Chapter Text
(1 year, 7 months, and 7 days ago)
Andrew is getting impatient.
It’s hot as hell outside, Aaron and Kevin still aren’t ready, and it’s the third time his cousin has lost his phone in the past fifteen minutes despite not even having left the dorm yet.
Nicky pats down his jeans pocket in the lobby one more time like the device will have somehow magically appeared there since the last time he checked it. “I swear I just had it, Andrew! Seriously!”
Andrew barely glances at him.
He just wants to leave this god-forsaken campus behind to lose himself in the oblivion of Columbia’s hedonistic ways. Eden’s Twilight is calling to him like a siren beckoning. So why the fuck can’t his family get it together?
Nicky casts a knowing grin at him. “I know, I know. Don’t get your blue balls in a twist, Andrew. We’ll get going soon.”
Andrew decides to spare Nicky’s life by ignoring him.
Light catches against the wall, and he turns in time to see someone pulling open the lobby door.
It’s some moron who obviously just got back from a run, despite the ridiculous temperature outside. Dark hair, dark eyes – he must be a freshman because Andrew doesn’t recognize him. He shudders against the onslaught of A/C, though, the cool air probably frigid versus the sweltering heat he just came from.
He clearly must be from out of state – it had taken Andrew a year or so to adjust to the insane levels of humidity Palmetto offered. This kid will earn himself a nasty cold if he pulls this stunt a few more times.
“Let me guess. You wanna see your little boytoy in Columbia, right? That bartender – what’s his face?”
He’s got an incredibly stupid orange bandana wrapped around his head to keep his hair back that Andrew immediately wants to set on fire and watch it burn. His sneakers are literally falling apart at the seams, and he’s wearing a faded grey t-shirt that’s three sizes too large for him, at least. But the thing that really catches his eye is the tiny running shorts he’s wearing, showing off tight, toned legs. Despite himself, Andrew’s interest is slightly piqued.
“Although maybe you’ll just find that sweet little blonde you had last time. Oh my god, he was so cute!”
The kid is dripping sweat. It should be disgusting (and it is) – but it also fills Andrew with this awful, primal surge of attraction. It makes him want to get closer, to run his hands over slick skin, to smell the heat and musk of his body.
So instead, he pushes the urge away violently, settling for watching the guy slowly trudge his way towards the stairs. He looks tired. Not just “I ran ten miles” tired, but “this is the sixth night I didn’t get any sleep, and the world is slowly crushing me,” kind of exhausted.
Andrew knows the feeling.
“Or perhaps you don’t mind staying for a bit because there is an adorable baby athlete who probably needs a full body massage that you could take care of.”
Nicky’s voice is pitched low enough that he knows the kid can’t hear him, but Andrew immediately swings around and glares at him anyway.
Nicky backs up a couple of steps. “What? I’m just saying. He’s really cute. And then you wouldn’t even have to go all the way to Columbia.”
Andrew’s face doesn’t waver. “Everyone has 10 minutes. Anyone who’s not ready by then gets left behind.”
“Okay, okay! Sheesh, I’ll go back upstairs and get them!”
Nicky hurries over to the elevator and presses the button.
Andrew turns back towards the stairs. He’d thought that by now, the guy would be gone, but instead, he sees him hesitating on the bottom step. There’s clearly an internal war going on in his head whether the stairs are worth it before he turns and heads towards the elevator. Where Nicky is standing.
Shit.
Nicky’s eyes widen, and he turns back towards Andrew, jerking his head obnoxiously in the kid’s direction and pointing at him excitedly.
Andrew gives him his fiercest glower while shaking his head, but Nicky ignores him.
“So! Real hot out there today, am I right? I’m amazed you still went running – though I’m sure those shorts help keep you cool. Nice legs, by the way. You go running a lot, I’m guessing? I mean, me and my cousin, Andrew – he’s the one sitting over there by the wall, see him? – we’re not big fans of running. But let me tell you what, we are big fans of men in tight, sweaty-”
He squeals, cutting off when Andrew throws his knife at him.
He throws it wide on purpose, of course, like Renee showed him. It’s not meant to hit Nicky after all. Just scare him a little.
But a second later, to everyone’s surprise, the brunette catches it.
“Oh,” he says.
Like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like it was a reflex. Like it’s perfectly normal for someone to just reach out and catch knives from midair when they’re flying at people.
Interesting.
“Wow,” Nicky blinks. “Oh my god, that was amazing! How did you even know how to do that? Were you like, in the circus or something? Are you Batman?”
“Um,” the kid starts, clearly uncomfortable.
The elevator door dings open behind them.
“Do you think you could do it again? Like seriously, I’m going to record it with my phone this time and show it to my boyfriend in – oh shit, where is my phone? Damn it, I swear I’m always losing this thing-”
“Nicky,” Andrew warns him again.
“Fine, fine!” Nicky huffs, getting into the elevator. He grins at the brunette. “Coming?”
The guy hesitates before shaking his head. “Think I’ll take the stairs.”
They both watch the door close on Nicky’s pout.
Then silence echoes loudly in the lobby.
The kid takes the knife and tosses it in the air, making it do an intricate flip before he somehow manages to land the blade handle perfectly in his palm.
He walks over and offers it back to Andrew. “Good model.”
Andrew looks at him for a long moment before he takes the knife, sheathing it back in his armband. He shrugs. “Good enough to kill a zombie.”
The brunette looks at him bewilderedly.
Andrew tenses.
He waits for the kid to make fun of him or spit out whatever dumbass comment that goes along with that stupid face he’s making. The most likely scenario is he probably thinks Andrew is weird – not that Andrew cares, of course.
But for some reason, this time, the thought rankles him. Probably because this boy is so pretty. All tan skin and brown curls, and…are those color contacts? Why the fuck would this guy buy brown contact lenses? Of all colors? Is he some kind of-
“If you think that’s good enough to saw through the tendons in someone’s neck, then you’re gonna be a zombie chew toy in no time.”
Andrew blinks.
He hates that it takes him another moment to respond. “What would you use instead?”
“Machete. Sword. Meat cleaver - if you’re desperate.”
“Not an axe?”
The kid stills for just a second. Then his face glosses over, and it’s like the hitch never occurred. “Good point. Just make sure it’s a long handle because you’re never getting a hatchet back.”
Very interesting.
“But enough about blades. We’re talking zombies, so you’ll definitely want more long-range weapons as a first line of defense.”
Andrew thinks on this a moment. Then he gets up and starts walking out of the lobby towards the front door. He stops when he sees the kid isn’t moving. “Coming?” he asks.
The brunette hesitates before he decides to follow.
The heat hits them like a ton of bricks, but they both choose to ignore it.
Andrew sits on the parking lot curb as he taps his cigarette box. He pulls one out and lights it before he turns and offers it to the stranger. “Smoke?” he asks.
The kid nods.
Andrew lights one for him and hands it over, but the guy doesn’t smoke it. He just lets it burn in his hand, breathing deeply when the smoke hits his face.
It shouldn’t be intriguing, but it is.
Andrew takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting the nicotine dance along his veins before he says, “So. Long-range weapons.”
The kid’s mouth quirks.
By the time Nicky comes back, now with Kevin and Aaron in tow, Andrew and the brunette have launched into a serious discussion about Andrew’s detailed apocalypse plan.
He’s pleased to find the kid hasn’t made the rookie mistake of thinking a hospital will be an acceptable location to hunker down in, but they are heatedly debating the merits of a grocery store versus a farm.
“Grocery store,” the other says.
“Too short term,” Andrew argues. “You need to be self-sustaining. Gotta think of the long-haul.”
“But a farm is too isolated,” the brunette insists. “You’re too vulnerable being out in the open like that. What if they come in droves?”
“Then you kill them all.”
“You and what army?”
“The select few you take in who know how to put down a zombie.”
“Too many mouths to feed. A farm takes too much work and effort. It can all be destroyed in a single night.”
“So instead, you’d stay in a grocery store? It’ll only take a couple days for the food to rot, and it’s not like the supply trucks will keep coming during an apocalypse.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t stay. I’d run.”
Andrew takes one sidelong look at him and thinks, yeah, that makes sense. The kid seems like a runner (besides the obvious, of course). Shifty eyes and hands. Horribly ill-fit clothes that look like they’ve been unearthed from some ancient Lost and Found box. Lean, just this side of malnourished. He practically has runaway tattooed on his forehead.
“So that’s the plan? Run and don’t look back?”
“Loot, scavenge, steal,” the brunette shrugs. “Laws won’t matter when humanity falls.”
“Sounds like someone’s just waiting for the right opportunity,” Andrew narrows his eyes at him.
“Psh. I’m no supervillain.”
“Right. Says the same guy walking around with a deadly virus in his back pocket.”
“Oops. You caught me,” the guy deadpans. “Now what? Going to handcuff me and haul my ass off to jail, superhero?”
There’s a little frisson of…something that hums in Andrew’s blood at the mental image of this pretty brunette lying on his bed with a pair of velvet handcuffs around his wrists.
Andrew blinks the thought away rapidly.
“Wouldn’t be worth the effort. I’d just take you out and keep moving.”
“Who says I wouldn’t get you first?”
Andrew lifts a brow. “Like to see you try.”
There’s a ghost of a smile around the kid’s mouth for a second before it’s gone. “Anti-hero, I see. Sorry to rob you of the chance then, but I don’t have any world domination plans involving a zombie virus.”
“Ah, well.” Andrew shrugs. “Win some. Lose some.”
“That’s how the game is played,” the guy says sagely.
“I play to win.”
The kid shakes his head. “I’m okay with just playing. For as long as I can.”
Andrew pauses before giving him a sideways glance. “And you think if you keep moving, that will give you the best chance? Trying to stay one step ahead of them?”
“That’s the plan.”
“It’ll never work.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’ll get tired eventually. The hunt will wear you down. You’ll become exhausted, lonely. You’ll end up doing something stupid to get yourself killed.”
The kid’s lips quirk. “Probably,” he says quietly.
Andrew stares at him. “So you run until you can’t run anymore. Then what happens when they find you?”
Now the brunette smiles, but it’s cold and merciless. “Game over.”
There’s something more here. Something that Andrew itches to dig into and figure out. He has this sudden, weird urge to pry this kid open and spill all his secrets on the sidewalk.
But he doesn’t get the chance.
“Oh. It’s Neil, right?”
The kid’s head shoots up. His shoulders relax a fraction of a second later. “Oh. Hey Kevin.”
Neil. Andrew’s mind latches onto the new information and hoards it with embarrassing speed.
Kevin frowns down at Neil while Aaron stands off to the side, completely disinterested. “Are you all moved in?”
Neil nods.
“What, Kev? You know this hottie?” Nicky squawks. “Introduce us!”
Neil frowns at him.
Kevin sighs. “Neil, this is Nicky Hemmick, an awful excuse of a defender on my lacrosse team-”
“Excuse you, did you just call me a horrible player AND claim the lacrosse team as yours? Wait until I tell Dan-”
“-Nicky, this is Neil Josten. He’s Matt and Seth’s new roommate, but he doesn’t play on any team.” Kevin furrows his brow as he looks over at Andrew. “It looks like you’ve already met Andrew, our goalie.”
“Remember? I said we’re cousins!” Nicky adds unhelpfully.
Neil slides a look between Nicky and Andrew but says nothing. Neither Nicky nor Andrew help clear anything up.
“And that’s Aaron, another one of our defenders on the team. Except he’s actually decent,” Kevin grumbles under his breath. He points between Andrew and Aaron. “They’re brothers,” he adds in needlessly.
Aaron barely spares Neil a glance.
Andrew watches the way Neil shoots Kevin a look, his body turning and rising as if he’s about to spit off a remark like no shit, Sherlock. But a fraction of a second later, he watches Neil pull back and swallow it.
Fascinating.
“So, as long as we’re being friendly and all,” Nicky grins at him shamelessly, “how about we exchange numbers? Maybe hang out sometime?”
Neil frowns at him. “I don’t have a phone.”
“Ouch,” Nicky winces. “There are easier ways to let a guy down, Neil.”
Neil looks even more puzzled. “No, really. I don’t have a phone.”
Not even Nicky knows where to go with that line. “Okay…so you do swing and are just a technophobe then?”
“Swing? Like on a playground?”
They all stare at him.
“No,” Nicky says slower. “Like, as in your sexuality? You know? Like are you interested in girls, boys, etc.?”
“Oh,” Neil says. Then he shrugs. “Then I don’t, I guess.”
“You don’t what?”
Neil stares steadily at Nicky. “I don’t swing.”
Andrew feels something heavy settle in his chest at those words. Something that feels dangerously close to disappointment, so he immediately shoves it as far away from his brain as he can.
So Neil doesn’t swing. So what. He doesn’t care. He barely knows the kid.
It doesn’t matter.
“Now that is a tragedy,” Nicky pouts. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” Then he winks at Neil.
Neil stares blankly at him. “No, I don’t. I have no idea where you live.”
“With Kevin, Aaron, and Andrew, of course!”
Neil blinks.
“In this dorm? Fox Tower?”
Still silence.
“On the fifth floor? With the rest of the lacrosse team?”
Neil hums, just a slight indicator of acknowledgment before he stands up from the curb and brushes his shorts off. He turns his gaze to Andrew, dismissing Nicky silently. “Well,” his mouth quirks in the corner, “if the world goes to shit, at least I know whose team I’d want to be on.”
“Won’t be mine,” Andrew quips. “I’d shoot your ass before you could make off with my supplies. Don’t think I can’t see through your whole ‘lawless’ bullshit, you backstabber.”
Neil’s eyes crinkle with delight. He barks out a sharp, surprised laugh paired with a devastating smile that shoots straight to Andrew’s knees.
“Keep carrying those toothpicks you call knives, and the job will be a breeze.”
Now Andrew is the one blinking.
Knives, he said. As in plural.
As in he noticed that Andrew is carrying more than one, even if Andrew didn’t show him. He supposes it’s a logical conclusion to make, seeing as Andrew is wearing two armbands. But he wonders if Neil knows about the one in his boot too. Somehow, he figures he probably does.
Neil smirks before giving a stupid, two-fingered salute. “See you around, Andrew.”
Then he walks away. Andrew watches him go.
Because despite all the warning signs, despite all the obvious reasons why it’d be a terrible idea rattling around inside his head like a goddamn pinball machine, Andrew does the one thing he shouldn’t.
He falls for him immediately.
(1 year, 7 months, and 12 days later)
Neil lifts a brow as he stares across the room at Andrew. “Are you sure you want to watch this?”
Andrew stares blankly back at him. “You said it reminded you of me.”
Neil blushes. “Well, right, I know, but like you said, it’s in French. And you don’t speak French.”
Andrew shrugs. “It has subtitles. And whatever they get wrong, I’m sure you’ll tell me about it.”
He punctuates the end of this sentence with a look. Neil knows he’s referencing the hissy fit Neil threw when they watched that movie in Italian the other night.
He frowns. “The guy translating clearly only watched like a quarter of it. His subtitles didn’t make any sense. Who the hell has ‘25 anuses’? Of course, they’re talking about years- and he did it like three times, at three different parts!”
His blood boils even as he thinks about it. Stupid translator with their half-assed vocabulary and the mentality of a horny frat boy. Ruining a perfectly good movie about World War II set in the rolling hills of Tuscany. He couldn’t even pretend to enjoy the recommendation from Kevin, not after watching the twelfth translation error pop up on the screen.
He hears a small huffing noise from across the room. Neil narrows his eyes at Andrew. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, though he can feel his own lips quirking. “How would you like it if someone translated all your sentences into indecent body parts?”
“‘Indecent’?” Andrew scoffs. “Anus: in Latin, meaning ‘ring’ or ‘circle.’ Scientific term defined as ‘the opening at the lower end of the digestive tract through which solid waste is excreted.’”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is everyone has one. It has the same level of ‘decency’ as talking about your little finger or your kneecap.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone saying I had twenty-five of those either,” Neil grumbles. He sighs. “How long until the pizza gets here?”
“As long as I told you it was going to take when you asked me about it the first time.”
“I’m hungry,” Neil mutters.
“Then perhaps next time, you’ll actually eat before going on a 45-mile run.”
“It was only twelve.”
“It was supposed to be seven.”
“Kevin wanted to keep going.”
“Kevin is a competitive moron who doesn’t know when to quit, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to wipe the floor with him.”
Neil grins, completely unrepentant.
“Menace,” Andrew shakes his head.
Neil hums for a moment. Then he asks, “Are you okay with it?”
“With you teaching Kevin how to say no and set boundaries for himself the hard way? Yes. It’s extremely entertaining to watch.”
“No, I mean…” Neil chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “…with me joining the team,” he says quietly. “I know Kevin’s been asking forever, but it was your thing first. I don’t want you to think I’m intruding on your-”
“Neil,” Andrew stops him with a bored tone. He reaches out and grabs Neil’s chin with his fingers, popping Neil’s bottom lip out from between his teeth with his thumb. “I will say this only once: I could literally care less about you joining the team. And that’s because I do not give a single fuck about stickball. Got it?”
“What?” Neil’s eyes pop open wide. “But you’re so good! Everyone is always talking about it! Kevin keeps saying how he wants the two of you to go pro, and maybe even play in the Olympics one day if they bring it back, and seriously though, how amazing would that be if you-”
“Neil,” Andrew says again softly, stroking his thumb over Neil’s bottom lip still. “Stop talking about stickball.”
Neil glares back at him. “Make me,” he taunts.
Andrew’s eyes light up with the challenge. “Yes or no, Neil?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” Neil whispers right before Andrew’s lips slide over his.
Andrew makes him pay for his insolence by keeping the kiss light. He nibbles at Neil’s lips, teasing and taunting him with gentle nips that have him digging his hands into the couch cushions. He frustratingly tries to chase Andrew’s mouth, but the blonde is too nimble and quick. He slides just out of reach each time, tormenting Neil, and it’s both the best and worst punishment because Neil can’t get enough of it.
He nearly groans when Andrew’s phone starts ringing, and he pulls away to answer.
“Pizza’s here,” he smirks at Neil’s flushed face a moment later.
And Neil is annoyed because he’s hungry, damn it, but now it’s for something completely different than pizza.
“Ugh, fine,” he snaps.
“Be right back,” Andrew confirms, leaning close to snag one more quick kiss before he leaves the room.
Flustered, Neil throws himself back on the couch as he wills himself to calm down.
By the time Andrew gets back, Neil’s stomach is growling. He eagerly pops up off the couch, following Andrew into the kitchen like a duckling as he sets the box on the counter. The smell of tomatoes and cheese is driving him crazy. He takes a seat on one of the stools and whips the box top back without a second thought. Then he stops.
He stares down at the box. “What is this?”
Andrew doesn’t turn around, too focused on getting paper plates from the cabinet. “Your favorite pizza is Hawaiian.”
Neil swallows. “Yeah, but I didn’t- tonight, I never said-”
“When Dan finally cornered you at that bowling alley last October, you told her your favorite pizza was Hawaiian, but you knew lots of people hated it, so you were fine with whatever she ordered.”
Neil’s mouth gapes open. “I did, but-”
“Did you know you study better when you listen to music? Ever since Matt got you those headphones for your runs, you like to wear them in your favorite study cube in the library- the one by the window in the corner of the third floor. You always hum along to the words under your breath. You stop whenever you think anyone is looking, though, because you don’t want them to know what a good voice you have.”
Neil swallows. He knows what Andrew is doing. This is payback for all the truths Neil confessed about Andrew the other day. Turnabout is fair play, after all.
So Neil twists and fidgets self-consciously but doesn’t interrupt as Andrew keeps going.
“You also like to doodle in your textbooks or in the margins of your papers – I’ve even seen you draw on your hands one time when you were bored enough. Little foxes and flowers, mountains and geometric shapes. Once you did that halfway decent drawing of Kevin’s face before you crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage.”
There’s something warm and fuzzy in Neil’s chest that he’s definitely trying to ignore.
“You’re highly sensitive to touch,” Andrew says lowly. “Not just from other people, but from other things as well. You never reach out purposefully, but when you happen to feel something you like, there’s this small pause you do. Just a slight hesitation before you dig your fingers in deep. You did it a couple weeks ago when Jean brought that blanket to movie night, and you nearly curled up on his lap to feel more of it. I looked it up, and…” he trails off before swallowing. There’s a slight pink flush burning the tips of his ears that Neil’s really starting to like.
A smile slowly blooms on Neil’s face. “You got one.”
“Shut up.”
“You got the same blanket as Jean, so I’d cuddle up with you instead.”
“No, I got the same blanket as Jean so I could throw it at your stupid face,” Andrew snaps.
Neil just grins, taking a few steps closer until he can snag a finger in Andrew’s hoodie pocket. “Where’s the blanket now?”
“In my room.”
“Will you get it?”
“Why?”
“Because I wanna use the super-soft blanket you got me while I cuddle with you,” Neil says softly.
Andrew crosses his arms and huffs. “I didn’t get it for you. I got it to lure you.”
“Consider me lured,” Neil muses. He takes a step closer and slowly rubs his nose with Andrew’s. “Drew?” he says softly.
Andrew pushes his face away with his hand before he turns and walks towards the bedroom. “Oh hell, no. That is not becoming a thing.”
Neil smirks at his back. “I like it.”
“Stop liking it.”
“You first.”
“I do not like it.”
Neil catches the soft black blanket and nearly whimpers. “I like that you like it.” He immediately wraps himself up like a burrito. “It’s so soft, Drew.”
Andrew glares at him for a moment before snorting. He walks over and grabs them some pizza, putting their slices on a plate on the coffee table. “Kinda the point, Josten.”
Neil shuffles towards him before stumbling, smiling when Andrew swiftly catches him. “Thank you.”
“You should come with a hazard warning.”
Neil sits on the couch's arm, pleased to find Andrew’s face even with his own now. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yep. No take-backs.”
“Pretty sure I kept the receipt. Isn’t there always a 30-day guarantee?”
“Nope. Not when you make someone Real. Because once you’re Real, it lasts for always,” Neil says softly against Andrew’s lips.
“Hmm,” Andrew hums, his lips vibrating against Neil’s, causing him to shudder. “Guess you’re right then. We are stuck.”
We.
Neil’s heart flutters at the word.
“Yes?” Andrew whispers.
“Yes,” Neil confirms.
He has the strangest urge to giggle, his lips splitting into a smile that Andrew quickly smothers with his own, finally sinking into his mouth with a depth and urgency that Neil was missing from before. It causes him to moan, spreading his legs wider so that Andrew can step between them and slowly trace his hands up Neil’s back.
“Ugh,” someone says.
Both Neil’s and Andrew’s heads whip up at the sound.
Aaron stands in the doorframe, looking at them with a twisted look on his face. “What the hell is Josten doing here?”
Andrew doesn’t bother responding.
Which works because Aaron isn’t looking for an answer anyway. He simply walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, still talking at Neil. “God, get out of my room. Asshole. This is the worst.”
“I think you mean the best!” Nicky grins as he walks in two seconds later. Kevin follows behind him.
Andrew glares at them. “You said you were going out.”
“We did,” Kevin shrugs. “It was boring. We came back.”
Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
“Oh my god!” Nicky looks down at the pizza box in disgust. “Who ordered Hawaiian? This is sacrilege.”
Neil blushes a bit, and Andrew gruffly says, “It’s Neil’s favorite.”
“It is?” Nicky blinks for a second, registering the information. His eyes soften a little. Then he scoffs, “Seriously, Neil? And to think, I used to like you! That’s it. I’m sorry, but we can no longer be friends.”
Neil relaxes when he hears Nicky’s teasing tone. “Can I get that in writing?”
“Asshole. You wound me, Neil! But seriously, though - who puts fruit on pizza?”
“Me!” Matt pops his head in the door. “Did someone buy Hawaiian pizza? I freaking love Hawaiian pizza!”
“You would,” Nicky says darkly.
Neil sticks his tongue out at Nicky before he pointedly asks Matt, “Do you want some, friend?”
“Hell yeah, I do!” Matt grins, immediately bounding over to the counter.
“Did someone say free pizza?” Seth slides into the room on his socks. “Because I am there, baby.” He sidles up to the counter. “Ugh, is this Hawaiian?”
“Yep! It’s Neil’s favorite, did you know?”
“Nope. Gross.”
“Why are you taking two pieces then?”
“Because it’s free pizza, Hemmick. I’m a broke-ass college kid - what do you think?”
Allison walks in three seconds later, her hair twisted up into a bun and silk boxers on. “Is this a thing? Are we doing movie night?” She leans back out into the hall. “RENEE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! WE’RE DOING MOVIE NIGHT!”
“COMING!”
Andrew lets out a heavy sigh.
Dan rounds the corner into the room and flops over onto the arm of the chair Matt’s claimed. “Okay, I rounded up our resident Franco and the third Golden State boy.”
“We have names, you know,” Jean tells her dryly as he walks in hand-in-hand with Jeremy.
Dan grins at him. “Oh, I know.”
He huffs. But he doesn’t say any more about it as Jeremy draws him into his lap on one of the beanbags.
Renee comes rushing into the room a second later, her face flushed and a basket in her arms. “They just came out of the oven, so they’re still a little warm!” She tells the room at large.
Andrew perks up. Immediately, he takes the basket from her, grabs three enormous chocolate chip cookies from it, then dumps it on the counter for the rest of the wolves. He snags a corner of Neil’s blanket and tugs him over to the couch, dragging him down to sit next to him on it.
“What are we watching?” Allison pipes up, hunting through DVDs.
“That one,” Andrew points to a DVD on the coffee table.
Allison squints at it. “Really?”
“Neil picked it,” Andrew points at him. Again, Neil blushes.
Allison’s eyebrows raise. “Really? Damn, Josten never picks. Okay then. Let’s see what terrible taste our mob child has.”
The room gets settled, Kevin hopping down onto the couch next to Neil and Aaron squeezing into the corner next to him. Seth and Allison grab the last beanbag chair while Nicky gives Renee the other armchair, sitting down on the floor at her feet.
As the opening credits get rolling, Andrew mutters to Neil, “Share the damn blanket, Josten.”
“Don’t wanna move.”
Andrew rolls his eyes before he grabs a corner of the blanket and tugs. “I knew you’d be terrible at sharing. Backstabber.”
Neil smirks before he unwraps the blanket, covering them both with it. “Guess I’ll have to learn if I want to be on your team.”
Andrew looks at him. “Would you still run?”
“Not without you.”
Andrew huffs.
Neil leans closer. “You’re the only one I’d go back for.”
“Liar. You’d go back for all of them.”
Neil smiles as he looks around the room and feels Andrew’s pinky snag his under the blanket. “Yeah, you’re right. I would.”