes background noise of Neil’s moans.
Neil can feel the pre-cum leak from his tip, soaking the thin layers of his boxers to the cheap pants, “Andrew,” he whispers, in a half warning. Andrew makes a noise of acknowledgment, feeling Neil’s stickiness at the front of his own pants.
Neil moans into his mouth, gripping onto Andrew’s biceps, the thing he has been using as support and leverage. He still holds on when Andrew’s lips leave his, tipping the mask further back as he watches where their bodies connect, seeing Neil’s clothed cock fuck against his own before he thrusts twice and stops and moans, the noise catching in his throat as cum seeps through the material in spurts. Andrew tends to enjoy watching Neil’s face, his expression but he also likes the show of his body too. Through the thin layers, he can see Neil’s cock twitch in over-sensitivity as the cum leaks and pushes through the material. Andrew surprises himself when he has to suppress the urge to get on his knees and lick it.
Neil leans on the door, panting, looking at Andrew like that again, through his eyelashes and half lidded eyes, looking pretty and innocent like he isn’t letting cum cool in his pants as he came in them like a teenager. He flicks a gaze to Andrew’s hardness in his joggers in question and the mental check was quicker this time. He flings the mask away, somewhere in the dorm, he doesn’t care because he kisses Neil again.
The haziness of his orgasm flitters out as his hands find Andrew’s hair. “Sofa,” Andrew mutters against his lips and they don’t part as they travel to their destination, tongue never tongue, hands never leaving their body. When the sofa hits the back of Andrew's knees, only then do they part as Andrew sits back, parting his legs, a silent invitation for Neil.
“Yes or no?” Neil asks this time.
“Yes until it becomes a no.”
Neil leans down and kisses Andrew's face, the arch of his eyebrow, the wrinkle of his frown, the freckles of his cheek, the cupid's bow of his lip, and then his actual lips, a press of reassurance before he drops to knees. “My hands?” Neil questions, fingers in his mouth as he pries the fang molds from his teeth. They pop off without much effort and he bundles them on the coffee table behind him.
“You can touch my dick,” Andrew says, “Nowhere else below the waist.” He explains through the movement of lifting his hips, pulling his pants down to mid-thigh, letting his cock spring up to his abdomen. Andrew frowns at the noise Neil makes, flicking him on the forehead but Neil grins up at him and Andrew settles back down against the cushions.
Neil takes Andrew’s dick in hand, remembering Andrew’s advice from last time, a firm grip, no feather touches, and strokes it from base to tip, cock leaking already. His mouth waters for it and he doesn’t deprive himself much longer as he settles his lips around the sensitive head and curls his tongue around it. He made sure he watched Andrew, watching the tenseness of his shoulder, of his jaw, but Andrew was watching him, moving a hand to settle on top of his head, not pushing, just… touching, feeling, grounding. Neil removes himself with a pop, turning his head to kiss the heel of Andrew’s palm before he moves to kiss the head of his dick. He makes a trail of his lips down the curve of Andrew, making sure to press, so he can feel, and, when he reaches the base, he licks his way back up, tongue feeling the bumps of veins and enjoying the heaviness it has against him. Andrew hisses and the sound alarms Neil enough to jolt back and look up but all Andrew says is “Menace.” And strokes a thumb over the scar on Neil’s cheek, the one that burned away the tattoo, as any panic dimishes and Neil settles into a pace.
He takes Andrew’s advice once again and focuses on the tip of his cock, the most sensitive part, and bobs his head, sucking and swirling his tongue as his hand jerks off the part his mouth can’t yet reach. It was something he loses himself with, the rhythm of it, the feeling of Andrew in his mouth, against his tongue, intimate in a way that felt raw. His eyes assess Andrew again but nothing strikes him as wrong, infact, Andrew’s mouth was slack as he breathes, not quite moaning but not quite silent as his eyes track everything Neil does. Fuck, it alights something deep inside Neil, seeing these golden orbs watch him do something like this, seeing Andrew enjoy it, seeing Andrew feel pleasure, Andrew letting himself feel it. “I’m close,” Andrew says, as quiet as Neil did when he warned him earlier, clearly still somewhere on the edge from their early activities.
Neil hums around him, acknowledging, and the vibration made the thighs beside his head twitch. “Cum in my mouth, yes or no?” Neil asks, hand replacing his mouth when he speaks, keeping pace.
“That mouth of yours, junkie,” Andrew replies, referring to his words, “Yes.”
The warmth around his dick returns, it’s a warmth he wants to fuck into, what he fantasises about but not yet, not now, so he lets Neil moan around him as he sucks him back in, using his spit as lube as it dribbled down him, his fist at the base catching it as it tightens around him. His breathing became increasingly more laboured before it catches, stuttering as he cums, Neil ceasing his movements when he feels it fill his mouth. The taste is still bitter but he knew what he was expecting this time and he swallowed it without as much as a twinge of an expression change. He collects what falls from his mouth with his tongue, making sure to keep eye contact with Andrew as he licks a strip up his softening cock to gather the falling beads. “Do you moan at everything?” Andrew mutters out, running his thumb over Neil’s eyebrow.
Neil didn’t realise he did but his lips stretched in a smile and pressed a kiss to Andrew’s dick and tucks him in, conscious that he doesn’t touch skin, “I do for you.”
Andrew clicks his tongue, and pulls Neil up so he can kiss him, “You’re so beautiful,” Neil says against his lips and Andrew kisses him harder, hand going to his hair again before he makes a similar disapproving noise and pulls away.
“We need to shower.”
Neil hums, suddenly aware of the discomfort of his pants and agrees, “Together?”
Andrew nods, “Yeah.”
Neil grins and follows Andrew to the bathroom.