Chapter Text
“I’m taking my turn now.”
It took Neil a few seconds to realise that Andrew was referring to the question game they’d started at the Halloween Bash. He gestured for Andrew to go on. The two of them were sitting sideways on Andrew’s bed, back against the gray wall. The soft sounds of Aaron and Nicky chatting and listening to music drifted up from the living area.
“Why do you live with your uncle?”
Neil shifted on the bed. The rest of his friends knew the bare bones of the story; he had abusive parents who were both gone and was adopted by his rich, British uncle who works as an accountant. But Neil thought Andrew deserved more than the bare bones. Maybe because he knew Andrew would accept it if Neil couldn’t answer, or maybe because Neil trusted him.
“My father worked for the mafia,” he said plainly, eyes fixed on the wall. “He was pretty high-up. And he liked what he did.” Neil took a breath. “He liked cutting and slicing people. He had a huge collection of knives and cleavers and axes. Anything that could chop or sever a limb.” Neil didn’t think about his father much anymore, not unless he was forced to, vulnerable in his sleep.
“What he did at work he practiced at home, sometimes,” Neil continued. “To punish me, keep me quiet, keep me in line. My mom, too, when he was in a mood.” Neil had tried, was trying not to put his mom on the pedestal she’d occupied. To a younger Neil, her misgivings were easier to forgive, when compared to his father’s. A slap wasn’t a knife. A bruising grip on his wrist wasn’t a slice across his ribs. Now, with the help of his uncle and time, Neil was realising that she was abusive too, and that her abuse still affected him, even if it wasn’t in the same way his father’s did.
Neil cautioned a glance at Andrew, who was watching, listening silently. He pressed on.
“My mom eventually had enough. She took me and we ran. My father was killed. Then my mother was. Mafia-related. Both shot.” Neil took another breath. “Uncle Stuart tracked me down and offered to move over here and take me in.”
Andrew nodded, fingers clenching around his ankles where they’d been resting. “Are you safe now?”
Neil nodded. “Anyone who might have wanted to kill me or get to me was either killed or arrested.” The FBI had taken the information Neil was able to provide after his parents’ deaths and were able to take down the Butcher’s remaining inner-circle and any other potential threats. There was also the fact that Uncle Stuart, though retired from that lifestyle, was good with a gun.
Andrew took a deep breath and nodded again. “You didn’t have to tell me all of that.”
“I wanted to.”
“Ask me something.”
“Why do you and Aaron live with Nicky?”
Andrew tilted his head back, resting it on the wall, exposing the pale line of his throat. “He took us in when Aaron’s mother died in a car accident.” Andrew didn’t seem bothered by the loss. “Aaron and I were given up the minute we popped out of the bitch,” he continued, voice impassive. “It didn’t stick, though. She took one back. Aaron. I was shuffled between foster homes for years until someone mistook me for Aaron. I lived with Aaron for a few months before his mother died. Then Nicky heard what happened from his parents and dropped everything to take us in.”
Neil watched Andrew swallow, the low lamplight casting shadows across his face.
“We’re both pretty fucked up, huh,” Neil mused.
Andrew grunted in agreement. Neil shifted and stretched his legs out in front of him, raising his arms over his head. He’d been sitting in the same position for over an hour.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Nicky’s head poked inside. “Andrew, Aaron wants to go out for Mexican food on your birthday, is that okay with you? Oh, hi Neil.”
Neil waved.
“That’s fine,” Andrew said.
After Nicky left, Neil turned to Andrew. “It’s your birthday soon?”
“Tomorrow.”
Neil’s phone buzzed. It was Stuart, letting him know he was picking him up soon.
“See you later,” Neil said to Andrew at the front door.
Andrew nodded, then glanced around, looking thoughtful. “You… can come tomorrow,” he said. “To the restaurant. If you want.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Aaron is inviting Kevin.”
Neil smiled softly. “Okay.”
Andrew nodded. “We’ll pick you up at six.”
-
Nicky and the twins were clearly regulars at the restaurant. The hostess greeted Nicky with a hug and led them to a secluded booth in the corner. Kevin had brought his ear defenders but didn’t need them with how little sound reached their table.
Andrew and Aaron refused to let Nicky tell the waiter that it was their birthday, which had Nicky pouting for five minutes before he was distracted by the arrival of chips and salsa. One of the salsa dishes was mild, and the other spicy. Aaron scooped up a huge glob of what he thought was mild, but turned out to be spicy, and was coughing and sweating and leaking out of his eyes so much that Nicky nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Kevin was handing him napkins and pushing Aaron’s drink closer to him. Andrew’s lip twitched and he maintained eye-contact with Aaron while shoving a chip with the spicy salsa on it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing - no coughing and no sweat. Neil was beside himself with pride that his twin was able to handle his spice. Neil wasn’t quite sure what that reaction meant, but he’d deal with it later.
After Aaron recovered, eyes only watering a bit, they ordered food and their drinks were refilled. When Neil was only a third of the way through his enchilada, he got up to go to the bathroom. Andrew, who had already finished his second soda, followed. Neil was silently grateful; using public toilets still made him anxious - there was always a risk of harassment.
Neil went into the stall as Andrew headed for the urinal, and they met back up at the sinks. A few seconds later a tall man dressed in slacks walked in and looked right at Neil, who ducked his head and focused on washing his hands, which were starting to shake.
“Problem?” Andrew asked, turning to face the man.
The man blinked. “Uh. No. Sorry.” He turned and disappeared into the stall.
Neil let out a long, shaky breath and slumped against the counter. Andrew reached over and turned off the sink, handing Neil a paper towel.
“Breathe,” he said lowly, letting Neil lean on him.
Neil’s body reacted to the command, relaxing slightly, taking comfort in Andrew’s close proximity. Once Neil had calmed down, they made their way back to the table where Nicky was wiping up his spilled Coke.
“What happened?” Neil asked, sliding back into his seat, hoping his expression was neutral.
“The idiot was talking about Erik Klose and accidentally punched his glass,” Aaron said, scowling. “Now my quesadillas are wet.”
“Are you sure they’re not just wet from your tears?” Andrew snarked.
Aaron flipped him off.
“I said sorry,” Nicky huffed, tossing his soaking napkin off to the side. “I just got excited.”
“Brushing elbows with some random dude isn’t worth getting excited about,” Aaron said.
Nicky drew himself up. “Erik Klose is not just some random dude.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Kevin glanced at Neil and frowned, a question in his eyes. Neil shook his head, hoping Kevin wouldn’t ask about it. But of course, Kevin was Kevin, and he cared about his friends, so as they were waiting out front for Nicky to pull the car around, Kevin pulled Neil away from the twins.
“What happened?”
“Some guy was looking at me weird in the bathroom and I started to panic,” Neil said. “But I’m fine.”
Kevin raked his eyes up and down Neil’s body, as if inspecting him for injuries. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Andrew helped me calm down.”
Kevin glanced over his shoulder. Andrew was leaning against the restaurant, chewing on a mint, nodding at something Aaron was saying.
“You like him, don’t you?” Kevin asked.
“What? Of course I like him.” Kevin knew Neil wouldn’t hang out with people he didn’t like.
Kevin shook his head. “No, I mean you like him. Romantically.”
Neil’s gaze snapped over to Andrew. Andrew and his tousled hair, his lightly freckled face, his sturdy shoulders. Neil thought of how much he enjoyed being in Andrew’s company, talking, not talking, playing video games, eating. It struck Neil, then, how much he’d revealed to Andrew about his life, and how much Andrew had revealed in return. That level of trust wasn’t something Neil would give to just anybody. And it was safe to assume the same for Andrew, who was a notoriously private person, conservative with his words and truths.
“Maybe,” Neil said to Kevin.
Kevin made an amused sound and wandered back over to the twins. Andrew slid a sideways glance at Neil, beckoning him over with a tilt of his head.
Nicky suggested Neil and Kevin sleepover, and after getting permission from their respective guardians, Nicky drove them all back to his house.
“Is this a pyjama party?” Neil asked as Andrew tossed him a fluffy pair of penguin-themed pyjama bottoms and a matching top.
Andrew grimaced, picking up his plain black pyjamas. “No.”
“But we’re going to be wearing pyjamas,” Neil argued. “And this is your birthday party.”
“This is not a party,” Andrew said, apparently disgusted by the idea.
“What is it then?”
Andrew paused to think. “Just a sleepover.”
Neil leaned against the doorjamb. “I’ve never been to a sleepover,” he admitted.
Andrew glanced at him. “Now you have.”
Neil smiled and held up the clothes in his hands. “Where should I change? Kevin’s using the bathroom.”
Andrew gestured to his bedroom. “We can change here, facing away from each other.”
“Okay.” Neil stepped further into the room, turned and began changing. “Isn’t this what married couples who are about to get divorced do in movies?”
That startled a sharp, amused huff out of Andrew.
Neil finished changing but wasn’t sure if Andrew was done, so he just stood there.
“You can turn around.”
Neil did and came face to face with an adorably rumpled, sleepy-looking Andrew. He wasn’t sure how the simple act of putting on pyjamas was able to make Andrew look so soft, but he wasn’t complaining.
Kevin and Aaron, both also dressed in pyjamas, appeared at the door to say goodnight. Then Andrew slid into bed and held the covers back for Neil.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Neil asked, hesitating. “I can sleep on the floor.”
Andrew huffed. “I’m sure. It’s a yes.”
Neil climbed in beside Andrew and pulled the covers up to his chin. It was already toasty from Andrew’s body heat.
“I’m glad you moved to our school,” Neil said quietly.
Andrew said nothing, but his eyes were intensely focused on Neil. He nodded.
“It’s your turn to ask me something,” Neil said.
Andrew hummed. “How did your parents react to you coming out?”
Neil turned over on his side so he was facing Andrew, half a foot of space between them. “Well, it was after my father was out of the picture. And my mom didn’t listen to me the first time I told her I was a boy,” he said. “When I told her again she said I was just confused. She didn’t understand. She thought I was trying to be like my father.” Neil’s stomach roiled at the memory, the sickening thought that maybe he would turn into Nathan. “She mostly ignored me after that. Wouldn’t use the right pronouns or name. Beat me when I brought it up. I was only able to change my name, have top surgery and get my T gel when I moved in with Stuart.”
Andrew tilted his head. “Are you safe here,” he asked, “with your uncle?”
Neil nodded. “I’ve never felt safer.”
“Good.” Andrew fiddled with the edge of the blankets and then reached his hand forward.
Neil blinked at it.
“Hold my stupid hand, yes or no?” Andrew muttered.
“Oh.” Neil scooted a little bit closer to Andrew. “Yes.”
Andrew reached forward and clasped Neil’s left hand in his right one. “Okay?”
Neil nodded. “I want to kiss you,” he said. “One day. If you’d like.”
Andrew nodded, hand squeezing Neil’s. “I’d like that.”
Neil smiled softly and drifted to sleep, Andrew’s hand in his.