Chapter Text
Neil’s eyes hurt as soon as they fluttered open. He immediately squeezed them shut, attempting to block out the brightness assaulting his senses. He breathed in deeply through his nose, registering the faint smell of chemicals and disinfectants in the air.
I’m in a hospital , he thought.
Having been an exy player for many years now, he had become familiar with them. Although he usually had Abby to look after his cuts and bruises, he had graduated around a year ago and had left Palmetto and his newest Foxes behind with a bittersweet heart. Now that he was playing professionally and on a new team, it wasn’t uncommon that his paranoid coach, Petersons, made him check in with a doctor whenever he got a concussion or suffered even the mildest of sprains.
With the sharp smell of medicine permeating the air combined with the bright red of the insides of his eyelids, he could feel a headache approaching. Slowly, he managed to pry open his eyes, squinting against the sheer whiteness of the room. He was lying flat on his back, so he couldn’t see much beyond the ceiling at first. When he turned his head to the left, he could see a window with its curtains pulled back, making him curse the nurse who did that. There was nothing else on the wall besides a single frame of a painted flower.
He stilled when he heard the sound of a body shifting near him. He distantly wondered when his first reaction to waking up in unfamiliar territory changed from being panicked to simply observing his surroundings. Many years ago, he would have jumped off his bed by now and used it as a barrier between himself and the other person in the room.
Instead, he shifted his head to look at his right, and became painfully aware of the dryness of his mouth.
“Neil.”
Andrew Minyard sat in a chair on the right side of his bed, positioned just a few feet away from him. The man sat straight and tense with his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tight that his knuckles were white. His hair was still the same honey blond, but was unusually unkempt. The strands curled every which way, wild and untamed, falling around Andrew’s face like a picture frame.
His eyes were the same intense hazel color that had never failed, not even now, to send tingles shooting down Neil’s spine in the most delightful way. Andrew’s jaw had the same definition, his lips were the same pink, his nose had the same freckles – but some things were different. There was a furrow between his brows that no one, and often not even Neil himself, was usually privy to see.
“Neil,” Andrew repeated.
“Andrew,” Neil replied dumbly, unable to process what was happening.
He hadn’t spoken to Andrew in a year. He hadn't seen Andrew in the flesh for more than that.
Against all odds and all the bets their teammates placed, Andrew and Neil had managed to make their relationship work during their time at Palmetto. For four years, their relationship had blossomed into something Neil had been convinced would last a lifetime. For four years, they kissed, sat on rooftops, watched sunrises and sunsets together when they couldn’t sleep, and went on long road-trips when they needed to get away. Once Andrew graduated, however, things took a turn Neil hadn’t anticipated.
Andrew had signed with a team located in New York, and although they had never talked about their future together, Neil had been pretty secure in it regardless of what distance was placed between them.
And he had been right, at least for the first few months. Everything had been normal – they had talked every day either through the phone or using face-time. Just like in real life, Neil had done most of the talking during these calls and Andrew would only add in his usual dry commentary every now then.
Slowly, over time, the dynamic between them began to change. The new Foxes weren’t performing too well in games, so Neil had begun spending a great deal of his time training the new recruits and strategizing with Wymack. Andrew, on the other hand, had been settling into a new city with a new team. Knowing this, Neil hadn’t bothered wondering why their phone calls had suddenly seemed so much shorter and less frequent.
One day, while on the phone, Andrew’s silence had begun to eat away at him. When they were together in person, where Neil could see Andrew’s body language, it was so much easier to communicate. But with the stretch of hundreds of miles between them and nothing but a piece of aluminum to keep them connected, a heavy weight had settled over Neil’s heart.
They tried to see one another as often as they could, but even that became difficult after a while. It was impossible to see each other every weekend due to their school and work requirements, so by the fifth or sixth month, they stopped trying altogether. The only time after that that Neil ever saw Andrew was on TV or through face-time.
By the seventh or eighth month, Andrew had begun to ignore Neil’s calls. Not all the time, but enough times to make Neil worry. He no longer knew the blond’s schedule, so he also didn’t know if Andrew was purposefully ignoring his calls or if he was just calling at inconvenient times. Still, Andrew never called him back. Or called him, period. At one point, Neil had felt brave just sending a good morning text to him.
He’d wondered, was he still talking too much about exy? It was hard not to, but he had made a genuine effort in recent years to talk about other things with Andrew. Maybe he hadn’t improved as much as he thought. Was Andrew simply busy? He’d joined a new team and with all the practices and games he had to go to, it was easy to imagine the man was simply busy and tired.
Every now and then, the thought that Andrew was no longer interested in him snuck up on him. Neil had spent more than a few nights lying awake feeling heartsick and unable to fall asleep. More and more recently he had begun to search up Andrew’s name online to see what was happening in his life. Before, he could have asked Andrew directly, but he had begun to feel significantly less welcome in the man’s life.
He would watch Andrew’s games on the large flat-screen TV in the Foxes’ lounge in the stadium late at night sometimes. By their third year together, Andrew had begun to put some effort into their games and had significantly improved, and it showed in how he played with his new team. The opposing side never stood a chance against his speed and quick thinking. He always knew where the ball was going, how fast it was, and how hard to hit it.
Neil would also watch the way Andrew interacted with his teammates. He was as distant as he always was, not returning any smiles or high-fives, but every now and then he would allow a small exchange of words that looked civil enough to make Neil proud. More often than not, the teammate he talked to was Derek Hodges, the best and most loved striker on the team. Standing at over 6 feet tall with curly hair and muscular legs, he was Andrew’s type and Neil was all too aware of this fact.
Now, Neil wasn’t a naturally jealous person. Not in this context, at least. In fact, he hadn’t even cared to learn Hodge’s name up until one game when, after winning, the striker had engulfed Andrew in a hug. Andrew, who under normal circumstances would have punched anyone who attempted to do such a thing, hadn’t returned the hug but still delayed in pushing the man off him.
He never confronted Andrew about, but it kept Neil up many nights.
“Neil.”
Neil snapped back to reality and realized he had been staring at Andrew for too long. He closed his open mouth and tried to swallow around the dryness in his mouth, although it was impossible. Running a hand subconsciously through his hair, he quickly tried to come up with something to say.
“What are you doing here?” He never had much tact.
Andrew replied bluntly, “You’re hurt.”
They stared at one another for a few more seconds before Neil nodded slowly to himself and shifted his head back to face the ceiling, distantly wondering if this was a hallucination.
“Can’t even take care of yourself after all these years. I should have expected this from you,” He heard Andrew say.
Neil continued to stare at the ceiling for a few more seconds before shifting and trying to get up.
Andrew reached over and pressed a button that raised and folded his bed slightly, “I would’ve thought you to have better self-preservation skills than this by now.”
“Guess you don’t know me as well as thought you did,” Neil didn’t know where that came from.
Andrew chose not to comment and instead stared at him intently for a few more seconds. It was hard for Neil to meet his eyes now when in the past he would have no problem doing so. He loved Andrew’s eyes and the weight of his gaze, but now the weight felt suffocating and like it was picking him apart. He didn’t know what to do.
“What happened?” Neil changed the subject.
“You passed out in the middle of practice,” Andrew said plainly and leaned back in his chair. “You ran yourself ragged – doctor said you haven’t been eating right or getting enough sleep for some time now. You really have a death wish, don’t you,” It wasn’t a question.
It was the longest Neil had heard the man talk in a while now, and he couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the roughness of it. Andrew’s voice had always been deep and quiet, something Neil was very attracted to.
He still wanted Andrew to answer his first question.
“We’re going to New York,” The goalie had always been good at reading his mind.
Confused, Neil asked, “New York? I have practice – Wait, what day is it?”
Andrew’s expression tightened, “Junkie. You’re lying in a hospital bed and even now you’re thinking about that stupid game.”
‘ Your junkie ’ is how Neil would have replied to Andrew’s anger in the past, but the past was just that – the past.
Instead he said, “Fine. Why am I going to New York?”
“You’re not going to New York, we’re going to New York,” Andrew corrected. “You’re not allowed back on the court for at least a week. I talked to your coach.”
When Neil looked like he was going to argue, he rolled his eyes, “You’re half-dead. You’re not getting out of this one.”
“But why are we going to New York?”
“You’re going to stay with me,” Andrew glared cuttingly at Neil when it looked like he wanted to cut him off. “You’ll spend the week with me and recover.”
“I don’t have to go to New York to recover.”
“Then who’s going to make sure you don’t accidentally kill yourself?”
“I don’t need anyone to look after me.” Neil scowled.
“Clearly, you do,” Andrew countered, unimpressed.
Neil glared at the man. Had he not known the blond as well as he did, he would have mistook his blank expression to be apathetic and intimidating, but he saw clear as day the clenching of Andrew’s jaw, indicating exactly how pissed off he was.
“Is anyone else here?” Neil asked.
“It’s just me now,” Andrew said.
A few hours later, just like Andrew said, Neil found himself getting ready to leave. After he had been discharged by the hospital and given care instructions, Andrew had handed him a bag full of sweatpants, a hoodie, some socks, shoes, and a pair of sunglasses. They had been messily thrown in there in what seemed to be a hurry.
The clothes fit him almost perfectly. The sweatpants were a few inches too short to be his, but after a while he recognized the hoodie as his own. He hadn’t worn it for a very long time now, as it was an extra that he had left at Andrew’s apartment so long ago. It was a little loose due to the weight he had dropped, but it was definitely his own. And Andrew had kept it.
Neil switched to a different stream of thought. Andrew had remembered to bring him some sunglasses, and hopefully this get-up would be enough to hide him from any fans that may recognize him in the hospital or the parking lot. There wasn’t much to be done about the scars on his face. Against his will, with some time, he had become a little bit tolerant of the media attention he got. In this situation, however, it would be best if he was not seen.
Once he was changed, they exited the building together. The blond wore a similar outfit, except in black rather than gray, and it was also significantly tighter. Neil tried his best to ignore Andrew’s arms.
Sliding into the Maserati, even after all this time, felt familiar to Neil. He settled in easily and immediately remembered all the special moments they had in this car. He didn’t spend long going down memory lane, however, because he had just noticed something.
Before, Andrew’s car would normally be bare and neat, save for a few things here and there Nicky would leave behind by accident. Now, however, there were a number of things that Neil did not recognize. There was a goalie helmet in the back, as well as a racquet. There was also an unmarked black box sitting on one of the backseats, and a cheesy pair of dice with Andrew’s initials hung from the rear view mirror. Neil wondered who exactly had talked Andrew into leaving that up. He doubted even he could convince the man to not tear something like that down.
Andrew, once in the driver’s seat, followed his line of sight. He didn’t say anything, even though Neil was positive Andrew knew he was curious.
The car started and purred to life. Feeling the familiar vibrations under him, Neil let himself relax. This could be good. Spending a week with Andrew didn’t sound too bad; after all they spent four years together. How could one little week hurt?
“Hodges talked to me into it,” Andrew suddenly said, driving out of the parking lot.
Neil made a noise of confusion, too caught up in his own thoughts to follow what Andrew was saying.
“The dice. Hodges gave it to me as a gift.”
Hodges.
“Hodges?” Neil feigned confusion over who that was.
Andrew shot him a look before looking back at the road, “A striker on my team. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I accepted the gift.”
“A pair of dice is an awful gift,” Neil said.
“Yeah,” Andrew agreed.
More silence. It ate away at Neil’s insides for a while. He wasn’t sure what to converse about or whether Andrew was even interested in having a conversation. He had just pretended to not know one of Andrew’s teammates, which sounded suspicious considering the day the blond had gotten his offer to join the team, Neil had done a bunch of research on them and their plays.
“How’d you even know I was in the hospital?” Neil asked, playing with his seatbelt.
Andrew told him that he’d been in town for a few days, but didn’t elaborate beyond that. Why did he drive so many hours just to be in Virginia? One of Neil’s teammates, Nicole, from almost the very beginning of meeting him had known about his relationship with Andrew. Unfortunately, she did not know that the two no longer spoke, and so called Andrew, informing him of Neil’s state.
Neil couldn’t deny that it gave him a little bit of a thrill that Andrew showed up. He was feeling so many emotions, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint whether he was happy that Andrew was there or uncomfortable. One minute he would sneak glances at the man as he talked and the next he would turn up the volume of the radio so that Andrew would take the hint to remain silent.
They were hours away from New York, but the two were used to long car rides. From Virginia it took them around eight or nine hours to reach their destination, but Andrew refused to let Neil drive. At the stops they took, they ate in silence, often opting to eat as they drove. At a few points, Neil even fell asleep as his exhaustion outweighed his discomfort.
He woke up to Andrew nudging his shoulder. With a start, he realized they were in an underground parking lot. When he got out, the air was cool and felt nice against the little bits of exposed skin he had. It also felt amazing to stretch out his muscles.
Once Neil had shut the car door, Andrew locked the car and began walking towards where the elevators were. Neil followed and they began to ride up to the 28th floor. Andrew was tapping at his phone, standing on the other end of the elevator.
“I’m ordering food,” The goalie said without looking up. “What do you want?”
“Whatever you want,” Neil automatically replied. He had never been a picky eater thanks to his time on the run with his mom.
“McDonalds it is.” Andrew answered.
Neil knew Andrew made a lot of money, but just from what he had seen so far, he knew the building was extremely expensive. The car park had been full of fancy, shiny cars and everything, including the elevator, was polished and upscale-looking.
When he entered Andrew’s apartment, he was almost taken aback by how nice everything was. Back when Neil used to visit him, the man had lived in a different, much smaller apartment. This one, however, had giant art pieces on the wall and had an open concept. There was one wall that was entirely glass and Neil could see the New York that inspired so many people.
Everything was sparkling and had its own neat place to go, but it looked unlived in. Andrew was a very hygienic and neat person, so the state of the apartment wasn’t unusual, but Neil couldn’t help but think the man didn’t spend much time here. In what world would Andrew care about art pieces?
“Nicky decorated it,” Andrew explained, once more reading his thoughts. “He wouldn’t leave until I gave him permission.”
Neil nodded even though Andrew had turned to face away from him. The man threw his keys on the glass dining table and began making his way to the kitchen. He informed Neil the food would be here in less than 15 minutes and began to pour himself some water.
As he did this, Neil walked further into the apartment and tried to inspect the art pieces rather than the blond. He sat down on the sofa awkwardly and began to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie, unsure of what to do. He didn’t have anything else with him. Before leaving the hospital, Andrew had told him he had some of his clothes at his apartment, so there hadn’t been any need for them to stop by Neil’s place.
By the time the food arrived, Andrew had turned on the TV and they were both watching re-runs of some comedy show about Brooklyn cops that neither one of them particularly cared for. However, the way it filled the stifling silence was welcome.
They ate quietly, and at one point it looked like Andrew wanted to say something to Neil. He had paused in the middle of eating and had looked at him for a few seconds, but when Neil met his eyes, Andrew’s gaze had shifted back to the TV.
Once they were done eating, Andrew told him that he could have the spare bedroom.
“There’s a bathroom attached,” He said. “Whatever you need is there. If you want something, get it yourself. I’m going to sleep.”
With that, the goalie threw out his trash and walked away, leaving Neil to stare at his back.
Neil sighed and got up from the sofa. He picked up his portion of the garbage and threw it away before finding the bedroom Andrew had been talking about. He found his clothes neatly folded on the bed and quickly changed into them. Too lazy to shower after such a long day, he merely brushed his teeth and washed his face.
Lying in bed, he wondered what was he doing here.