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It happens mostly as an accident, the way they collide.
It starts with Aaron passing Andrew in the hallways, brushing his fingers along his books or folders or loose notes (because he's not stupid enough to try and touch Andrew without warning) and twisting his neck back to look at his brother's reaction. Every time this happens, they make eye contact and Aaron doesn't know what Andrew sees on his face, but he curls his lips back in what could be interpreted as a snarl.
It's hilarious if you ask Aaron, and he doesn't bother holding back his own toothy grin. He's right in knowing it only pisses Andrew off more, and under layers and layers of muscle and bone and scar tissue, he can hear the stars chiding him for his instigating.
Aaron doesn't care, and his stupid motherfucker of a brother is going to get Aaron in his life whether Andrew wants him or not.
They collide, and it isn't pretty, but it also isn't as bad as it could've been.
Tension builds up even while they're with the other Foxes. Aaron will mutter something under his breath about Andrew's past home life, Andrew will snap something just as nasty about his track marks, and they move on.
The sun and the moon orbit each other anxiously, restlessly pacing in the sky in a constant cycle and waiting for the universe to leave them alone, let them rest, please, they're just so tired.
It boils to a head after Aaron's trial while the rest of the Foxes are waiting for them at the Court, only two days after Aaron is proven not guilty and released into the real world. He can distantly hear Neil telling the team to stay inside while him and Andrew enter the inner court, and Kevin looks about two seconds away from protesting until he notices the dark circles under the twins' eyes.
(If Aaron is being honest, Andrew looks like a spawn of Death herself; dark and weathered and just as lethal. Aaron smiles cruelly at the glare Andrew fixes him, and for the first time in months, feels galaxies explode in his lungs and make a home under his fingernails.)
It starts out slow. Aaron lobs balls at the net lazily, sometimes Andrew swipes them away if they get too close to hitting him. It starts out slow. And then they switch positions.
He can hear someone banging on the glass before an abrupt stop, and Aaron is standing in the goal with Andrew's racquet and Andrew's body language and Andrew's icy glare, and they're off. Andrew strikes ball after ball into the net, Aaron managing to hit only about a third of them away. He swings Andrew's racquet like it's a baseball bat and manages to get a solid hit that sends one ball flying down the court at breakneck speed. He doesn't look at where it lands, but he feels something expand in his chest at his own power.
They don't breathe, they don't pause, and it feels like a fight to the death without the bloody knuckles and bruised cheeks and bent-out-of-shape fingers. The stars watch from afar as the sun and moon dance, watch as their forced orbit picks up, reaches its climax, the universe holding in a shuddering breath as they drop their racquets an indeterminable amount of time later.
Weapons (no, wait, that isn't right, Aaron thinks. They were holding racquets, not guns or pretty knives or orange pill bottles) clatter to the floor and it sounds suspiciously quiet, the dance halted right at the good part, two twins pausing in their firefight to just look at each other.
Aaron isn't surprised when he sees that Andrew has blown out his arms (mostly because he isn't faring any better), but they meet in the middle for the first time, and it is beautiful.
Aaron has him by the front end of his helmet in seconds, in days, maybe in years, and yanks him down with the strength of the cosmos. Andrew doesn't protest, only lets himself be guided down with Aaron quick to follow.
Their lungs try and make room for the air they need to breathe, but the weight of the world is taking up space where vital organs should be and Aaron can only shake with lack of oxygen. He lets go of Andrew's helmet only to rip off his own, tossing it aside in a way he knows will piss Kevin off.
"I've always liked baseball," Aaron ventures through lungs and teeth and a throat that refuses to cooperate. Andrew rips off his helmet, dislodging his brothers hand and ignoring the sweat under his hair, under his eyes, pooling at his temples.
It's a tense few seconds as Andrew's mouth parts, his chest heaving and lips red. Aaron almost thinks Andrew has flowers growing on his tongue; sharp thorns poking the inside of his mouth to make his words drip crimson.
"You're older. You can make your own decisions."
With eight words, it's like Aaron can breathe again. It’s as much of a consent as he'll ever get from his brother when Andrew recognizes he's done wrong, and somehow, someway, Aaron finds the strength to get to his feet. He extends a hand out to his twin, his other half; he feels his heart attempt to beat clear out of his chest when Andrew grabs on and lets Aaron help him up.
They collide. The stars grind into movement around them as Aaron hooks an arm around Andrew's middle, Andrew's arm tossed over Aaron's shoulders. Together, the sun and moon hobble to the doors, racquets and helmets forgotten as their arms attempt to collapse under them.
The doors open before they can get to it, but neither of them pay any mind to their Foxes. Aaron tosses Andrew down onto the nearest bench and just about collapses at his feet.
It's Andrew that breaks the silence, breathing still strained just enough to be noticeable as he hunches forward on his bench, Aaron resting his head in the space near Andrew's left thigh, his head tilted up at the ceiling.
"Practice without us. Our arms-" he starts, then cuts himself off. Aaron can see him grit his teeth in frustration, jaw clenching, hair falling in damp strands over his forehead. Aaron distinctly remembers Andrew never blowing out his arms before, and smirks up at his own flop of wet hair. "Our arms are shot. Kevin can pick up our racquets."
Kevin makes a noise like he's about to protest, but ultimately decides he values his life. For the first time in months, Aaron thinks this kid might actually be smart.
He can also hear the click of a phone camera go off, and ultimately decides to fucking murder Nicky later.
They're okay. Aaron finishes his Exy season with a Championship win still under his belt from their battle with the Ravens and Andrew's blessing to date Katelyn.
It's only much, much later that Aaron gets to see his brother smile. It's tiny and quiet and Aaron can't hear, can't breathe, and it's like that day on the Court so many years ago and Aaron wants to scream under the weight of his own joy. Andrew is holding a tiny bundle of human in his arms, gentle, gentle, like he's scared his hands will accidentally crush the newborn he's got curled to his chest.
Aaron beams at his twin, and no one can stop him.
"Do you want to know her name?" Aaron asks softly into the stillness of the room. The air is sealed, hushed, like time has no meaning in their well-lit hospital room.
"Yes," Andrew breathes into the soft skin of his niece's head. He doesn't take his eyes off of her, and Aaron wants to pinch himself to make sure this is all real, to make sure they're all alive and well and happy.
Aaron hesitates for only a half a second, but it’s enough to get Andrew to look at him.
"Her name is Andrea. I'm planning 'Andy' as a nickname," Aaron croaks through a throat that is threatening to close up on him. He can feel the wavering in his own voice, but he meets Andrew's eyes head on and watches as identical eyes search, search, search for a lie in Aaron's face. He doesn't give one. Andrew softly hands the baby back to a tearing-up Katelyn, and before Aaron can even process what the hell as a coherent thought, he's being engulfed in the first hug his brother has ever given him.
Aaron doesn't waste any time, not when it comes to this, and tosses his arms over Andrew's shoulders. He shoves his face into his brother's neck and feels suspiciously like crying, but he knows if he starts, he won't be able to stop, and that will only scare his twin away.
That lasts only until he hears words only meant for the shell of Aaron's ear; Andrew whispering thank you with a mouth full of thorns.
Aaron cries.
One day, Andrew will burn out and Aaron will stay behind to watch his dead planets suffer.
One day, Aaron will crumble under the weight of his own regrets and misdeeds and force the stars to hear him collapse.
But until that day comes, the Universe will hold two twins gently in the palm of its hands and whisper encouragements to its sun and moon. It will force them into orbit, letting them spit and rage into the timeless seams of the cosmos and giggle as they realize they are each one half to one whole.
They are a galaxy of possibilities, and the Universe lets them be at peace in their differences.