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Shoving the undersized goalkeeper into his own goal, the striker stared red-eyed at the blond, brows screwed tight. His sweat travelled down his forehead and dripped onto the smooth, polished floor. The goal lit red with a familiar buzz, resonating throughout the court—a point for the supposed opposing team. Kevin huffed in annoyance as Andrew lay nonchalantly on the netting of the goal. Kevin shifted his weight, fingers tightening around the racquet. He recalled how he had been mindlessly shooting the rubber balls into the goal while Andrew simply lounged against it, doing nothing. A surge of irritation grew in him.
He wondered why he was even tolerating such behaviour. He was done with turning a blind eye to the goalkeeper. He lifted his racquet, pointing at the fallen with an exasperated look. “What’s the point of you being in the goal if you’re just going to stand there?” He asked, albeit knowing he wouldn’t get much for an answer—one that would satisfy him anyway.
“Try harder.” Andrew shot an accusatory look at Kevin; his usual manic glint was missing.
He looked away and admired his racquet instead, favouring it over the whiny, tall man standing before him. He hooked his fingers through the strings and tugged on them lightly, trying to feel something from the hard lines crisscrossed below his hand. His droopy eyes made it clear he had no interest in continuing the conversation. Frustration seething under his skin, Kevin straightened back into position and got in a striker’s ready stance; the ball sat in the cradle of his racket. He shot forward. The ball veered off its usual path, striking Andrew square in the head with a soft ‘thump!’ before landing back on the ground. Andrew’s busy hand paused on the netting of his racquet, his whole body frozen. The rubber ball rolled towards Kevin’s waiting hand. Andrew slowly turned his head to glance at Kevin, tilting it slightly.
“You missed.” His fingers arched to gesture where the ball rolled to.
“Well, your attention’s back on me.” Kevin shrugged, feigning indifference. He rose and placed the ball back into the cradle, resting the shaft of his racquet on his shoulder. The corners of Kevin’s mouth curved up slightly, barely noticeable.
Andrew stood up instead of piecing together a response, dragging his feet to the centre of the goal. Tipping his head upwards, he gazed at Kevin with a semi-arched brow. A sign of amusement, perhaps. Before Kevin could question anything about it, Andrew got into his ready position, holding his racquet just above and to the right of his head. Kevin’s grin grew wide, and without a second thought, he took a shot at the goal. Andrew hit it back with a Herculean swing. He idly watched the ball fly across the court and bounce off the wall on the other end.
“Satisfied?” He placed his racquet’s head on the floor and rested his two hands on the bottom of the shaft, back arched as if to stretch out. His hands twisted his racquet, making it spin.
“Possibly,” Kevin attempted to hide a smile.
Andrew’s mouth quirked. Of course, Kevin noticed. He always did. But he constantly tried to hide it. Andrew let his racquet drop to the floor. He approached the distracted Kevin, who was staring at the empty seats, deep in the unravelling thoughts in his mind. Without warning, he grasped the neckline of Kevin’s jersey, yanking him down to match his height. That immediately shook Kevin from his inner turmoil, causing him to rubberneck at the blond and tilt his racquet. The ball rolled out and off to somewhere else—an unexpected staring competition. Andrew’s hand tightened on the fabric of his jersey. Eventually, Kevin tried to utter words but was cut off abruptly.
“Yes.” Andrew paused for a while to inhale deeply, shifting his grip on the clothing a little. He fluttered his eyes shut. A long exhale followed. “Or no?” Opening his eyes, he glared at the dumbfounded man in front of him.
Kevin’s lips parted slightly, but no words formed. His fingers twitched on the handle of his racquet, grasping and releasing as if searching for an answer. He did not know what to expect. Saying ‘yes’ felt like teetering on a boundary he should have never stepped across. Saying ‘no’ felt like a lost opportunity for something other than Exy. He had never felt something like this before. Would this be his only chance to find out? He felt Andrew’s patience gradually draining away as his grip on his shirt loosened. He knew he was on the brink of letting him go. He knew he would disregard the question as nothing afterwards. If he did not answer now, he might regret it later on. But if he gave his answer now, it might make him regret it immediately after.
“Yes.” It came out as a mumble. His mouth was faster than his brain. He hoped curiosity would not kill the cat this time.
Andrew tugged him in closer, their noses nearly touching.
Kevin barely had time to register before Andrew pulled him forward and closer, their lips clashing in a heated, breathless moment. His breath hitched, and his body went rigid. His thoughts scrambled, but the sudden warmth of Andrew’s palm flattening on his chest drowned out all of the noise. He shouldn't have been sober for this. A small, shaky sigh slipped out of him as the tension in his shoulders melted away, relinquishing his lips as a silent surrender and an act of desperation. Andrew didn’t hesitate at the opportunity. His tongue brushed against Kevin’s, sending a jolt down the taller’s body, making him squirm at the unexpected sensation. It was bizarre. It was careless. And yet, he didn’t want to pull away.
Before they took away each other’s oxygen, Andrew pulled away from the hot mess standing in his view, freeing the jersey and letting his arm fall back to his side. His usual boredom settled back in. Kevin’s heart raced against his brain; one was processing his emotions, the other was processing his overflowing thoughts. He felt dizzy. He could barely hold himself up, forcing him to crouch and grip his thighs tightly. The striker’s eyes were still wide as he attempted to recollect himself.
Disregarding the kiss as if it never happened, Andrew bent down to toss his racquet into the air and caught it instead of picking it up like normal. He ambled his way back to the centre of the goal, holding his racquet in a ready position. His eyes observed Kevin’s slow recovery. Kevin crouched, fingers closing around his racquet’s handle and the ball. His hands trembled as he straightened, forcing himself into position. He exhaled sharply, bracing for the shot. Andrew seemed unwavering in the face of all this. Kevin risked a shot with a ‘whoosh!’, swinging his racquet with all the energy he could muster at the moment. Unsurprisingly, his attempt strayed and hit the poles instead of the nets.
Andrew snickered. “You missed.” He paused just long enough for it to sting. “Again.”
“Shut up,” Kevin scowled, barely mustering the energy to argue. He was feeble; that shot should not have been flawed—Exy was his forte.
Determined to redeem himself, he picked up another ball from the rolling basket. This time, he positioned himself properly, eyes sharpening as he fixed his aim. Opposite him, Andrew, sensing Kevin's seriousness, braced himself for the incoming shot. Launching the ball into the air, the striker struck it as soon as it reached its peak, aiming for the bottom left corner of the goal. Without waiting for a beat, Andrew, having predicted the trajectory, swung his racquet downward before flicking it up to divert the ball away. Kevin gritted his teeth. He refused to back down until Andrew lost his goal consecutively. Andrew found his behaviour amusing, though showing no sign of being humoured on his face. Seeing Kevin crack was his entertainment. Kevin grabbed another ball and swung at the goal fiercely. Another shot, another swing, another slip—yet he persisted.
…
Neither of them mentioned the kiss. Kevin told himself it did not matter. It did not change anything. Of course not. The way Andrew stood too close to him. The way Kevin kept staring, like an idiot, hoping—dreading—waiting for something else to happen. None of that pestered him. Andrew would not have been bothered in the first place. So, they fell back into their usual routines, playing together as if nothing had happened. And Kevin tried, tried, to believe it.
It may have worked for a while, until he got to a point where he could not stop reminiscing about the memory ingrained into his head—the heat of Andrew’s lips pressed against his abdomen. Although Exy will always be first, Andrew’s kiss crawled its way up his list. Even during practice with the rest of the Foxes, his mind drifted elsewhere. He was not paying as much attention as usual to the scrimmages unfolding before him. Coach Wymack, standing at the sidelines, noticed his stare diverting to Andrew more than once. He pinched his nose bridge in frustration (but, in actuality, concern). Raising his palm, he banged on the plexiglass walls to halt scrimmages. Every Fox stopped in their movements and spun to look at their coach.
“Kevin Day, get your ass over here!” Wymack shouted, making sure the striker could hear him loud and clear. The frozen Kevin started moving his feet promptly, Andrew tailing behind him while swinging his racquet around casually. Wymack opened the door to let them out of the court before slamming his fist onto the plexiglass walls to instruct the Foxes to proceed. Renee took over Andrew’s spot in a jiffy. Propping himself against the cement wall, Andrew allowed Kevin and Wymack to speak; his eyes were closed, comfortable with solely listening from the sidelines.
Kevin’s stare lingered on Andrew. Wymack sighed, “You’ve been distracted.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Sorry, coach,” Kevin mumbled, switching his attention to look at the older man across him. Wymack drummed his fingers against his biceps while he was thinking. Kevin’s eyes were fixed on his tapping fingers as he waited for Wymack to give a response.
“Because of him?” Wymack waved his fingers in Andrew's general direction. He knew Kevin would never admit it, but it never hurt to try. Kevin’s mouth pressed into a hard line. His gaze drifted off to the opposite side of Andrew. Wymack knew he was right. He always was.
“No, coach,” Kevin outright lied. He hoped Wymack would not pry any further.
And Wymack derisively snorted upon hearing that. “Whatever it is, do something about it.” He was not the best at confrontations, but as long as the message is delivered, that will do.
Kevin’s gaze flicked upwards to look Wymack in the eyes. “Yes, coach.” He then turned his focus to the Foxes in action.
Noticing the long silence, Andrew familiarised himself with the light. A reproachful look from his coach was shot his way. He lightly shrugged off the accusation with a smile and a flick of his fingers. He concluded Kevin remained where he was from the start until the end. Inferring from the silence, the conversation had ended, and he decided to head to the showers instead of going back to scrimmages, dragging Kevin forcefully along with him by his jersey to make him follow. Kevin kept muttering to himself as they walked to the locker room, and Andrew blocked out all of the noise.
Up until he had had enough, he articulated, “Stop.” That effectively knocked Kevin right out of his thoughts and put a stop to all of his murmurs.
“What?” Andrew could not tell if he was faking it or if he genuinely did not hear a thing he said. He hated this crass man.
“Stop thinking,” He reiterated and sneered.
Kevin stared foolishly at the short man. “It was your fault.” He stated the obvious (to him anyway).
Andrew rolled his eyes at the words. An unamused look on his face. “Holding the wrong person accountable.” He grabbed his clean clothes, soap, and towel. “Try condemning your brain.” He laconically suggested. He grabbed similar items for Kevin from locker #2 before chucking the items at him. Out of instinct, Kevin caught everything. His expression remained blank. Andrew dropped his clothes onto a bench nearby before heading into one of the shower stalls, turning the shower tap to let the water drench him.
“This is on you.” Kevin's similar words did not make him budge as he scrubbed his body clean from the sweat. “My thoughts wouldn’t have fired up if you didn’t ask the dichotomous question.” Kevin continued. “Or maybe I was culpable, I was the one who said ‘yes’...” Mumbled words came out of Kevin’s mouth.
Andrew picked up on most of the words to form a proper and logical sentence. Letting the water run from his head to toe, he asked with his eyes shut, “So, expectations?” No response. “A treaty as a solution?” He followed up instead.
Kevin stayed silent, which was odd, but why would Andrew care? He did not find a point to continue the conversation anyway. He wrapped his towel around his waist as he walked out of the stall, hair wet and dripping onto the floor. Reticently, Kevin sat on the bench, his towel and clothes still clutched in his hands. His face remained blank and distant as his gaze redirected to stare at Andrew.
“The treaty doesn’t sound like a bad notion.” Kevin’s words replaced Andrew’s bored countenance with a hardly conspicuous nonplussed expression. “You were the one who suggested it in the first place, so I think you should–”
“Yes or no?” Andrew’s words stopped Kevin from speaking any further. The raven-haired man knew what to expect this time, and he took serious consideration while teetering on the responses in his head. However, hearing the familiar words made his heart race in anticipation, and his brain went all over the place. Patiently, Andrew waited for his agreement or disagreement, his fingers tapping against his towel, creating soft, rhythmic ‘thumps’.
“Yes.” Kevin bit his lip. The response was not meant to slip out so quickly. He was frantic about sounding forlorn to the blond. Oh, well, too late to take it back now.
Nothing mattered to Andrew, especially not this. He grabbed the hem of Kevin’s jersey to pull him into a dry stall and pushed him against the wall. He expertly twisted the knob of the door to lock and turned back to look at the tall man. “No touching.” He threatened before yanking Kevin into a kiss by grabbing his jersey’s neckline once again, giving no time for Kevin to process his words. Compliantly (and after cognition), Kevin kept his hands to himself, taking hold of nothing on the slippery tiled walls. Andrew hummed at the other’s obedience. He liked it whenever Kevin was hushed. One of his hands reached for Kevin’s shorts, tugging them down along with his jock strap. The blunt action made Kevin choke on a moan, the sound muffled by Andrew’s lips on his.
…
A pale hand crashed into his left hand, sinking deeper and deeper, twisting harder and harder. His body jolted at the sudden pain, his face scrunched up; His eyes were squeezed shut as he let out a shrill scream of plea. But Riko Moriyama held a smile as he showed no signs of stopping. Kevin could not endure. Riko struck his hand again. Kevin was helpless. Riko grabbed his shirt and pulled him up.
“Open your eyes and take a look.”
Kevin was unwilling. He pursed his lips as he sucked in his breath.
“You know what happens if I repeat myself, 2.”
And Kevin’s cowardice forced his eyes open to look at the damage. His hand was twitching. His body was trembling. His eyes were flooded with tears. Exy was the only thing he had ever had—he lost everything.
He choked on his breath. The surroundings shifted into a brighter and more colourful place, contrasting with the dark and gloomy room he was in just a moment ago. He was lying on top of his bed. This was not the Nest. He was no longer in the Nest. But his head was still screaming for alcohol to numb the pain that was long gone. His eyes stared at his semi-healed hand.
Distraction. He needed a distraction. Desperate hands reached around for the familiar bottle. His body flinched at the sound of thudding wood. Footsteps. His air circulation was cut off. He could not breathe all of a sudden. His chest felt heavy. His head was spinning. His eyes were blurred. His ears were ringing.
A bottle was shoved into his chest. Vodka? His eyes could not decipher what it was, but he still scrambled to twist the cap open and immediately chugged it down, letting the liquid assimilate into his system. Finishing half of the bottle calmed him down. He could breathe again. His mind emptied. Tilting his head up, he noticed Andrew looking blankly at him, an eyebrow quirked. He wanted answers for his silent questions.
“Nightmare,” Kevin stated. “Nest. Riko. My hand.” He slurred out. He shivered at his own words. Mentioning Riko was unnecessary; Andrew already knew about it.
Andrew rolled his eyes. Kevin felt it. He stared mindlessly at Andrew’s armbands.
“How about we make a deal?” His stare shot up at Andrew’s face.
“A deal?”
“In exchange for protection, you give me something to live for when I'm off my meds.” Kevin’s immediate answer was Exy. Andrew was highly likely to know it was Exy, too.
Kevin did not need long to make a decision. “Deal.” Andrew hummed at his response, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his armband. For a moment, all one could hear was both of their breaths and the soft thumps from Andrew’s fingers’ movements.
“Can I kiss you?” blurted Kevin. Andrew froze, locking eyes with the raven-haired man.
Hues of red and pink took over Kevin’s face. His mouth spoke faster than his brain could process it. It was too late to take it back now. Hiding all of Andrew’s emotions was his usual blank face. Kevin wanted to decipher what he was feeling behind this emotionless mask. Before his thoughts could overwhelm him, Andrew pulled him closer to him, his mouth welcoming Kevin’s.
…
Crowds screamed, cheered, and whooped as the Trojans battled against Penn State, split in rooting for their teams. Kevin sank into his chair, eyeing the laptop before him to binge on past Trojan games again: his routine when he had nothing better to do, especially after practice. His eyes were fixated on each move performed by the Trojans, mumbling out the following action they’ll act upon as he had watched these games multiple times prior. He occasionally slammed his fist down on the table while gritting his teeth whenever Jeremy threw away a great opportunity like it was nothing, as if he didn’t expect it to occur in the first place.
A loud ‘bang!’ reverberated across the walls, indicating that Andrew was back. The wooden frame of the door collided with the wall, opening wide, before creaking by itself to close. Andrew’s footsteps were barely heard over the crowd's clamour from the laptop speakers, Penn State’s goal buzzing resoundingly, signalling another goal for the Trojans. Kevin was not distracted; his eyes remained on the screen, hardly noticing or acknowledging his return. Andrew approached him with casual strides, stopping close to the raven-haired man with his hands in his pockets. He peered over his shoulder to look at the match briefly.
“Trojans’ll score on the next point.” That jolted Kevin’s attention away instantly. He whirled his head to look at the blond, his index finger searching for the spacebar on his keyboard to pause the video. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed into a squint. A look of confusion and surprise.
“Why do you know?” He asked, nonplussed. He glanced at Andrew’s face, finding new blue and purple spots scattered across his cheek and chin, some even reaching his neck. Flicking his gaze upwards, he noticed his slicked-back wet fringe. He knew for a fact that he had just come back from his and Renee’s usual sparring session. Not to mention, he smelled like cigarettes as usual.
Andrew ignored his observing eyes and scoffed in response. Raising a finger, he tapped the side of his forehead twice. “You know that, too.”
“No, yeah, obviously, but—” Kevin grumbled as Andrew spun the chair around and grabbed Kevin by his cheeks, squishing them a little.
“Yes or no?” Andrew asked with his same old bored look, as if he were not asking a question that made Kevin’s heart race. Kevin stared wide-eyed at Andrew. His lips pressed into a hard, thin line. He knew he would fail in not sounding desperate. He knew every time he said yes, he would reminisce about it afterwards. He knew regret would eat him up sooner or later. His stomach fluttered with butterflies as he pondered what Andrew would do to him.
“You know what my answer is.” Kevin attempted to look unimpressed—he failed miserably.
“So, a no?” Andrew raised his eyebrow, giving a beat for the other to respond. Kevin’s throat tightened. He wanted to say something, but his tongue felt heavy. Across from him, Andrew just waited, expression unreadable. When he took too long, Andrew relaxed his fist, letting Kevin fall back into his chair. Andrew was a cruel, aloof man. Kevin knew this, but he wanted more.
“Tick tock, Kevin.” Andrew’s voice was bored.
“No, I mean, yes. But like, yes to your—” Andrew’s soft lips crashed onto his. He kissed back. This man never let him finish his sentences. Future Kevin can complain about that someday, but not now, definitely not in this moment.
The hot breath against his skin made his whole body tingle. Andrew pushed a hand onto his chest, neither gentle nor rough. Kevin could not believe how he always folded so easily under Andrew’s touch. He kept his hands where they were, grasping tightly on his thighs so as not to reach for Andrew without permission. Andrew flicked a glance at his hands. He broke away from the kiss and guided Kevin out of the chair to his bed. Kevin obediently obliged, sitting on the soft comforter.
Andrew stared at him for a while. Tugging at his hair, he said, "Only here." Kevin nodded in understanding before slowly reaching upwards to grab at his hair. Andrew froze for a moment, but he did not flinch away. Kevin took that as a green light, so he held on. He murmured an ‘Okay?’, hoping the other heard it. He was gentle with his grasp, ensuring his fingers were not too deep into the strands. He noticed Andrew releasing the tension in his shoulders and dipping his head down slightly. Andrew was getting used to the feeling. Both ends of Kevin’s lips curved up a little upon concluding that.
“Staring,” Andrew stated before pushing Kevin down onto his back, placing a hand next to his head to steady himself. He placed his lips on the other’s again. Kevin gripped the blond curls a little tighter at the unexpected action. He did not have the time to marvel a little longer at how Andrew relaxed under his grip, nor even a moment to respond to him. Instead, he shrugged the thoughts aside and kissed him back. It was a better decision to enjoy the sensation while it was happening.
Kevin had to pull away from the kiss this time, and Andrew let him. They stared at one another. Kevin’s eyes were wide, Andrew’s eyes were half-lidded; Kevin’s were full of admiration, Andrew’s were full of annoyance.
“This is nothing.” Andrew’s words wiped the look off of Kevin’s face and replaced it with puzzlement.
Andrew prodded Kevin’s chest, then his own. “This is nothing,” He reiterated. Kevin just gazed blankly. Nothing? Nothing… His eyebrows furrowed. ‘Is this really nothing?’ He would never get an answer. He knew that was irrefutable. So for now, he could only take note of that in his head.
“What’s it gonna be, Kevin?” Andrew’s voice was bored. Kevin expected that. Perhaps Andrew knew what Kevin was feeling. Perhaps he did not and just felt the need to ask again. Kevin felt stumped, stupid, solemn, whatever words could describe his current feelings. But how could he say no? He would regret his ‘yes’ or ‘no’ afterwards, either way. It was bound to happen. He knew Andrew would immediately stop and step away if he said ‘no’. He knew Andrew would pretend none of this ever happened. He knew Andrew would let him go back to watching the Trojans.
Feeling defeated, an inaudible “Yes” was murmured out. Kevin had his eyes closed shut, making him miss the way Andrew’s eyebrow twitched. He was relieved when he felt a pair of lips on his once again. He felt like he could breathe again (although his breath was being taken away instead).
He hoped this could last forever, even if it remained ‘nothing’ forevermore.
…
‘Nothing’. What did the word mean to Andrew? What they have been doing was more than merely ‘nothing’. Kevin never understood him. Honestly, he hated the term. What did he despise more? Himself. Obviously. He fell for the short man. He never believed there would be a day when he liked something—someone—other than Exy. The ‘nothing’ they held between them made him more gullible to fall into the trap Andrew intentionally set up. Perhaps he liked the other because of his immaculate and effortless goalie skills. Exy could always be a factor in affecting his feelings, right?
He had always pondered how Andrew viewed their dynamic and relationship. Would he even consider them as friends? Was Kevin merely viewed as a teammate he had to put up with? But who in their right mind would pull off such activities with someone who was simply a teammate? Kevin had more questions than those in the back of his head. When and why did he decide all this was a good idea? He flicked his hand around, speaking to no one but himself. Did Andrew use him for the sole purpose of getting off? His eyes widened at his own words. What thoughts went through his head whenever they… He smacked the side of his head before his mind could finish the question.
Practice. He was practising. He should go back to focusing on Exy and practice.
…
Neil Josten—5 feet 3 inches, brunet, brown eyes, sported in shaggy and worn-out clothes; basic, but somehow he was a person with so much potential, so much. Kevin knew of it—he saw it with his own eyes. As he was deep in thought of the upcoming practices with Neil, Andrew whacked Neil in the stomach with his racquet unexpectedly. A loud ‘thwack!’ followed. Ouch. Perhaps Andrew did not approve of the man. But it was not like his opinion mattered—he was Kevin’s choice. Ergo, Kevin brought Neil onto the team in the end.
The ‘nothing’ between Andrew and Kevin stopped for a bit (to be honest, it was much longer than a bit, but no one has to acknowledge that). Kevin chose to ignore his thoughts and, in lieu thereof, kept practising with Neil. Andrew was always in his peripheral vision, sitting on the sidelines and smoking while watching mindlessly. Why did he always choose to come with but never want to join them? Kevin knew the answer somewhere in his mind. He had made multitudinous attempts to persuade the man to join, but all of them failed, and instead ended with him getting a blank stare if he was lucky, or getting choked against a wall if he was unlucky.
At the very least, Andrew was still driving him (and Neil) to the court for practice. But ever since Neil came along, he, in some way, sparked Andrew’s interest in partaking in their practice session. That was unexpected, irritating. Andrew had always rejected Kevin’s invites. Andrew had always waved his hand in dismissal. The practice session ended up as a Kevin versus Andrew moment. Kevin was, essentially, unleashing his pent-up emotions as he shot at the goal nonstop and vigorously; Andrew was deflecting the balls with such ease that it made Kevin look weak. It had always been like this. Neil watched silently on the side. Kevin pushed him away from his thoughts and focused on the target ahead of him.
Never-ending thoughts niggled and squeezed their way into Kevin’s head whenever he saw the auburn and blond within the same space.
It irked him.
His stomach twisted with every second that passed.
They looked so good together.
Was he bothering them?
Was he in the way?
He knew he should not, must not , be perturbed by this. There were things far more important than the ‘nothing’ he and Andrew had shared. Exy would always be his priority. He knew that by his gut, his heart, and his instinct. ‘Be thankful,’ he reminded himself. ‘Be thankful that you are being protected from the Moriyamas.’ He sighed and turned around, a hand clutching tightly to his chest.
Andrew had been flicking stares at Neil, and Neil’s attention lingered on Andrew at times; these occurred whenever the other fell out of one’s sight for a prolonged period. Kevin noticed the looks. He did not comment. He chose not to say a word about it. But the thought of him never receiving this type of treatment started eating his brain the more he observed over time. He didn’t know why he felt like this. This was unlike him. Very unlike him.
Andrew had been smoking on the roof, tolerating Neil joining him. They chatted along well, which was what Kevin assumed anyway. It was not like he could actually confirm that. He had never been to the roof before, not even once. But why did Neil need to associate with Andrew? He was not a smoker, not that Kevin knew of. Everything was just so confusing. Andrew was messing with him. Neil was messing with him. Definitely. Kevin slammed a fist down onto the wooden table.
A theory popped up in his head one day: the ambiguous man had piqued Andrew’s interest somehow. He had once gained his appeal, too. Does that mean Andrew no longer finds him intriguing anymore? His eyes widened at the realisation. He hoped, prayed, begged that it was an erroneous guess. Taking a swig of his usual vodka, it flow down his throat smoothly. It burned like usual. That was always nice.
Leaving Neil and Andrew alone was what he should be doing. He knew it was for the better.
…
Neil Josten—still 5 feet 3 inches and still wearing his usual, ragged clothes. But there were a few things that were different: he was ginger and had blue eyes. ‘Nathaniel’. Kevin knew who he truly was, but that did not matter when his potential remained to be seen. Kevin still nurtured and cultivated Neil’s skills with every ounce of effort he could put in.
“Will you still teach me?” Neil asked.
Kevin was quiet, but not for long. “Every night.”
This man should be Court in the future. He knew it by heart. Andrew remained on the sidelines, waiting, eyelids closed so he could rest. Kevin missed the ‘nothing’ they had shared. But he understood Neil's attractive qualities. Whatever. Exy was first—always and forever.
The Nest was an unwelcoming place, but Neil was insistent on going for the sake of Andrew. Kevin knew about it. He let him go. It was obvious that he could not stop a persistent man like Neil. Andrew was going to kill him when he returned from the rehabilitation centre, for protecting a person who did not want it. It was something Neil would not be able to avoid. But Kevin had a feeling Neil knew that and still decided to go anyway. If he were in Neil’s shoes, he doubted that he would do the same for Andrew. Who in their right mind would return to the Nest after escaping it? Certainly, not Kevin. Perhaps that was why Andrew had chosen Neil over him.
Neil came back with a ‘4’ stained into his cheek, right where Kevin’s ‘2’ is, and Andrew returned as well, indicating his anticipated liberation from his medications. Kevin wanted this. The deal between Kevin and Andrew was not going to break after this. He was going to make sure of it. Upon noticing the battered Neil, Andrew was furious, directing his anger right at Kevin. Kevin was expecting it from the start. Unfortunately, there was no escape route.
After Baltimore, Neil had everyone confirm their bets. Andrew was holding Neil down by his neck, and everyone was merely staring at the scene unfolding in front of them. Everyone was worried about Neil, but some had already started exchanging their money. Kevin held his bruised neck as he frowned at the two on the ground. Participating in the bet was unnecessary; he did not need the extra cash anyway.
The Foxes had won against the Ravens in the finals. Riko had died by suicide, which was what the media was told. Neil later confirmed that he died at Ichirou’s hands while the Foxes were all sitting in front of the television. Kevin was finally safe from the Moriyamas, somewhat. Did this indicate the end of their deal? The question bothered him. He wanted to experience all his first times with Andrew Minyard. He wanted to show Andrew Minyard the joys of Exy. He wanted to give Andrew Minyard a reason to live. Could he not have been the reason instead?—But he could never bring himself to hate Neil Josten.
…
As he lay on his bed, letting an Exy match play on his laptop, the same thought dug its way into his head. The deal he had with Andrew: had he already fulfilled it? Did Neil not become something—someone—for Andrew to live for? It was not Exy in the end, and perhaps Andrew had a feeling about that from the start.
—~—
Returning to his dorm, Kevin stumbled upon Andrew alone at his usual napping spot: the beanbag; Neil was nowhere to be found in the room. Maybe he was hanging out with the upperclassmen next door. Kevin sat down on the sofa next to Andrew, hand reaching for the remote before hesitating for a moment. Andrew was not asleep. With a huff, Kevin sank into the sofa and got comfortable instead.
“How are things with Neil?” The words slipped out accidentally. It broke the silence. That was not meant to be said aloud and to remain in his thoughts.
The blond rustled and turned around to face the raven. “There is no ‘thing’. What we have is nothing.” Andrew said with his usual dryness. Hearing the word made Kevin wince a little.
“Just like what you defined us as, huh?” Andrew was glaring at Kevin. But Kevin only hoped Andrew picked up on the use of the past tense. The conversation was getting dangerous—it was treading a certain line, a boundary never discussed. Kevin could not be doing this sober. He wanted to walk to his room and boot up his laptop for an Exy match to avoid the conversation he started unintentionally. Or he could go practise instead. Honestly, practice sounded really good right then and there.
“It was nothing.” Andrew finally responded. He was firm about his opinions. What he had with Neil could not have been ‘nothing’; what he had with Kevin back then could not have been ‘nothing’ either! Kevin just stared stupidly at the minuscule man. The seat he sat on was no longer as cosy as the moment he lay on it. He felt his body tense up, and his hands were itching for something to hold onto—a bottle of sorts. He did not want to bask in his own emotions sober. His heart was racing; his right eyelid fluttered once—Alcohol. He wanted… he needed vodka.
Andrew was as quiet as usual, as unreadable as usual, as dull as usual. “Tch.” That brought an end to the silence. The sound looped in his ear. Thoughts were overwhelming his head. His eyebrows twitched. A bottle of vodka was thrown into his lap, jolting him out of his reverie. He lifted his head, looking at the standing man. When did he get up? Andrew was holding back a grimace. Out of instinct, Kevin’s hand was already twisting open the bottle cap, bringing the opened bottle up to his mouth.
Vodka was always trustworthy at numbing his feelings. Truly a saviour time after time. He knew Vodka perpetually had his back! He would have dug himself deeper and deeper into his hole as his breakdown worsened and grew over time. Andrew had seen that before. He probably hated witnessing that. The thought made his heart ache for a brief moment. He grumbled to himself as he took another swig.
The blond stared at the desperate man as he imbibed large volumes of liquid each time. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp—the bottle drained fast. Andrew sneaked out and returned with a second and third bottle. A second one for Kevin, one for Andrew himself. He placed one of the bottles next to Kevin. The man did not show any signs of acknowledgement and reached for it blindly, abandoning the quickly emptied bottle to drop onto the floor. A twist, a pull, and the liquid was easily accessible. Andrew sat down with a creak from the chair. His fingers skillfully turned open the bottle cap with ease, fiddling with it for a while as he took a sip of his whiskey.
As the booze settled into his body, he slurred out some words. “I don’t think you viewed it as nothing.”
Saying that out loud while his brain was all drowsy and high was facile. They stopped Andrew from taking in another taste of alcohol. Kevin had already finished his second bottle; it landed with a ‘thud!’ right next to the first one. He had wanted to express that a long time ago, but his anxiety and self-esteem always stopped him before he did anything reckless. The words would have meant nothing to Andrew anyway.
“You’re drunk.” Andrew simply stated. His throat felt dry, albeit he had just swallowed liquid.
A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. Andrew knew that. Merely a chuckle fell out of Kevin’s mouth, followed by a soft ‘hic!’. His brain was too fuzzy to decipher whatever was around him.
Blink. Andrew took a swig of his whiskey. He brought a bottle for himself? Blink. His vision started to blur. But he wanted to look at Andrew for a little longer. Blink. He could see stars. Blink. Light-headedness was getting to him. Blink. Reality started to fade out. Blink. His eyes felt heavier than before. All he heard was a groan and a squeak before his vision fully blacked out and his brain forced every thought to die off for the night.
…
Sometimes, there were days spent where all three of them were together, whether in complete silence or drenched in sweat while on the court. They could be sitting on the couch, Kevin and Neil watching Exy matches as Andrew lay on his usual beanbag in an attempt to sleep, or maybe he just wanted to not look at the screen. They could be at The Foxhole Court: Andrew swinging back the balls shot in his direction, Kevin and Neil going through Raven drills intensely. Those were the moments Kevin cherished; times when he was not excluded.
He craved for more of those moments; his heart ached as his thoughts spiralled into similar situations—spending time with them made him feel… weird and oddly familiar. It reminded him of a time when he was young, in the Nest, stuck alongside Riko Moriyama. Riko felt like a brother at some point. He looked up to him. Or maybe it was not brotherly affection after all.
Riko was his first love, or perhaps not. He never understood his actual thoughts about the man. But he was sure about falling in love with Exy at the first touch of a racquet. Anyway, both of them had spent a lot of time with each other, especially on the court. They were strikers after all, so they constantly worked together to score a goal. A hierarchy system was built into the Nest. When they were freshmen, they were treated high-handedly. Riko always whispered in Japanese, “When I become captain, I’ll take any measures to make sure this never happens to you again. I’ll make sure of it.” Kevin was not fluent in Japanese then, but he learned and understood enough to know what the other meant. His heart fluttered as he nodded subtly, grateful for having Riko by his side.
Those were the good old days. Kevin never got to figure out his feelings for pre-captain Riko. But, oh well. That no longer mattered.
…
Kevin woke up with a jolt and was greeted by a throbbing headache. Dreaming of Riko after escaping the Nest for so long was unexpected. There were more things to deal with than that. He sat up, lifting his blanket and pushing it aside. A bottle of whiskey sat on the table in front of him. It was as if someone had snapped their fingers, causing a sudden inflow of the memories of last night. His heart started beating out of his chest, droplets of sweat rolled down his back, mouth formed into a grimace. His blanket was gripped tightly under his hands.
Taking measured breaths in an attempt to calm himself down, he heard footsteps outside his room. They sounded like Neil’s. His breathing paused. He did not want Neil to see him in such a panicked state. Immediately getting up from the bed, he rushed his way to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection: dark eye bags, bed head, and dull green eyes were staring back. His head was buried in his raised right hand.
Someone rapped on the bedroom door. “Kevin?” Neil’s voice called out.
Kevin remained silent.
There was no follow-up from Neil.
…
All the Foxes gathered at the court, swiftly changing and stretching out, preparing for their scrimmage. Kevin was standing opposite where Neil and Andrew were. A conclusion popped up in his head: they were two puzzle pieces that unexpectedly fit. Wymack’s voice dismayed him. He turned his attention to his coach instantly.
Practice progressed the same as usual, except for one oddity. Kevin was quiet and uncharacteristic. No remarks on anyone’s performance during the scrimmage, slow response to everyone, and avoiding eye contact—specifically with Andrew and Neil. None of the Foxes said anything about his odd behaviour. They continued with their practice as if nothing was wrong.
Scrimmages ended earlier that day. As Kevin walked out of the bathroom, fresh from a much-needed shower, Wymack stopped him in his tracks. “Kevin. You know you can talk to me.” It was customary for Coach Wymack not to stay silent.
“I’m alright.” Kevin gritted out before walking out of the court.
Andrew’s car was parked right outside, and Neil was approaching it. Kevin would appreciate his usual car ride back, but today was not the day. He took a detour and approached Matt’s car instead. Matt swiftly welcomed him into his car with a grin, and so he sat in the back quietly next to Allison. The rest of them chatted away as he stayed taciturn on their way back to the dorms. He shook his head at Renee, trying to dismiss her concern. Renee frowned before conversing with the others again.
…
It took longer to get back to their dorms than Kevin was used to. Some of them wanted to buy some snacks, so they had to make a pit stop at a convenience store. Kevin remained in the car and waited patiently. All of them made it back to the dormitory eventually. Kevin returned to his room after thanking Matt. Upon inspection, he noticed two people lying on the beanbag that Andrew liked resting on. Andrew and Neil were snuggled up to each other as they rested comfortably on the small beanbag. Kevin’s stomach folded as he took in the scene, his heart twitched, and his mouth contorted into a frown. They looked so cosy with each other. Would the beanbag even fit a third? He froze in place as that thought niggled at him. How could he think of that? How could he think that they would even accept a third? Especially the third being him? Dumbfounding, truly. What was wrong with him?
The familiar sensation of Andrew’s lips resurfaced and lingered on his lips. What the hell, Kevin? Thinking about this while standing in front of them was unwarranted. Sober up, Kevin Day! You have not even drunk a single drop of alcohol today! He strode to his room.
—~—
The Foxhole Court was getting a fresh paint job, forcing the Foxes to go to the fitness centre to train for a while instead.
Neil was running circles around the outside of the centre, Andrew was squatting and deadlifting, while Kevin attempted to focus on working on his forearms despite the existing distractions. It was not easy, truly. Andrew’s thighs were bulging, and Kevin just could not look away at all. It was truly a sight to see. He even noticed Neil staring at Andrew, too, whenever he came back for a water break or when he finished one lap. As Neil ran, Kevin’s gaze lingered on his moving legs. He never did this willingly. He swore his eyes were merely itching to stare at something as he worked out. Or at least that was what he was telling himself to convince his brain of the fact that this was borderline creepy behaviour. But, anyway, none of that matters when the blond and the auburn were such eye candy. He could not get his eyes off of both of them. He could not continue his reps at his normal pace either. He was conscientiously trying to avoid them as much as possible.
Staring at them specifically was unusual. It was not as if Andrew and Neil were looking back at him. Andrew lost interest in Kevin long ago, and Neil never seemed too fond of Kevin. He shook his head and blinked hard in an attempt to get out of his thoughts. Lifting his head, he noticed Andrew’s eyes on him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly at the raven-haired man. Truly unexpected. Kevin widened his eyes at his observation, whipping his head away to look at anything else surrounding him, holding back a gasp. Andrew reminded him of Riko—the familiar look he gave Kevin long ago. The weights he held felt extraordinarily heavy at that moment, and his hands were shaking; breathing suddenly became a difficult task, and a ringing sound was perennial in his ears.
“Yes or no?” Andrew. Kevin could not speak. Struggling, he tried to nod, hoping Andrew caught it. A conversant weight on his neck stopped the tinnitus. “Breathe.” He did not know when he closed his eyes, but he was fluttering them open. Seeing the miniature blond instead of a raven in his peripheral vision sent a rush of relief through his body. Riko was in the Nest. Kevin was in Palmetto. He was far away from the Ravens. None of them would be able to make it without a flight or a 5-hour drive.
Deep inhale. Hold. Slow exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Kevin mumbled out a soft ‘thanks’ as Andrew released his neck. Neil appeared next to Kevin with a bottle of water, handing it to him. He never realised when he was done with his laps. He accepted the bottle with silent gratitude, twisting the cap open before drinking the water.
“Pick a struggle.” Andrew huffed. Kevin felt the eye roll, although he was not looking at the man. Maybe Andrew did apprehend his staring. He chose not to respond. Neil let a chuckle fall out of his mouth.
“You’re not unaccounted for either.” Kevin snickered at Andrew’s quick-witted response, and Neil pressed his lips together to form a line.
Kevin knew it was for the best if he stayed away from them. But it was truly irresistible.
…
Kevin was sitting in his bed, staring at a blank wall in front of him. “I quite literally confessed to you months ago, and I still don't know how to deal with it. How can you have said nothing about it?” He frowned. “And just recently I realised I…” He paused, a grimace forming. “I like Neil too. I think so anyway. What the hell am I supposed to do? No one can help me through this. I feel like a literal outsider whenever I'm around both of you. Jealousy was never fired up in me, and instead, I had only felt the need to distance myself, which sounded like a fantastic idea in my head! Wow, Kevin. You are such a genius! Wallowing in your sorrows and not saying anything about it to anyone! Props to you. Cheers!” Kevin drunkenly raised the bottle of vodka before taking a swig, drinking up every last drop. He clutched onto the emptied bottle.
“Cease thy dramatics,” Andrew said as he walked in, waving his hand around in dismissal. He had an unamused look on his face. Neil was tailing right behind him, snickering at the blond’s words.
Kevin tilted his head backwards, letting his body slide down the bedrest. Dread was crawling upon him. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. Both of them knew now. What else could he do? At least he was inebriated. Neil and Andrew stood near the bed, but out of reach of Kevin. Deafening silence sealed the room. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Kevin could only hear the throbbing sounds in his ears. Biting the insides of his cheeks, he realised his lips were getting dry. He licked them. Both of them exchanged looks.
“We will talk.” Andrew pierced the silence. Kevin’s eyebrows twisted into a furrow as he squeezed the drained bottle tighter.
“When you’re sober.” Neil clarified with a flick of his hand. “Hopefully by morning,” he murmured.
Giving a stony stare blankly to the two, Kevin mumbled an ‘okay’—which came out sounding like a croak. There was no point in saying no. He barely even wanted to talk at that moment. Pleased, Andrew turned and left the room with Neil following close behind. Kevin’s throat felt dry. He needed to hydrate, but indolence was creeping up on him.
…
Morning birds tweeted cheerily outside as the sun slowly rose with its ever-blinding blaze. Its rays peeked through the blinds in Kevin’s room. Kevin groaned when he felt the heat and light on his face. Remembering something from the prior night, he sat up in his bed, and his eyes widened. It would not be too late to get the sobriety out of him right now. Sluggishly, he pulled himself to the bathroom to freshen up and ponder his options.
Pancakes and bacon, distinct smells Kevin had noticed upon leaving his room. Andrew was flipping pancakes; Neil was staring at the blond from where he sat. His attention turned to Kevin when he heard a door closing, gesturing to Kevin to take a seat in front of him. He should have just slept in. With slow steps, he approached the table, tolerating Neil’s following stare. Truly, his staring problem should be researched.
Andrew brought the pancakes over as Kevin sat down, distributing the amount accordingly onto three plates. Neil reached out for the maple syrup first, squeezing out an adequate amount for his pancakes before passing it to Andrew. Andrew had settled down next to Neil, taking the bottle and lathering the syrup on his plate. Kevin hated seeing the amount he wanted on his pancakes. It was such an absurdity each time. He frequently wondered how he had never felt sick from the saccharin. Feeling satisfied, he plopped the bottle in front of Kevin without looking at him. The corner of Kevin’s mouth twitched. In an attempt to disregard, he poured the maple syrup gradually, making sure it flowed evenly to each piece.
“Go on.” Andrew’s words froze Kevin in place. He was never bound to escape this conversation anyway. He capped the bottle of syrup and placed it on the table.
“What do you want me to say?” He asked, trying to drag out the time slightly.
No response from either one of them. Instead, Andrew was chowing down his food, two bites of pancakes and one bite of bacon, such calculated methods of eating only Andrew would pull off. On the other hand, Neil was devouring all of the pancakes and bacon, leaving sticky syrup and grease all around his mouth.
“I miss the nothing we had.” And Neil stood up to head to the sinks to clean his empty plate.
A beat passed, and the silence flowed back when Neil turned off the running tap water. Kevin looked back down at his plate of untouched food. His hands reached for the fork and knife on the table. As he cut into the pancakes, Neil returned, sitting next to Kevin in lieu of his original seat. Kevin sent a sideways glance before taking his first bite. Neil tilted his head, a look of innocence plastered on his face. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked. Kevin felt his breath taken away from him. Andrew swallowed his final bite of food before pushing his plate aside, staring directly at the raven-haired man with an intention Kevin was not aware of.
“Yes or no?”
Kevin’s eyes gaped, and he pursed his lips, whipping his head up to gaze at Andrew—his eyes were fixed on his lips. He flicked his gaze up to look directly into Kevin’s eyes. He asked right in front of Neil. Did Neil not mind this at all? Kevin turned to look at Neil, who was staring right at him, showing no signs of disapproval or dissent. Thump. Thump. Thump. He felt his heart was about to burst.
“Yes,” he said, focusing back on Andrew. The corner of Andrew’s mouth curved up slightly, almost gone unnoticed by Kevin if he was not staring at the other man’s lips. With a tug at his collar, Kevin was pulled into a kiss across the table. It felt phantasmagoric kissing the short blond again after such a long time. He forgot how heavenly Andrew’s mouth felt on his own. His whole face was flushed and flustered. Neil was gawking, not disrupting, nor questioning any of it. Kevin’s body shivered at the thought of Neil’s everlasting stare. A whine escaped as Andrew pulled away. He never wanted it to end.
“My turn?” Neil asked with a cheeky grin. Andrew let go of Kevin’s shirt and motioned with his hand, telling Neil to go ahead. Neil immediately grabbed Kevin’s cheeks and turned his head, leaning close enough for the tips of their noses to touch. Kevin took a while to get the memo. A soft ‘yes’ was said before Neil cut him off with his second kiss of the morning. The kiss felt different from the one he shared with Andrew. It was less hasty and more careful instead. All of this felt like a dream. Was he dreaming? He was running out of breath. He had to pull away. He opened his eyes and saw Neil frowning. Perhaps he was upset at how the kiss was cut short.
“Is there such a thing as too early for alcohol?” He mumbled out, head still high on the two kisses. He dug his face into the palm of his hands.
“Finish your breakfast first.” Andrew simply said as he stood, carrying his dirty plate and cutlery to the basin. Neil chortled.
…
“What a coward,” Riko said with exaggerated disappointment. “Just like his mother.”
Neil stopped counting.
“You know, I get it,” Neil said. “Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you’re worth a damn off the court—yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time.”
“Neil,” Kevin said, low and frantic.
Neil ignored him. “I know it’s not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you’re physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like every other normal human being can, but I don’t think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions, and you used yours up about six insults ago. So please, please, just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”
The memory popped up in his head. Neil was bold for doing that on live television. Truly, he felt smitten at that moment, even though he was petrified. Knowing someone who stood up for him felt unreal and healing, especially having two who had his back. He looked to his left, where Andrew was sitting, and noticed him staring with a raised brow.
“Just reminiscing about the time we were on Kathy’s show.”
“Reminiscing? What about it was memorable for you?” Andrew snorted. “It was hot seeing Neil talk shit about Riko right to his face, though.”
Neil joined the conversation. “Oh, you finally admitted to being into that!” He beamed.
“What? Did I say anything?” Obliviousness did not look great on Andrew. “Kevin, back me up.” He prodded Kevin in the shoulder. Kevin laughed at their interaction. He wondered if they were always spiralling into such conversations daily before Kevin had the chance to join them.
…
Stars were blinking and the moon was hung high in the dimmed sky. The three of them returned to the court for practice (more of Kevin and Neil’s practice). Andrew only hovered lazily by the goalpost, swinging his racquet around as he stared at the strikers’ movements. Neil was sprinting as fast as usual, currently in possession of the ball. Andrew knew he was going to aim at the goal, but he had no plan to block it. The goal lit up a hue of red, and a buzz went off. A score for Neil! Andrew dropped his racquet to clap unenthusiastically.
Kevin grumbled something before taking a ball and aiming it at Andrew, using the force of his swing on his racquet. Andrew ducked and let the ball hit the net of the goalpost. Another score! He clapped once again with a slight smirk on his face.
“Can you stop that?” Kevin shouted as he ran over to Neil and Andrew.
“Why should I?” Andrew scoffed. Neil merely rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he stared at Andrew in disbelief.
“Because I asked?” Kevin flicked his fingers. “You always do what Neil says when he asks.” He frowned.
“Says who?”
“Says—” Neil cut Kevin off by shoving him gently. “Just let Andrew do whatever he wants. You’ve said it before: our target is the goal and not the goalkeeper.” He waved his hand around as he spoke up.
“Well, you aimed for the goalkeeper first,” Kevin stated casually.
Neil held a nonplussed look. “What does that even mean?”
“You’re so obtuse.” Kevin scoffed.
“Both of you need to shut up.” Neil and Kevin turned to look at Andrew with their mouth agape. “Yes or no?”
“It’s always a yes with you,” said both of them at the same time. They were so in sync.
“Until it’s a no.” Andrew reminded them before pulling Kevin down into a kiss first. It was like he was trying to kiss him senseless. Kevin’s lips felt chapped after they pulled away from each other. Intently, he watched the other two as he licked his lips, feeling the lingering weight of Andrew’s mouth on his.
Time was non-existent whenever they spent their time alongside one another. Quotidianly, Kevin always looked forward to spending time together with the two of them, whether it was playing in Exy matches or sitting on the sofa watching films and movies Neil had never indulged in. He had more than Exy to care for now.