Work Text:
Going on with the years, the Foxes line-up only got bigger, apparently winning championship gets you one hell of a reputation. Despite having more than one goalie, Andrew was still the first ranked of the NCAA, and so it came automatically that he was the starting Goalie of the team.
It happened very rarely that Andrew was called out of entire games, until now only one time that he can recall, which was when he was sporting a fever of 104 and his body would not even respond to the most basic commands.
The second time Andrew sits out of one game is because he has a resentment in his left hand. And since that game was not a particularly exciting one, and because Neil was practically about to tear Kevin’s head off arguing how he was not risking causing Andrew any more pain, Wymack decided it would not be too big of a problem letting Andrew sit out.
Although Andrew has been in the team for years now, and has seen Neil play countless times, whenever he was sitting on the bench, he was either too sick with withdrawal, during the period he was on meds, to pay attention, or he was too uninterested to even bother glancing up at the ongoing match.
Today was different, maybe it was because last year they lost with this particular team, or because even though it was not a particularly challenging team, they still had one of the best techniques in the league. Or maybe it was because Neil had let his hair grow out a bit and despite his bandana, they could still frame his eyes in ways that made Andrew’s stomach flip. Or because Neil decided to start wearing, really tight, black shorts underneath their usual white uniform shorts, and Andrew was mentally thanking every single Nike designer because his white shorts were practically all rolled up, and his thighs pumping with muscles and fatigue were right on sight for Andrew to enjoy.
Anyway. Andrew for once was watching the match, and now without the grate of the helmet, all the players and half of a field between them he could clearly see Neil play. He could clearly see the effort and intent Neil put in every move he made, which was news to no-one really, Kevin’s words were echoing in the back of his mind like a broken record ‘He plays like he has nothing to lose.’
And although it was Neil’s reality for most of his life, it was not anymore.
But what was really itching him to stop the game altogether was how hard the other players were playing too. He was well aware that exy was not a delicate sport and that violence, although moderated, was a big part of it, that never bothered him, rather it was one of the few parts he enjoyed most of the game.
What he failed to notice, and yes it was really annoying him that he never did, was how Neil’s efforts and strength directly resulted in all the other players matching the same effort, which in turn resulted in them to be more violent and reckless towards Neil.
That didn’t sit right with Andrew, he would never tell Neil to stop playing or play less aggressively to make the opposing team less aggressive, but he really wanted to. He wanted them to stop crushing so hard on him, he wanted way less close calls when their racquets came flying just an inch from Neil’s head, or in his general direction.
The last straw was when Neil pulled one of his usual stunts where he waited the last second to pass the ball with the other player charging at him at full speed, and ended up crushing full body onto the protective screen that surrounded the field.
Since the match had only minutes to spare and the foxes boasted 3 points over the opposing team, Wymack deemed it was enough of ‘let’s smash Neil Josten into meatballs’ and called him out. Neil was outraged, but quickly forgot about it when hearing the crowd chanting his name and jersey number. He stepped inside with a grin visible even through the helmet guard he was still wearing.
That made Andrew stomp away for the locker room.
‘What is that about?’ he heard Neil ask Wymack and his response ‘I don’t know, he is been pissy for the whole match.’ was the last thing he heard before he slammed the door shut.
Andrew Joseph Minyard was in no way, shape or form pissy.
Incredibly annoyed with a tiny hint of worry was more like it, but could they really expect anything else? he had to witness with his very own eyes, his partner being quite literally thrown, pushed, and almost beaten by people that had almost a foot on him.
Neil didn’t wait the end of the game to go and find Andrew, indeed it only took him the time to undo his gloves and helmet before entering the locker room, Andrew was reorganising his perfectly organised locker, Neil leaned with his shoulder onto the next locker.
He let Andrew fake organising for just a few second, decided it was enough and placed an outstretched hand in front of Andrews face.
This little trick of his, made Andrew even more irrationally infuriated, how dare him respect in every single way his spaces and boundaries, how dare him appear even more attractive when Andrew is pissed.
He lazily met Neil’s eyes; he was smirking. This out of character stomping feet toddler scene was not something they were used to see. He raised his eyebrows ‘What is going on?’
Andrew didn’t know how to express what was going on his mind, and even if he could, his fears were not even worth expressing since there was nothing either of the two could do about it. Neil for sure couldn’t stop playing, and Andrew would never ask him to.
So, Andrew decided to take the highway of silence and ignoring Neil’s question altogether. He turned around, slammed his locker shut and started to gather his things in his duffle bag.
‘Drew’ Andrew knew Neil was not going to leave it at that ‘Talk to me.’
That made Andrew turn up his nose, he wanted to, he really wanted to, he just didn’t have the words for it.
Neil was about to speak again when the sounds of stomping feet came towards them. The game was over.
‘Ok. I don’t know what I did, but I’ll leave you space, I’ll ask Abby if I can shower in her bathroom.’ Andrew was about to retort that that was not what he wanted, he didn’t need space, he just wanted Neil to be safe, but all the Foxes swarmed in the room, and Neil slipped out.
The Foxes excitement for their victory covered Neil’s absence, the others either didn’t notice or assumed he was already in the shower.
Andrew grabbed his duffle bag, ignored Nicky’s questioning looks and slammed the locker room door shut for good measure. Wymack was right outside, sprawled on one of the couches, one of his eyebrows shot closer to his hairline. Andrew just made a displeased sound with his mouth.
‘You know grown-ups resolve their problems by talking, you might want to try that.’ at Andrews unimpressed glare Wymack continued ‘Neil asked Abby to shower in her bathroom,’ it was not a question so Andrew didn’t answer ‘you were completely fine before the match, the only thing that changed was Neil standing up for you and protecting you when he knew you were in pain.’ Wymack give a few heartbeats to let it sink in ‘Whatever you do, don’t punish him for protecting you.’
‘What?’ Andrews shocked expression shocked Wymack even more ‘You think I’m mad because of that?’
The coach just shrugged ‘As I said, you were fine before that.’ Andrew shook his head, how could he think he was mad because the only person that really mattered was worrying about him?
‘Isn’t this past your pay grade coach?’ His sudden interest in their life made Andrew even more irritated. First, he had to deal with his new irrational fears and worries, then apparently his 22 years of life thought him nothing, least of all how to talk, because Neil now thought he had done something wrong to Andrew. Coach telling him stuff he didn’t need was way over his tolerance limit.
‘I think we are past that, aren’t we Minyard?’ He stood up ready to leave the room, he heard Andrew’s annoyance raising. Wymack was almost out the room when Andrew spoke again.
‘I am not mad.’ Andrew was now facing the windows to the court, he couldn’t see his face, but Wymack was quick to notice how his muscle shoulders were tense. Andrew knew Wymack heard him and stopped walking away. Wymack just waited for him to continue.
‘I am worried.’ of all the things Wymack was expecting to hear, this was nowhere in the list.
‘About what?’
Andrew stuffed his clenched fists in his pockets, shifted from one foot to the other ‘You know, Neil is really good, at exy, I mean.’ the coach was almost sure he would lose track of Andrews trail of thoughts at some point, but he kept quiet and listened ‘I knew that already, I was with Kevin when he would not shut up about statistics on his improvement when we went to recruit him in Millport.’
‘I’ve played with him for three years now, I’ve seen him play every match, I’ve driven here every night for him to practice. I am on that same court when he plays.’ Wymack knew for a fact he was one of the few elected people Andrew talked more than a few words to, but he had never heard such unsolicited monologue from him. He was ready to lock every door that led to their room to avoid the invasion of the other players, but quickly ruled it out when Andrew kept talking ‘I don’t know why, but I’ve always concentrated more on Neil himself in my time benched.’ Wymack had to bite his tongue to not reply that he actually knew why ‘Today I saw the others. The other team’s backliners. They tried with all their might to match Neil’s energy and talent. They couldn’t. They tried so hard with no success that they resorted to being more violent.’
‘Have you ever noticed Neil is the one who takes more hits coach?’ Wymack had not. He was well aware of the violent aspects of their sports, he made sure to teach them how to take hits and blows, how to duck, if necessary, he made sure Abby was always at hand with a fully stocked first-aid kit. He had never noticed if there was a disparity between his players, but he knew that if Andrew spoke up about it, it must be the truth.
He was about to answer but finally noticed someone standing behind him, Neil. Damn the day he decided to foster kids who might as well be spy for how well they can sneak up behind him. Wymack decided it was his clue to make himself scarce, motioned for Neil to take his place, and walked out the door.
Andrew only turned around when he heard the door close, surprised Wymack had left him. He understood why when he spotted Neil.
‘How much did you hear?’ At last Andrew’s fists uncurled and he let his hands hang at his sides.
‘Most of it, I think. I was looking for you’ Neil took a few tentative steps forward. He still thought Andrew was mad at him, he must have missed the part when Andrew admitted of not being mad.
Andrew took a step towards him, that gave Neil the green light. Neil stepped into Andrews personal space, raised his hand to his face, waited for Andrew’s nod, and then pulled him close. Chest to chest. Neil’s nose dived towards Andrew’s neck, he whispered ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I hate that word.’ Andrews hands slipped under Neil’s shirt and lightly scratched his skin right above his belt.
‘I know, but I don’t know how else to phrase it.’ Neil’s lips left a small kiss right beneath Andrew’s ear. Andrew closed his eyes and dropped his head on Neil’s shoulder, he tried to pull even closer than he already was. He inhaled a shaky breath.
‘I hate that you felt that way and felt like you couldn’t tell me.’
Andrew tried to glance up at Neil’s face from his position, deemed it impossible, gave up, and just cuddled better in Neil’s neck ‘I wanted to tell you. But it’s stupid, it’s irrational.’
‘Never, ever belittle your feelings, or fears, you hear me?’ He lightly pinched Andrew’s hip. Neil chuckled at the bite Andrew was leaving on his neck ‘It is not stupid, and it is not irrational. Every time a striker runs towards you, I want to chase them out of the court. I did a couple times, Kevin had to drag me across the field.’
‘You really are hopeless.’ Andrew deadpanned raising his head
‘Says the stomping feet toddler.’
‘Shut up junkie, I don’t know what you are talking about.’
Neil could swear he saw a ghost of a smile on Andrews lips while he pulled Neil in to kiss him.