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During the first 6 months of knowing Neil Josten, he’d refused all conversation surrounding shift forms. It was the Foxes’ largest and most anticipated betting pool yet, and one of many more to come surrounding the newest Fox.
It’s not uncommon for people to be private about their shift form, Andrew himself rarely showed it outside of fights. There were also others like Matt or Aaron who preferred it when possible. Neil had taken his privacy to the next level. He was obsessive in his refusal to share even the smallest amount of information with the foxes about his shift-form.
Andrew knew Nicky had bet that it was something really embarrassing, while Renee thought his reluctance to share could’ve been evidence for an inconvenient form, like a dolphin.
Andrew knew it was something else, not embarrassing or aquatic, but that Neil’s form was real. Real where Neil Josten wasn’t more than a broken person’s dream. Andrew hadn’t bothered to bet, had never even asked despite their game.
It had taken Andrew being broken apart and hastily shoved back together, and a palm dragged over hidden scars for him to broach the topic.
“What is it?” Words as sharp as the knives he kept, except his arms were bare for the first time in years, and Bee was sending him away when she knew what that meant.
“I know you’ve felt a scar before Andrew,” Neil’s mouth and obtuse nature never ceased to amaze.
Andrew fought the smile off his face in a hard won battle, “Your shift-form, Pinocchio. What does Abram, the real boy, turn into when he’s all alone?”
Neil froze, and Andrew could feel how the muscles in his stomach tensed under his palm. He still didn’t remove his hand.
“A house cat,” Andrew blinked at the barely said words. Of course, all of that secrecy for a form as common as can be. Neil Josten could never stop surprising him it seemed. Neil’s gaze was focused, his shoulders squared even as Andrew felt him tremble.
“When you get back,” Neil started slowly, “I will show you.”
Andrew couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out his throat, the smile that stretched wide across his face.
“Well. It’ll have to do won’t it?” A hallucination that thought it could stick around, a runner that promised to stay.
How hilarious.
~~~
Andrew returned from Easthaven to his group in tip top condition, apart from Neil Abram Josten, as was par for the course.
Andrew felt that now familiar hatred rise at the sight of his uncovered eyes. The bruises were new, as was the hair, but that could all be dealt with later.
It wasn’t until Neil had followed him to the roof and told him the goddamned truth for once, that Andrew seriously contemplated murder.
A goddamn hallucination going to Evermore for Andrew. As if someone as incorporeal as him could protect anyone, as if a runner like him would stand his ground for someone like Andrew.
“Next time someone comes for you, you will stand down and let me handle it. Or have you forgotten that I am the man who said he will keep you alive?”
“If it means losing you, then no.”
Andrew felt the hatred bubble up his throat as his heart beat too fast, his face remained etched in stone, “I hate you. You were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.”
Neil didn’t even blink, “I’m not a hallucination.”
Andrew couldn’t stand him, “You are a pipe dream.”
Andrew hated him. He hated him. He wanted him gone, and he wanted him close, and he hated that he was wanting anything at all. He threw his cigarette off the side of the roof and watched it fall, “Get out of my sight.”
Neil was nonplussed, “You still have my keys.”
Andrew threw them off the side without a care in the world, “Go fetch.”
Neil shrugged, “Wrong animal.” But he went anyway, always listening to Andrew. Always respecting his boundaries as if they meant anything at all.
“You’ll have to wait at least a week before I’m healed enough to shift, but I keep my promises.” Andrew let him slide away without a word.
He watched from the roof as Neil’s small figure picked up his discarded cigarette, coaxing it back to life as he pulled the smoke into his lungs. Fervently, Andrew wished he’d never met Neil Abram Josten.
~~~
Neil was small. That was Andrew’s first thought when he finally shifted in front of him. His cat form couldn’t have been more than 7 pounds. It was covered in scars from head to toe, along with the newly healing wounds from Evermore. His fur was red like his hair, but patchy, nonexistent where the scars broke through. His ears twitched in discomfort.
Embarrassingly, Andrew wanted to pet him. What had Neil done to him that he could want something so easily?
He was still graceful despite the injuries, jumping easily from the floor to his desk to his bed. Andrew glared with murder in his eyes when Neil padded over to his pillow.
“Do not even think about it.”
Neil blinked slowly, tilting his small head in faux innocence. “Meow?”
Andrew thought about squeezing him till he popped. Instead, he watched as Neil circled his pillow once, twice, before kneading it with his stupid tiny paws.
When he finally flopped down, no doubt getting short red cat hair all over Andrew’s sleeping space, he didn’t even think about moving him. It was disgusting. It also became a habit.
A promise to stop attacking their teammates' ankles led to an exploration of Neil’s scars. He’d seen them in his cat form last week, felt them under his shirt before being shipped off to Easthaven.
This was different.
Neil had ripped off his shirt like a band-aid, but he didn’t flinch or stiffen underneath Andrew’s palm. Andrew traced them, not gently or harshly, but mapping out the reality of their existence.
Neil gave him short answers.
Gun shot. Road rash. Cleaver. Knife. Knife. Knife. Clothing iron. For others he gave no answer at all.
The rise of anger was as familiar as it was aggravating. He wondered if he needed to put a knife to Neil’s skin to know he was real, but Andrew was already tired of watching him bleed.
When Andrew had looked his fill, Neil asked him to turn around. More aggravating than the history and violence painted on Neil’s skin was the fact that Andrew only hesitated for a second before doing so.
A hesitant meow told him that it was safe to turn back. Neil seemed uncertain, but still stood close to Andrew’s legs. He looked up at Andrew before brushing against his shin tentatively, much like an actual cat would. He drew back almost immediately, intent on not pushing his luck.
Andrew watched as he explored the room for a second time. Neil looked comfortable here, more so than he did in his human form. For perhaps the millionth time Andrew vowed to unravel the mystery of Neil Abram Josten.
Did he stay in his animal form while on the run? Were those scars given to a young boy or a kitten? If he felt so obviously comfortable in his form, why hide it from the rest of the team? Why show it to Andrew of all people?
Andrew wanted to know the answers to his questions, wanted to know the life he had lived, wanted to know the feel of Neil’s skin outside of clinical touches.
Andrew scowled down at the menace on his floor. He wanted to skin him and make a particularly shitty hat with his fur, but even that was filled with wanting.
Neil simply sat there, looking undeniably smug in that way only cats could pull off. Andrew didn’t even throw him out, he simply sat at his desk and resolved to ignore the bane of his existence.
Predictably, it didn’t last long.
Whenever they went to Columbia, after the others would fall asleep in drunken stupors, Andrew would find a little red ball of Neil trailing him to his room. He never entered without Andrew’s permission, like some sort of vampire, but once inside he was as much of a nuisance as ever.
He knocked forgotten mugs onto the carpet. He tore up the laces on all of Andrew’s shoes. There was now red cat fur between his sheets. Neil still hadn’t shown his form to anyone else to Andrew’s knowledge, but it seemed he’d taken Andrew’s acceptance as permission.
He didn’t take his shirt off again, despite Andrew’s growing familiarity with his scars. Instead he’d clamber his way out of a pile of clothes, as if somehow that was more efficient.
Despite the trust Neil somehow had for him, they still rarely talked about their forms. Andrew knew the others would’ve killed to know it. There was probably a separate pool dedicated to who Neil would trust to shift for first. Andrew didn’t know what to think about Neil choosing him over someone like Matt. The longer he thought about it the angrier he’d get, so he pushed it out of his mind whenever the thought popped up.
So they didn’t talk about it.
Not after the first time Neil fell asleep on Andrew’s pillow, cat form curled contently. Not as Neil got more comfortable brushing his furred body against him, not even as Andrew continued allowing it.
They didn’t talk about it, not until Andrew had his teeth around Allison’s neck. Shifting hadn’t even been a conscious thought, it was a loss of control that Andrew hated himself for. But after two years around him, she should’ve known better than to hit his brother.
Andrew may not be a lion like Dan, smaller than your typical apex predator, but few people knew how to handle a furious wolverine flying at their face.
Allison hadn’t been able to react until he had her on the ground, claws digging into her shoulders and teeth cradling her neck. Not drawing blood, but nowhere near gentle.
Renee wrapped herself around Allison, as fast as a striking cobra (quite literally), but still too slow. Her forked tongue flicked towards him gently, he could almost hear her words in his head. Gentle, idiotic, wool atop steel Renee who should’ve done better.
Distantly, he took note of the upperclassmen’s outrage and Neil’s harsh orders to remain out of it. He almost appreciated it until Neil opened his mouth, and then he wished it was Neil’s throat he was poised to rip out.
He aimed all of his poisonous anger, his jet black hatred in Neil’s direction, and he watched as the man didn’t so much as flinch. Neil pulled on his promise like a leash, as if Andrew could be tamed, as if Neil’s promise could supersede the one he made to his stupid fucking brother.
He didn’t know what gave him away, perhaps the growl in his throat or the tightening of his teeth, but Aaron started babbling inanities about his state. Reassurances that Andrew had heard a million times when Aaron was accumulating bruises behind closed doors.
He dropped Allison anyway, clambering off her as Renee curled around her like a particularly unfashionable scarf. The upperclassmen’s words were white noise as Andrew moved to Nicky, ripped clothes already bundled in his arms from Andrew’s swift retaliation.
“What the fuck is going on?!” It was almost amusing to watch Neil answer Coach’s question, saying nothing and everything simultaneously. Andrew was too busy gathering his rage back down to truly appreciate it.
Coach turned exasperated eyes on Andrew’s form, “We are going back to your dorm so you can change, and then I am going to talk and you are going to listen.” Andrew rolled his eyes in answer, but followed behind him anyway.
~~~
Later, Neil found him on the roof, human form restored and none the better for it.
Andrew spoke nonchalantly, “I’ll drag you off this roof.”
Neil had only tilted his head, something smug on his face, “Would you? I’d just drag you down with me. Besides, only one of us has nine lives here, and it’s not you.”
Andrew’s rage was buried deep, but he still contemplated grabbing him by the collar and pushing him towards the edge, “I hate you.”
Neil had the audacity to look straight through him, as if Andrew was the liar between them, “It’d be a waste of effort to throw me off the side. You know what they say, cats always land on their feet.”
“Do you enjoy parading your shift form around me? Do you get a kick out of keeping it a pathetic little secret? I could kill you in an instant. Ninety percent of the time I imagine skinning your furry little body and wearing it as a hat, maybe as a scarf, something that serves as a warning to others.
“Only ninety percent? Maybe I decided to trust you because I knew you wouldn’t care. Maybe I chose to trust you because of that other ten percent. Does it matter?” Andrew ignored him.
He felt the embers of his anger flare like the start of an infection, “Do not think you can leash me, unlike you I’m not some domestic house pet. I am not your fucking dog.”
Neil took a drag from one of Andrew’s cigarettes, an action he performed so thoughtlessly it boiled him from the inside, “We both know you leashed yourself when you made your deal with me. Don’t get mad that I’m the first to be smart enough to pick it up.”
“Do not do it again. I’ll kill you.”
Neil simply looked at him and said nothing. They both knew he wouldn’t, and that was more aggravating than anything else. That Neil saw him, and knew him, and honored his deals in a way no one else had before.
“Was it even the money? The more we talk the more I realize it’s got more to do with a perfectly reasonable desire to hurt you.”
“So you say, but you still won’t kill me. Not while we have a deal.”
“The time is fast approaching.”
Neil took another drag, “Good. I want to see you lose control. Death by wolverine might even be preferable.”
“What happened to the man who wanted to survive? If I wanted a turn in our game, I’d ask if you had a change in heart. Now you’re practically begging someone to off you,” Andrew spit out.
He curled his hands into fists, that black rage from earlier leaking into his demeanor. “I’m done with your stupidity. Go bother someone else now.”
Neil side eyed him, “Oh am I bothering you?”
“Immeasurably.”
“I thought no one got under your skin?”
Andrew pointed to the door, “Go.” And Neil went.
He was wrong, Neil hadn’t gotten under his skin. He’d stripped him layer by layer until his view was all blood and bone. He looked at Andrew like he could see under the apathy, under the monster, until it was just that dead core of him. He hated it more than he craved it, and yet he craved it.
~~~
The first time they kissed Andrew felt the loss of control in his bones. He put his hands on Neil because there was no other option. He pressed their lips together like he could excise his desire through Neil’s mouth.
Neil’s eyes closed near immediately, melting into the press of Andrew’s lips in an image that he was sure to remember for the rest of his life. He kept his eyes open for another moment, too unwilling to miss the way Neil’s curls fell over his face, the way desire and trust smoothed his face into something new, something vulnerable.
Andrew pushed into him harder, closing his eyes as a wave of hatred brought a flush to his face. His world narrowed until there was nothing outside of Neil, the roof and the ground beneath him falling away. He memorized the feel of his lips and the press of scars beneath fabric, so different from anything he’d felt before. Andrew had kissed many boys, and yet none of them could compare to this.
Neil kissed him back with equal fervor, though obvious inexperience. For a moment Andrew imagined doing this again and again, teaching Neil how to move his lips in rhythm with his own. The desire it invoked under his skin was heady and near overwhelming.
The spell broke when he felt Neil’s hand grab his coat. Dragging himself away was harder than it had any right to be for what was only a kiss.
Neil was panting, lips bright red and bruised, his unnaturally blue eyes eclipsed by a blown pupil. He looked like every one of Andrew’s dreams and fantasies rolled into one.
“Tell me no,” It was a demand not a plea. Andrew did not beg anymore.
Neil looked as if all knowledge of the English language had left his mind. Andrew tried hard not to feel anything about that. Neil wavered, as if he couldn’t decide whether to lean in or lean back.
That was enough for Andrew, as he pulled Neil’s hand off his coat. “Let go. I am not doing this with you right now.”
“Why not?” Neil’s voice was breathy, winded, more so than Andrew had heard it even after playing a full Exy game. Andrew tried not to focus on that.
“Because you are too stupid to tell me no.”
Neil’s confusion and utter belief in Andrew made him want to throw him over the side. Just to teach him a lesson.
“I will not be like them. I won’t let you let me be.”
“The next time someone calls you a monster I might have to fight them.”
The worst part was that Andrew believed he would, “Ninety two percent, going on ninety three.”
He watched as Neil’s smile lit up his whole face, it was a real smile. Not the broken jagged thing he’d worn in the locker room yesterday, a smile that spoke of pain and anger. This was softer, Neil’s eyes brightened like the sky at sunset, filled with an emotion Andrew didn’t know how to place. He watched as Neil wiped the smile off his face, the anger that arose from that action was embarrassing to admit to, even to himself.
“Thank you.”
Andrew scoffed, even now it was hard to imagine Neil as a real person, “Go before I drag you off.”
Neil chuckled, “I’d drag you down with me, and remember, I’d be landing on my feet.”
Andrew watched him leave and felt the thrum of ignored desires beneath his skin.
~~~
They kissed a second time. A third. A fourth. It became a habit, much like Neil’s time spent shifted in Andrew’s bedroom.
It felt different each time, despite his perfect memory. It was nothing. It meant nothing, and yet Andrew sought out Neil’s lips, the press of his ribs beneath his own hand, the way his breath stuttered when Andrew brought him over the edge. Columbia changed too.
If they weren’t making out, Neil was lounging in his shift form. They’d ended up on Andrew’s bed, Neil sprawled beautifully beneath him. It was late enough that their kisses had become slow and lazy, frantic presses turned soft with their exhaustion. Andrew refused to look into it any further.
Neil hummed into the latest kiss, before pulling back, “I should head to the couch soon.”
Andrew looked down at him, hair mussed from where his hands had raked through it, lips bruised and eyes half-lidded, “You can stay, as long as it’s in your fleabag form.”
Neil’s lips quirked in a small smile, “Sometimes I think you like me better when I’m a cat.”
Andrew was unimpressed, “I hate you all the time, but at least you can’t talk like that.”
There was a light in Neil’s eyes that said trouble, but he shifted without a word. Without thinking, Andrew raised a hand to his small head. He could almost feel Neil’s eyebrows raise, but he pushed into Andrew’s palm despite that.
He was soft. Andrew stroked a palm down his back and froze as Neil arched into it. He seemed surprised by his own movement, but Andrew doubted anyone had ever touched him like this before. His stomach dropped at the sensation that idea brought to him, so he ignored it.
He pet through his fur again, paying special attention to the space between and behind his ears. For a moment he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was hearing. It was quiet, raspy, a barely there sound, but Andrew could feel the vibrations through his palm.
Neil was purring, eyes closed in bliss, Andrew doubted he even knew it was happening. His other hand clenched hard enough to draw blood; the flash of fury so visceral he could only imagine breaking his tiny fragile neck. He didn’t.
Neil’s eyes remained closed, his purr intact, and Andrew wondered if nothing was supposed to feel like this.
~~~
He gets his answer in Baltimore.
~~~
“So,” Allison starts, “Are we ever going to get the answers to when this happened?” She waves a hand between the two of them, as if she could mean anything else.
Andrew doesn’t react, though he thinks the upperclassmen should learn to mind their own business one of these days. Just because they’re on vacation doesn’t mean Andrew will hesitate to knife her. Neil merely looks at her, wounds freshly bared to the world but alive, still alive. The relief has dug its way into Andrew’s chest with each beat of his heart, it’s a fact he’s going to have to learn to live with.
Neil shrugs, “I’ve spent the past few days spilling out every one of my secrets. I think we’ll be keeping this one to ourselves.”
Allison narrows her eyes, “Fine. I’ll get it out of you one of these days, how about we settle some of the other bets then.”
Neil looks wary, “My sexuality didn’t change because of Andrew. I don’t know why you were betting on it in the first place.”
Allison waves him off, “No, not that. Does the monster know your shift form?” Neil glares at the nickname, but Andrew couldn’t care less. He doesn’t answer, but he does nod.
A cry of anguish arises from Matt’s spot on the couch, “This is so unfair. They don’t even live together!”
He turns into Dan’s shoulder, she shushes him with an amused look on her face, “I know babe, it totally should’ve been you.” Neil just looks on, probably bemused at their dramatics.
“So that means we get to know now, right Neil? I mean what was the point of hiding it in the first place?” Nicky chimes in.
Neil just shrugs, “It didn’t feel right. I was lying about everything else, but I couldn’t lie about that. My father’s people knew my form too, so I couldn’t risk it.” Andrew tries not to freeze at that silent admission, that Neil could trust Andrew to keep it secret, to keep him safe.
Neil continues, “Anyway, it’s not anything that impressive. I’m just a cat.”
That brings the room to a standstill, “A cat?” Kevin’s drunken voice holds an impressive amount of disdain.
“Like a big cat?” Renee asks.
Dan gets suitably excited hearing that, “That’s awesome! We’ll be so intimidating as captains next year!”
Neil’s amusement is clear on his face, “No. I’m just a house cat.”
Aaron scoffs, “All of that secrecy and your form’s a pet. I don’t know why I’m even surprised.”
Allison wilts into her chair, “Fuck, I don’t think anyone bet on that option.”
“Do you even know your breed?” Of course, Kevin is the one to ask, all purebred racehorse haughtiness.
Neil shakes his head, “Never thought about it.”
It’s such a Neil thing to say, of course he’d never thought about what exactly his shift form was, it almost has Andrew’s lips twitching into a smile.
“He’s a Chausie.” Andrew had gone to google the day after Neil had revealed himself, searching for what breed could possibly match Neil and all his abnormality. He still has the wiki page memorized, of course.
The others still at the sound of his voice, possibly not believing he had really seen it. Renee’s smile is small and knowing, Andrew ignores her.
The room bursts into noise in the next second, “Someone pull up google!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!”
“Oh my god he’s such a cute cat. Neil, this is the best day of my life.”
“We should’ve known, he’s like one of those skittish strays.”
“He probably has rabies. Ow- what the fuck?!”
“I’m sure he’s got all his shots,” Dan says. Then she seems to remember who she’s talking about and looks over Neil with a critical eye, “You do have all your shots right?”
Neil just smiles innocently at her. He’s clearly about to say something supremely stupid, so Andrew grabs him by the collar and begins to pull him to their room.
“We’re going. Don’t you all know that curiosity killed the cat?” Neil’s laughter rings in his ears until they’re settled in to sleep.
~~~
After the dorm swap, it becomes normal to see Neil in his shift form. The others got over his scars quickly, more due to Neil’s obvious discomfort whenever the subject is breached than anything else.
Nicky coos over him every time he sees it for the first month, his phone is quickly filled with photos of Neil’s shift form. Kevin gets him one of those feather duster toys, which Neil responds to by tacking horseshoes to the bottom of every single pair of shoes he owns. Andrew greatly enjoys listening to Kevin stomp around the room, the click of metal hitting the floor just makes him fume more. Neither of them mention the fact that Neil does in fact, enjoy playing with the toy in Columbia.
He knows Neil spends time in his shift form with the others, primarily Matt, but most of his time is dedicated to Andrew, shifted or not. He doesn’t ask if he lets the others pet him, or if he’s purred in front of them. Mostly because it’s not his business, but also because he doesn’t care.
It’s enough to have Neil alive and with him, to press him down on the floor, the mattress, the bean bag. To feel the way he shudders beneath Andrew’s touch, how he arches into it, always asking only for what Andrew can give. Andrew can hear the sound of Neil’s voice saying yes in a thousand different ways, he can trace scars over skin or fur, he can let Neil touch him back.
The knowledge that this, whatever “this” is, is something lives quietly beneath his skin after Baltimore. It’s not until Neil asks to be chosen that Andrew is forced to face it in all it’s fucked up glory.
He shoves the armbands he bought him into his scarred arms, matching just like the winter coats Nicky bought for them. How fucking dare he. How dare he ask for Andrew to choose him, to play Exy, to plan for a fucking future as if Neil Josten will remain in it.
Except- except somehow Neil has buried himself so deep in Andrew’s chest he feels it ache with every inhale. He’s carved his name into every bone, every blood vessel, every inch of tainted skin.
There is a piece of him that will always be empty, but now there’s something surrounding it. Some fucked up emotion that feels like the burn of Neil’s touch. Something sick that has him imagining a future, one where they share an apartment, a bed, a life together. Andrew must not be as smart as he thought he was, to let Neil Abram Josten give him something like hope.
~~~
Andrew is very rarely tired after a day of exams, one of the rare perks of his fucked up memory. Today, however, he won't deny the relief he feels in his exhaustion at the empty dorm. He drops his bag before flopping down on a beanbag in a move so undignified he takes a moment to thank Renee's god that Kevin is staying with Coach for the foreseeable future.
The combination of finals week and a lack of night practices had the man terrorizing their dorm like a caged animal. Neil hadn't liked it either, but Andrew didn’t have to deal with him bitching and moaning about it. No, Andrew had to deal with something much worse.
It’s been more than a year since they won the championship against the Ravens. Now that Neil is no longer convinced he'll drop dead in a few months, he's taken to freaking out about his exams like any good college student. Every time Kevin started ranting about their missed extra practices and their duty to the Moriyamas, Andrew had watched the tension in Neil's shoulders rise higher and higher.
Andrew had gotten so sick of it he exiled Kevin to Coach's place until he got over himself. It's only been a few days since, but at least Neil isn't tiptoeing around the dorm like a shadow anymore.
Andrew knows he's still barely sleeping, devouring problem sets and lecture recordings like he can etch them into his brain. He only seems to remember to eat when Andrew brings him food, bowls of fruit that are coincidentally his favorite or those disgusting protein shakes he favors.
Neil always thanks him with a smile when he does it. It's barely a smile even, just the slightest upturn of his lips. It crinkles the knife scars near his lips that Andrew has traced with his tongue. His eyes too, seem to soften somehow, like Andrew's presence is enough to drain the tension in his back.
Andrew hates it. He can see that smile in perfect rendition whenever he closes his eyes. Each time he resists the urge to break another window.
Today though, Neil is finally finishing his last exam, much like Andrew just did. The plan is to drive to Columbia tomorrow, where they can hopefully snag a full week alone before the rest of his idiots join them. Even with Kevin gone from the dorm, they haven't done anything more than curl up in Neil's shitty twin bed each night.
Then his idiotic group is breaking up for the summer again, Nicky to Germany, Aaron to the cheerleader, and Kevin to Coach. Neil seemed interested in another road trip, so Andrew’s been planning a route through the south.
However, Andrew’s still mostly looking forward to their queen size mattress in Columbia. He's looking forward to taking Neil apart on it even more. He checks his phone and sees that there's still an hour left in Neil's calculus exam and groans. He could wait on the roof with a cigarette, but he doesn't want to move.
He grabs for the remote to find something suitably trashy to fill his time, with luck Neil will finish early and Andrew can get a head start on his plans for Columbia.
Andrew wakes to the sound of a lock clicking open what feels like five minutes later. He checks his phone and sees it's been closer to forty.
Even with dark circles under his eyes and unwashed hair, Neil walking through the door is a sight to behold. His eyes are disgustingly bright as he drops his bag at the door like the weight of the world is coming off his shoulders.
He tilts his head back to sigh, leaving Andrew to drag his eyes from the line of his jaw to the curve of his neck. The angle makes it look even longer and Andrew honest to god feels his mouth water.
He is so fucking sick of his never ending attraction to Neil Josten. He thought after more than a year of their “something” his body would get with the program, instead he’s got a Pavlovian response to everything Neil Josten.
"If you're looking for reassurance that you didn't fail. you're not going to find it in the ceiling.”
Neil lets his gaze fall to Andrew's with a small smirk, "Are you suggesting I find it with you then?"
"We both know what I think about your learning curve."
Neil smiles, a real one this time, before making his way into the kitchen, "Kevin still at Wymack's?"
Andrew listens as he rummages around in their cabinets, the pickings are always slim this late in the year, "He’s driving him to drink I hear."
Neil reappears with a sliced apple and some peanut butter, "Like father like son I suppose." He settles in the other bean bag, not yet close enough to touch.
Somehow, Andrew can feel every inch of space between them, as if the absence of Neil's touch is caressing his skin. His sudden desire to push Neil down and smother him completely is heady and overwhelming. He barely keeps his fists from clenching as he forces himself to look back at the TV.
Neil munches quietly while Andrew focuses his attention back on Gordon Ramsey's latest screaming match. His desire banks itself slowly, though he knows now it will never truly go away.
Andrew hates him for it even as he feels a sense of contentment roll over him. Something in his presence is enough to put Andrew at ease, and he loathes it and craves it in equal measure.
Andrew readjusts so he's more or less laying down fully, his thigh brushing against Neil's as he settles in, moving their bean bags closer.
It takes less than a minute for Neil's gaze to lock on to him. There's always been a particular weight to Neil's stare, a sense of accomplishment as Andrew gains his full attention.
Andrew turns to meet Neil's eyes with only a raised eyebrow, the implied "staring" unheard.
Neil's gaze flickers from his eyes to his face to his chest. It is warm and fond and everything Andrew doesn't deserve. He catalogs his position again and only just stops a sigh from escaping his lips.
He looks over Neil again, drinking in the form he knows is going to disappear as he waits for him to speak. It doesn't take long, really it never does.
Neil starts to fidget, just a bit, fingers drumming on his thighs or a hand running through his hair. His eyes never leave Andrew, or rather, they never leave his chest.
He watches, and he waits, and he sees when Neil's eyes finally take on that inhuman gleam. His pupils are slit, a predator locked on to prey.
His body has gone still as he looks over at Andrew's face once, twice, before he's opening his mouth, "Could I-?" Andrew rolls his eyes.
As much as Neil likes this Andrew knows he probably likes it more. "Yes, Neil." Andrew blinks for only a moment, and then the boy next to him is gone.
He watches as the pile of clothes Neil was just wearing wiggle in frustration. Neil's impatience is always amusing. Andrew hasn’t explicitly said he’s an idiot for not taking his clothes off first like a goddamn normal person, but he’s pretty sure Neil’s gotten the memo at this point, especially as his disgruntled face pops out of his own shirt.
When Neil's feline head finally pops out, Andrew doesn't bother hiding his amusement. Neil rolls his eyes before bounding towards him in a move more reminiscent of a puppy than anything else.
Andrew has never understood why people call animals beautiful, but it makes sense when he takes in Neil’s form. He watches as Neil clambers onto his chest rather gracefully, the start of a purr buried in the back of his throat.
This is a habit now, one that formed naturally as they got used to their mutual orbit. Sometimes Andrew thinks Neil likes this more than anything else they do together, he doesn’t know whether to judge him for that or not.
Neil kneads his sweatshirt, claws barely grazing the skin beneath fabric as he adjusts it to his liking. The kneading makes the purr in his throat even louder, no longer raspy and quiet like it was in the beginning of this.
Now, Andrew understands why cats and car engines are likened together. Neil is loud, the sound vibrates through his whole body and into Andrew’s. He can already feel himself relaxing as Neil circles his chest.
The weight of Neil is familiar now, both human and cat, it’s amusing to feel Neil’s careful kneading turn to pure admiration of his pecs. Neil’s obsession with his chest is endlessly rewarding. Though Andrew has no real room to talk considering his relationship with Neil’s thighs.
Neil plops down on with no further ceremony, burying his face into Andrew’s chest as he curls into a perfect circle. The purring gets even louder as Andrew drags a hand up to pet him.
“Junkie,” he mutters, fondness buried in the monotone notes. Neil flicks his tail up in response, nearly hitting Andrew’s nose with it.
He can feel the moment Neil falls asleep because his purr fades into nothing. It’s almost a relief to know he’s sleeping, even though Andrew had considerably different plans for when Neil got back to the dorm. He doesn’t mind derailing it to prioritize Neil’s awful sleeping habits, and maybe for his own enjoyment of Neil’s shift form.
He can admit that he likes being a source of comfort for Neil, that his trust and affection for him is so evident that his favorite place to fall asleep is atop Andrew’s chest, above his heartbeat. Andrew feels himself falling back into sleep, plans to travel early to Columbia halted by Neil’s place on his chest, in his life.
That’s okay though. They have time. They have more than enough time. They have a whole future.