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It started because of the weekly movie nights.
Somehow, Matt, Nicky, and Allison always managed to strong-arm the rest of them into watching early 2000s romcoms. Even the word romcom was so foreign to Neil that he had to mouth it a few times to himself the first time he heard it. Andrew, who had caught him doing this from across the room, had mouthed the word tragic and Neil had rolled his eyes and flipped him off.
But anyway. Romcoms.
In them, there was always way too much drama, Neil felt, for people who led relatively normal, middle-class lives. But he supposed that’s what happened when your biggest worry was the trigonometry pop quiz or what to wear to prom.
For most of the movies, Neil sat in his customary place on the floor between Andrew’s legs and blissed out while Andrew scratched his scalp. So, he wasn’t sure why the scenes in the movies that always, without fail, caught his attention were the confessions.
Boomboxes, standing in the rain, sprinting in the airport. Love interests shoving through crowds just to stand in front of someone and say I love you.
Three simple words.
At first, Neil thought they caught his attention simply because he had never heard them before, been told them. His mom didn’t say shit like that. Why would she? The fact that she risked her life to be on the run with him said more than enough. The swift backhands to teach him lessons in survival, how she’d go hungry to give him the last protein bar, the way she hid her gunshot wound until the end so Neil wouldn’t worry over something inevitable… all of that conveyed more than three words could, right?
Still, it was novel just hearing people say it.
So, that’s what Neil had chalked it up to. But it was around the fourth cheesy movie that Neil realized it might be something more.
Because the desperate way the actors delivered those words, like it was life or death and they needed the other person to know… well, it was a bit like thank you, you were amazing wasn't it?
Because sometimes when Neil looked at Andrew, he felt this… something shift underneath his skin. Something so massive and seismic it felt like the earth was moving beneath his feet and the only thing steady to hold onto was Andrew, the person who had caused the feeling in the first place.
Sometimes, it felt like the people in the movie were trying to convey the same thing with those three little words.
But whenever Neil thought about that he would push it to the back of his mind, focus on Andrew’s fingers in his curls, and appreciate what he had.
It was more than he had ever gotten, anyway.
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“You could have told me I was crashing your date.”
Matt looked horrified. He reached across the table, smashing Neil’s cheeks between the palms of his hands.
“Dude. My brother. Who told you that?”
Neil held up his flip phone. Andrew’s text was displayed on the screen: why are you crashing their date? Neil had gotten back from a run and Andrew had still been out grocery shopping with Kevin. So, when he had seen Matt and Dan heading to the diner, he had asked to join. Andrew was the one always preaching about how Neil needed to eat more than protein bars after working out.
“Never.” Matt gave Neil’s face one final smush before pulling away. “Andrew is just pouting we’re stealing away his Roof Time.”
Matt wasn’t wrong. Now that Andrew was back from the store, they both probably would have been up on the roof if Neil wasn’t with Matt and Dan.
“Don’t ever let him hear you say he pouts,” Dan said with a snort.
Neil would have to agree with that, too.
Besides, Andrew didn’t pout. He probably would go up to the roof anyway. It’s not like he needed Neil to be there, something he had said many, many times. Neil liked to think Andrew enjoyed his company more than most, but he was under no illusions that the blonde could probably easily adapt to life without him, if necessary.
“He doesn’t scare me.” Matt puffed up, before all six feet five of him deflated in the small, vinyl booth. “He totally does. You won’t tattle on me, right, Neil?”
“Nope,” Neil said, even though he mostly lost the thread of the conversation. Contrary to the events of the last few months (Browning, the FBI, etc) Neil’s general life philosophy was to not be a snitch.
“You’re always welcome,” Dan said with a smile. “Me and Matt spend more than enough time together.”
“Why do I feel vaguely offended by that?”
Dan patted Matt’s cheek, then pecked a kiss against it. “You were meant to.”
The conversation devolved to Dan’s plans for the future and new drills she wanted to try as an assistant coach. Neil was meant to be practicing having conversations not about Exy, but it was hard. Allison had pulled him into a conversation the other day about nail polish colors, of all things. Neil had spent the entire hour and a half conversation baffled.
“Wait…” Neil paused at something Dan had said, looking between them before settling on Matt. “You’re just going to move to ***? I thought you liked it here.”
“I totally do, but…” Matt lifted a shoulder. “I love Dan more. I’ll just get a job out over there once I graduate.”
Neil stared down at his plate while they continued making future plans. Matt said love like a rope tying the two of them together, something unbreakable that made it worth crossing distances and changing life plans. Matt said love like something permanent.
Matt said love like it meant something.
Not nothing.
It was right then that Neil knew he was in trouble. Because there he was, at some shitty diner eating a bland chicken wrap, thinking about how nice something sounded. Thinking about the fact that if Andrew asked, Neil was pretty sure he would gladly rearrange his life just for a chance at another key.
But Andrew wouldn’t ask, because Andrew always made it clear what they were.
Neil’s phone buzzed and he flipped it open.
Come back, rabbit.
Andrew probably had gotten bored smoking alone. Neil finished his wrap, made his excuses to Dan and Matt, and jogged back to the dorms.
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Neil’s face ached slightly, but his ribs were much worse. Every breath sent a sharp pain jolting through his chest. Definitely bruised, but not fractured. Neil knew enough about injuries to know that much.
Andrew was, of course, unamused.
“I leave you unattended one night.”
Neil sat on the edge of the bed. Andrew was propped up against pillows, glasses resting on his nose. His nose was cherry red and rubbed raw from all the tissues he’d been using, and Neil noticed the glass of water he had brought earlier was still almost completely full. He gave it a pointed look.
Andrew gave him a dead-eyed glance in return.
“Allison sent me a video.”
Neil grimaced. He hadn’t wanted to go to Eden’s, especially not without Andrew. Especially with Andrew sick. But Andrew seemed completely averse to any type of assistance, practically throwing everyone out of the apartment, which included Neil. Neil didn’t know why that made him feel so… unmoored.
He thought he didn’t count as everyone, but in the end, he did.
So, yeah, maybe Neil had been a little more on edge that night.
“You watched it?”
“I was waiting for you to return. When puppies pee inside, you shove their face in it so they learn not to do it again.”
Neil crossed his arms tightly.
“Don’t sulk, Abram. It’s not attractive.”
“I’m not sulking.”
Andrew flipped open his phone and the video started playing. Neil could see it out of the corner of his eye. It was hard to make anything out in the dim lights of Eden and the crush of the crowd, but Neil knew the video showed him launching himself at a man. He got a couple good hits in, before the man took him to the ground and Kevin and Matt had gotten involved.
The phone snapped shut with a decisive click.
“Want to tell me what that’s about?”
“Want to drink your water?”
Andrew blinked. Neil folded.
“Fine. Some asshat had been dancing against Renee and Allison and wouldn’t leave them alone. So, I took care of it.”
“You called him a spineless sniveling barnacle that broke mirrors every time he looked in them. According to Allison.”
Allison, apparently, did not have a no snitching policy. Neil would have to discuss that with her.
Andrew leaned forward, cupping Neil’s face. His thumb pressed against the edges of one of Neil’s bruises– not enough to hurt, but just enough that Neil felt the weight of it there.
“Someone should have taught you how to keep your mouth shut.”
“They tried,” Neil said, “Didn’t stick.”
“I know something that works.”
Neil’s eyes flicked over Andrew’s face– that heavy-lidded, impassive stare, the faint blue-green veins under his pale skin, his full lips always tilted in that displeased frown.
“You’re sick,” Neil managed.
Andrew moved away, He laid back against the bed, and tucked one arm underneath his head in a way that made his bicep flex. Neil swallowed heavily.
“I don’t plan on doing any of the work, rabbit,” Andrew said.
And yeah, okay. Neil didn’t need any convincing, never did with Andrew. One yes from Andrew’s lips and whispered command of hands only on my thighs and Neil was all too happy to shut himself up, using his mouth on Andrew.
Afterward, Neil rested on the pillow next to him. They weren’t touching anymore, because Andrew couldn’t always stand it right after the act. Neil was still hard, but it didn’t really bother him. It would go away eventually. His time was better spent cataloging the slight flush at the tips of Andrew’s ears or the way his blonde hair stuck out at different angles.
“Staring,” Andrew said.
The words rose up so suddenly that Neil had to clench his jaw to keep them from escaping. Still, he could feel those three words beating against the back of his teeth, scraping the insides of his mouth. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Turned out there was something else that could make Neil shut up:
Three words he had no right saying, and the guilt of wanting to say them anyway.
“You need to drink water,” Neil said.
Andrew shifted to look at him. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light.
“I took medicine like a normal person, Abram.”
“Oh.”
Neil hadn’t really considered that. From the amused tilt of Andrew’s brows, the blonde was well aware.
“Don’t get in fights when I’m not there.”
“Why?”
“You need someone to finish them.”
“And you will?”
Andrew shifted more fully onto his side. Neil was aware there were knives under Andrew’s pillow, a gun under his own.
“I look after what’s mine.”
Andrew hooked his pinky over Neil’s, and they drifted off.
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The weeks passed, and those words hung around Neil like phantoms. Neil wasn’t sure why. He had always been able to shove things away. When that countdown had been on his phone, Neil simply deleted the numbers each day, focused on what was in front of him, and moved on.
The issue was that when he focused on what was in front of him now it was always Andrew.
Andrew, deciding between ice cream flavors at the grocery store even though he always ended up choosing the same one. (I love you)
Andrew, sitting on the couch with Neil in the middle of the night, after another one of Neil’s nightmares. (I love you)
Andrew, laid flat on the bleachers with a book propped in his hand, lazily turning the pages. He insisted Kevin and Neil were obsessive Exy junkies, yet he still always came whenever they practiced. (I love you)
Andrew, taking Neil apart with slow pulls of his hand, a hand pressed over Neil’s mouth because these sounds are only for me, rabbit. (I love you)
Making them cups of hot chocolate. Buying extra cigarette packs. Taking sips of Neil’s coke at Eden’s before passing it to Neil, making sure it was safe. Shampooing Neil’s hair while muttering about the world is ending when I agree with Reynolds, after Allison insisted Neil needed a better routine for his curls. The tuft of hair at the back of Andrew’s head that never laid flat. The gentle texture of his scars, a proof of a life lived and survived. His eyes that weren’t just one color and glowed in the sunlight, no matter how much Andrew insisted he preferred the shadows. His biceps. His surly, bored attitude.
Those three words shoved to the forefront of Neil’s mind all day, every day. And watching Andrew crouched in front of a bush, waving a can of tuna, certainly wasn’t helping.
“It clearly wants to suffer and die,” Andrew said, yet he made no move to leave.
“Can’t we just call pest control?”
Andrew looked over his shoulder, snarling faintly. “It’s a kitten, Abram. Not a pest.”
Neil shifted on his feet.
“Maybe reach into the bush and grab it?”
Andrew huffed and ignored him. Neil knew Andrew had grown up in a few foster homes that had pets, but that information had always been something distant. Now Neil was getting a firsthand look at it. If it was Neil, he would have just left the kitten and continued on his run. Either it would survive or it wouldn’t. That’s the way the world worked.
Andrew clearly didn’t agree, but Neil supposed that made sense. Him and Kevin should both be dead, but Andrew stood between them and that fate with a steadiness Neil dreamed about, when his dreams were sweet instead of nightmares.
Neil kneeled next to Andrew, who set the tin in front of the bush. The plan now was to sit and wait.
“Hey,” Neil said, because his heart beat was thumping in time with those three words and it was eating him alive.
“Quiet.”
“Hey,” Neil said again, slightly more hushed. “What are we?”
Andrew didn’t take his gaze off the bush.
“We’re nothing,” he said off-handedly, like he had hundreds of times before.
Neil wanted to ask– but what does nothing mean? He wanted to map the boundaries of it. But he didn’t need to be a genius to know that nothing didn’t include I love you’s. Those boundaries were obvious.
“What will you do with the cat once you get it?”
“Take it to the pound,” Andrew replied.
Andrew might believe that now, but Neil knew it wasn’t the truth. Andrew had never known when to give up on lost causes.
Neil watched when Andrew finally bundled the kitten up in his sweatshirt with efficient, practiced movements. He wanted to say this can’t be nothing, but he didn’t.
Because it could.
Neil would always take exactly what Andrew gave him, and that would always be exactly what Neil needed. After a lifetime surviving, Neil was well-used to denying himself. It was fine.
--------------------------
“Babe.” Allison gave him a look. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Please don’t tell me you’re hiding some different mafia relative.”
Allison was clearly joking, so Neil didn’t bother mentioning his uncle.
“I’m f–” Neil cleared his throat. “A little tired.”
Allison pretended to wipe away tears. “They grow up so fast. Now– tell me what’s really wrong.”
They were sitting at her coffee table, one of Neil’s hands in her own. Apparently, that nail polish conversation had ulterior motives. If Neil had known that, he wouldn’t have claimed yellow was his favorite color. He had just been thinking of Andrew’s hair at the time, but now his nails looked like mini, tiny suns.
Neil couldn’t talk about Andrew. It felt wrong, like some sort of betrayal of trust. But maybe…
“Did you tell Seth you loved him?”
Something pained crossed Allison’s face.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Allison placed a clear coat on Neil’s pinky. “I wish more people talked about him, instead of clamming up every time I’m around.” She sighed. “I… yes. I told him, and I meant it. God, he was such a dick, but he was mine, you know?”
“He was a dick,” Neil said, for lack of anything else.
Allison laughed, and Neil ignored the slight sound of tears in it.
“Why do you ask?” Allison’s grip tightened. “Is this about Andrew? Did you tell him?”
“I– no.” Neil pulled his hand away, curling it into a fist. “We’re not like… that. We’re nothing.”
Allison pursed her lips. “Do you want to be more?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
She shook her head slowly. Some blonde strands had fallen out of her ponytail, but Allison didn’t bother to push them away. Her hair was pretty, but it was a darker shade than Andrew’s butter yellow.
“Babe. That’s not how a relationship works. Your needs matter just as much as his do.”
Neil said nothing, because there was really nothing to say. Him and Andrew didn’t have a relationship. Besides, even if they did, Neil wasn’t sure if he agreed with that.
“Yeah, yeah– I know that look.” Allison rolled her eyes. “Everything I said just went totally over your head, Josten. But trust me, one day you’ll realize I was right. And if Andrew doesn’t treat you right, I’ll–”
“Don’t.”
Neil could deal with threats– his whole life had been composed of them– but not against Andrew. Not even as a joke.
Allison sent him a long look before sighing again. “Give me that hand back, Josten. You totally fucked up my paint job.”
She was right about that, at least. Neil went back to his dorm with yellow streaks all over his palm. Andrew had taken one look at Neil’s bright nails, lined up his own black-painted ones, and huffed. Neil had to admit, he liked the way it looked when their fingers were threaded together.
Maybe Allison was right about that, too.
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Two weeks passed, and Neil… thought.
It’s not like thinking was a novel concept, but in the past Neil’s mind was occupied with thoughts of patching up gunshot wounds or sneaking into motels to try and save money.
Now, Neil was thinking about relationships– or the lack thereof.
Luckily, Andrew was occupied with the kitten, which meant Neil had plenty of time to go on long runs without Andrew thinking something was wrong.
Because nothing was, except Neil’s own inability to just forget about things like love and appreciate what he had. He didn’t even know why those three words were haunting him so much, why they mattered. It’s not like he had grown up hearing them. It’s not like Andrew had, either.
And maybe that was the crux of it.
They mattered because they felt true, and Neil didn’t lie to Andrew anymore. Every time he held back those words, it felt like he was holding back so much more. Maybe those words mattered so much because neither of them had ever received them, and they felt like… something Neil could give Andrew, something he wanted to give Andrew.
But something Andrew, with all his boundaries, didn’t want to receive.
So either Neil was back to being a liar, or he was crossing boundaries.
Hence, all the runs.
Rain pelted down around him, loud enough that Neil couldn’t hear the pounding of his own feet on pavement. He was lucky Kevin was off on some father-son bonding trip with Wymack, or he would have gotten an earful about risking pneumonia for a jog.
But Neil had taken one look at Andrew, reading a book in one hand, petting the kitten with another, and knew he needed to run.
Get his thoughts in order.
Figure out why surviving had been so much easier than living. At least, with survival, Neil had known the rules. He had no idea what he was doing anymore. Matt had to teach him how to put on a fitted sheet the other day.
Still, old habits died hard. He knew minutes before Andrew pulled up on the curb, having clocked the car turning down the block.
“Get in the car, idiot.”
“Not done with my jog yet,” Neil said, crouching down a little to speak through the small crack Andrew had opened in the window.
“If you make me get out of the car in this weather, I will dismember you. Joyfully.”
“I’m glad my final moments would be spent giving you happiness.”
“I hate you.”
Neil could make out Andrew through the small crack. He was wearing a soft, oversized black sweatshirt and sweats. Neil knew exactly how soft it was, because sometimes Andrew let Neil flop against him on the couch. Andrew would rest his wrist on the top of Neil’s curls, using Neil like a type of table as he read his book.
Neil swallowed those three words down.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Abram.” Andrew’s voice was a taut line. “Get in the car.”
Neil backed away. He couldn’t get in that car, because he hadn’t figured out his shit yet. Neil needed more time to plan out how to be normal. He turned and jogged a little bit, stopping when he felt something thunk against the back of his head.
Neil turned, staring first at the pack of cigarettes on the concrete and then at Andrew, a few feet away.
“Those are gonna get soaked.” Neil tipped his head. “Actually, so are you.”
“Too late for that.”
Andrew was right– he was already soaked clean-through, and the cigarettes were ruined. Andrew took a few steps closer, and Neil forgot all about the rain. He was more focused on how Andrew’s hair became a burnished gold when it was wet, or how the droplets of water carved paths down his pale throat. Neil wanted to follow the line of those paths with his tongue.
“If you want to stop, you say so.” Andrew looked at Neil, his face hard as granite. “Say no and I leave you alone. That’s the deal. That’s always been the deal.”
Neil was so busy imagining his lips pressed against Andrew’s throat it took a few seconds for the words to compute.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I…” Not lying was annoying. “I guess so. But you’ve been busy with the cat.”
“And my rabbit felt neglected,” Andrew asked mildly.
It’s not like Neil planned to say anything. He was still getting his thoughts in order, learning how to suppress again after months learning how to not. But, like all characters in romcoms knew, the rain had some sort of truth serum effect. Or maybe that was just Andrew, who always managed to pull truths from Neil without even trying.
“I love you,” Neil said. The words felt like a different language falling from his lips, and Neil had never minded learning new languages. He was learning Andrew’s, wasn’t he? “I love you, and I’m sorry. I know that’s not what this is, and I know this is nothing, but the less I said it the more I felt like I was lying.”
Andrew’s hands twitched at his sides. Like rain from the sky, more truths poured out of Neil’s mouth.
“I’m good with whatever you give me, Drew. I really am. But this… I had to say it. I wanted you to hear it, I guess. I wanted you to know.”
Andrew’s jaw clenched. “I can’t say that back to you, Abram.”
“I know.”
“Not right now.”
“I know.” Neil stepped forward. “I meant what I said. I’m happy with what you give me.”
“But you wanted me to know.”
Andrew said this like a statement, but Neil heard the questions underneath it.
“You deserve to know you’re loved.”
“And you don’t?” Andrew said, fists clenching.
“You gave me a key and told me to stay,” Neil replied. “I guess I thought… even if this is nothing to you, that meant everything to me.”
Andrew grabbed Neil by the back of the neck and pressed their foreheads together. Both their skin was slick with rain, but neither of them mentioned it. Andrew was breathing heavily, but Neil didn’t mention that either.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“And you mean it. And you’re staying.”
As much as Neil was used to leaving places, Andrew was used to being left. Neil repeated it back to him– I mean it, I’m staying– and hoped Andrew could read the earnestness in his voice.
“I can’t say it back. Not now.” Andrew pulled back, looking Neil in the eyes. “But I can say you’re mine. And that has never been nothing, idiot.”
Neil grinned, wide. “Really?”
“I forget you need things spelled out.”
“Diagrams are helpful, too. Maybe a guidebook.”
“Idiot,” Andrew said again, crushing a quick kiss against his lips. “Next time– say something. There’s two of us in this, Abram.”
“Huh.” Neil blinked. “Guess Allison was right.”
Andrew’s lip curled. “Don’t make me agree with Reynolds about something else. Now, get in the car before I decide to hate you even more.”
“I love you,” Neil replied, just because he could.
The look that crossed Andrew’s face was violent. And later, after the cat was fed and they were in their bed, Neil faced the consequences for every I love you he uttered. Of course, the consequences were Andrew’s hands on him and eventually the I love you’s turned into incomprehensible moans. If that was the punishment Neil had to be afraid of, he wasn’t worried at all.
Neil curled up on his side, facing Andrew, who reached out and brushed a sweaty curl from Neil’s face.
“You’re worse than a pipe dream.”
Neil scrunched his nose. “What could be worse?”
“Something real,” Andrew said blandly, but Neil heard the edges beneath it. “Something I can lose.”
Neil moved closer, close enough he could feel the heat from Andrew’s body. He didn’t say anything, because there was nothing he could say. He agreed. Having Andrew felt like tempting the universe in the worst way, but that didn’t mean Neil would give it up. Andrew clearly felt the same way, for the way he fisted Neil’s curls in his grip like he was afraid to let him go for even a second. Andrew moved forward, parting Neil’s lips with his own.
Maybe Andrew couldn’t return those three words right now, but the way he kissed Neil… the way he said you’re mine every time they pulled apart… now that it had been spelled out, Neil was understanding the words crystal clear. To Andrew, nothing was safe. To Andrew, not right now meant someday soon.
To Andrew…
“I hate you, Abram.”
Well, maybe now Neil knew what that meant, too.