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Something From Nothing

Summary:

Andrew goes to one of Neil's games and is unamused to find his idiot of a husband playing with an injury. What follows is Andrew's first meeting with Neil's coach who learns just why you shouldn't fuck with Andrew Minyard's people.

Technically a prequel to my other story 'That Isn't Nothing' but can be read as a standalone.

Notes:

Hello! I bring you this crumb to hold you over until the Andrew fic is completed. I promise I'm still working on it, but one of my other fics has taken over my life and turned much lengthier than expected.

So, in the meantime I'll let you discover the eventful way Andrew met Coach Brown for the first time. Sorry it's short, I originally intended for this to be the prologue of the Andrew story, but I changed my mind.

I really hope you like it!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:


It was the last game of the regular season before the qualifiers began and the Rebels were barely hanging on by a thread. The game was rough from the start, both teams needing this last win to hold onto their seed and hopefully end up in the better bracket. The Rebels were the favorites to win, having the superior offense line while their defense was on roughly the same levels as the Miami Dolphins. But what no one had counted on was Neil injuring his foot barely ten minutes into the game. Coach Brown had pulled him the second he started limping and the rest of the team had slowly but surely started falling apart at the seams.

They were desperate now, down to the last fifteen minutes of the game and losing by two points. Coach Brown had used up all his tricks, with no less than three players out with injuries and another two with red cards he was down to his last string.

Andrew watched everything from his spot nearly hidden in the corner of the VIP box. He had come to this game because it was close, and he knew Neil would do something stupid. Just earlier that week he had mentioned offhand that he had pulled something in practice and Andrew knew that he hadn’t done anything to rest it or treat it since. So, he wasn’t surprised that Neil had gotten hurt, he had been expecting it.

What he didn’t expect was for the clock to hit the ten-minute mark and Coach Brown to put Neil back in. Of course, Neil didn’t care, he would keep playing if his leg was a bloody stump so long as he could still hold a racket.

He stands from his seat, going as close to the glass as he could get. Even from this distance he could see that Neil was in pain, he was still limping, and he was much slower than he normally was. He could barely stand, much less run right now and Andrew was ready to storm the court and drag him off and straight back home to Atlanta.

At least, he would be doing that if he didn’t think Neil would fight him every step of the way. He didn’t mind that so much, but it was a lot of extra effort for something that he could do in a few minutes anyways. Plus, Neil would no doubt whine and that was just annoying to deal with.

It takes less than three minutes for Neil to hit the ground and not get back up. Andrew would be more worried if not for the way Neil angrily throws down his racket as a new sub comes on. Whatever Coach Brown was hoping to achieve seems to have worked because Neil had scored once in the short time he had played and the team was revitalized by his anger, leading them to score once more before the buzzer went off. The shootout was uneventful, taking more than a few shots before the Rebels finally managed to block a shot, earning the win.

Andrew doesn’t waste time watching their celebration, making his way out of the box and towards the Rebel’s locker room. He waits outside, far enough that none of the team would see him if he didn’t want them to, but close enough that he would spot Neil when he left.

It doesn’t take long for Neil to show up, but when he does Andrew has to clench his fist to keep from knocking his head off his shoulders. Neil was limping heavily, hopping along next to Coach Brown as they headed out. There wasn’t anyone around, so Andrew doesn’t bother stopping himself from taking quick steps to their side.

Coach Brown looks up first, his eyes lighting in recognition before Andrew’s fist meets his face in a satisfying crunch, knocking him to the ground. He hears Neil make a sound of surprise, but he doesn’t look over until the coach looks up with a scowl.

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Minyard?”

Andrew takes a threatening step forward, forcibly unclenching his hands.

“If you ever let him play like that again I won’t stop at just one.” He snarls before turning towards Neil. He’s staring at him in a mixture of shock and fondness that makes Andrew want to roll his eyes. Leave it to Neil to think punching someone was a form of affection.

“Drew,” He murmurs as Andrew rakes his eyes over him, looking for an injury he knew he couldn’t see. “You’re here.”

“Your observational skills are as sharp as ever.” He drawls, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He wasn’t going soft, no matter what Neil said. No, he was simply making sure that he understood just how serious he was. “I told you not to play.”

Neil smiles because of course he does. “I’m fine.”

Andrew raises a brow as Neil grimaces a little at the familiar words.

“Liar.” He states, dropping his hand.

“It was a reflex.” Neil defends. “But it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Say that when you can actually walk again.” Andrew scolds, wrapping an arm around his waist to support his weight.

“Are you going to carry me until I can?” Neil teases, leaning into his hold.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

A groan from the floor catches their attention and they look down to find Coach Brown slowly picking himself up, one hand clutching his freely bleeding nose.

“Something you need to tell me, Josten?” He mutters, throwing a glare towards Andrew that doesn’t even faze him.

Andrew is fully prepared to hit him again, but Neil reaches down and slowly unwraps his fingers. He allows it, only because he has a feeling that whatever explanation Neil gave to his coach would no doubt be more entertaining than watching him writhe in pain.

Neil shrugs. “Not really. Everything you need to know about me was in my file.”

Coach Brown arches a brow, giving a pointed look towards Andrew.

“I don’t remember seeing anything about Andrew Minyard in there.”

Neil huffs. “Then you didn’t look very hard.”

Coach Brown stares at where Andrew’s hand is still wrapped tight around Neil’s hip and the way Neil’s hand is still holding onto Andrew’s own.

“It doesn’t say you’re dating anyone.” Coach Brown says assuredly.

“Because we aren’t dating.” Neil fires back. “He’s my husband.”

Coach Brown gapes, looking between them like he was waiting for the punchline. When nothing comes from either man, he tries to pull himself together, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess I might have skimmed over your marriage status.” He coughs. “That being said, I don’t appreciate you barging in here, husband or not. If I was anyone else, then I wouldn’t hesitate to have you suspended for assaulting a coach.”

Andrew scoffs, rolling his eyes and shifting so that Neil was slightly behind him. He didn’t trust his idiot not to try and fight his coach himself for threatening him and in his condition, he would only injure himself further.

“And I don’t appreciate you putting this idiot on the court when he’s injured. He’s too stupid to tell you no, but you’re supposed to be the responsible one here.”

Coach Brown crosses his arms, regarding the two men seriously.

“I did what I had to for the sake of the team.”

“Do it again and I’ll make sure he never steps foot on your court again.” Andrew threatens. He knows Brown can’t afford to lose Neil, just like he knows Neil wouldn’t fight him if Andrew asked him to transfer. Brown might not know, but if he had caused Neil a more serious injury tonight then his career wouldn’t be the only thing at risk.

Coach Brown sizes him up, likely trying to call his bluff. He doesn’t seem happy when he realizes that Andrew is completely serious.

“We have a contract.”

Andrew gives him a blank stare. “And I have a net worth of millions. Believe me, I can afford the fine.”

Neil smiles at his side, nudging him with his elbow.

“You think I’m worth that much?”

Andrew huffs, hating that he finds his stupid face cute.

“Wipe that smile off your face.” He states. “I’m just tired of getting calls from the hospital.”

Neil nods like he understands though Andrew can tell he sees through that excuse just like he always manages to do when Andrew is full of shit.

“Whatever you say.” He concedes. Andrew knows that isn’t the end of it, it never is when it comes to Neil. “Can you take me home now?”

Andrew raises a brow at the strain on his face. He could lie all he wanted but Andrew could see he was hurting more than he let on. “I thought you were fine?”

Neil grumbles under his breath as he leans more heavily against Andrew’s side.

“I lied.” He admits. “Are you happy? Can we leave?”

Andrew hums, tugging him further into his side.

“Don’t you have reporters to mouth off to?”

Neil’s reporter smile crosses his face, the one that he says reminds him of his father. Andrew liked this smile because it was physical proof that Neil was as off in the head as Andrew was. It made him look unhinged in an unfairly attractive way that drew Andrew in like a moth to a flame or a Neil Josten to an exy court.

“Maybe you should join me.” He suggests.

“Absolutely not.” Brown shoots down. Andrew would rather he stay quiet, it made him feel much less homicidal when he could pretend like he wasn’t still there. “Both of you get out of here before the press catches wind of all this.”

Neil doesn’t argue for once in his life, instead he tugs at Andrew’s hand.

“Let’s go then. We can get ice cream on the way to the hotel.”

He doesn’t warrant that with a response, though he feels something sickly sweet pooling in his gut. Leave it to Neil to think about him when he was the one that was injured and suffering.

Andrew adjusts his grip as he helps Neil limp towards the doors. They make it nearly to the end of the hall before Andrew gets tired of their slow pace and stops.

Neil looks over, rightly confused. His confusion doesn’t last long as Andrew bends down in front of him and tugs at his wrist.

“Up.” He demands.

"You know I was kidding when I asked if you would carry me." Neil states, eyes wide with surprise.

"I wasn't."

Neil hesitates, hands fluttering around Andrew’s shoulders.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure if you don’t get on in the next three seconds I’m leaving you here.”

Andrew counts to two before Neil makes a choice and hops onto his back. He wraps his hands around his legs as Neil’s arms loosely circle his chest.

“Let me know if it’s a no.” Neil says seriously. He would be worried about something like that when he can barely even walk. Then again, that was why Andrew trusted him enough to even offer in the first place. If Andrew said no then Neil would limp his way to the car without complaint, never touching Andrew unless it became a yes.

“Junkie.” Andrew mutters as he resumes heading for the door.

“All yours.” Neil teases.

Andrew doesn’t warrant that with a response and Neil doesn’t say another word as they finally leave the stadium behind. They share desperate kisses once they are safely in the Maserati, but that is the only reunion Andrew will allow before making the drive back to the hotel. He would’ve driven straight home, but Neil needed to rest his leg and a nine-hour drive was not going to help with that.

Tonight, they will rest, sleeping well for the first time in weeks. Andrew can deny it all he wants, but he missed Neil and could feel nothing but contentment at having him back at his side.

Tomorrow he will blast Neil’s coach on twitter, letting the fans drag him through the mud for what he has done to Neil. But that’s a problem for a different day.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope to see you soon with a brand new story. Stay tuned!!

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