Archive of Our Own ^beta

There is no this. This is nothing. 

All bright things burn, in the end. Andrew had told him how it was going to be from the beginning. Neil shouldn’t have expected any different. 

But he did, and it burned. 

Oh, how bright it was though. Beautiful while it lasted. 

He would remember that, in the years to follow.

*

“So you’re a thing now?” Nicky asked a week after the Foxes had won the championship, after Neil had gotten everything he ever wanted and watched Riko die on the same day. Neil was still in a half-state of dreaming over the incident. “Like, officially?”

Andrew shook his head, eyes a poisonous warning to prey in the wild. Neil just shrugged, despite the voice in his head telling him yes. 

“Right,” Nicky said when he watched both of their responses to his question. He looked around at the other Foxes, all gathered in the locker room. “Bets on how long it will last?” It was a joke, his tone amiable, his grin mischievous. But Andrew stiffened just a fraction and Neil tensed. 

Neil was surprised at Nicky, that he would joke about his cousin’s love life when he knew Nicky wanted Andrew to be happy. If happiness was truly in Andrew’s vocabulary. Maybe contentment. Placidity. A little peace. Happiness seemed too grand a concept for Andrew, at least at present. But imagining a far-off future made Neil’s thoughts spiral down a path he wasn’t yet prepared to face. He’d told himself this was everything he wanted, everything he needed, and he was never letting go, but he’d been caught up in the moment. He glanced at Andrew, who was sitting close to him but staring at nothing on the far wall. They’d have to talk at some point. At least so Neil could get his feelings out in the open. Transparency was best with Andrew, he’d learned. 

“No more betting on relationships,” Matt said, shooting Andrew and Neil an apprehensive glance before he looked back at Nicky. 

Relationship. Is that what it was? 

There were a thousand words to choose from, but Neil didn’t know if any one of them quite fit what he and Andrew were. 

They’d have to talk. 

*

Kissing was easier than talking. They didn’t have to think when their lips were pressed together, tongues meeting softly. It was nice. Better than that.  If there was such a thing as bliss, this was the closest Neil would ever come to experiencing it. Slow, drawn out moments of silence with Andrew, the world paused around them while they shared their own private universe. 

Bliss. Or at least pretty damn close to it. 

Andrew’s fingers tightened on Neil’s bare waist as Neil found that special spot on his neck, kissing it pink. Andrew shuddered, jaw tightening as his eyes slid shut. Neil kissed the magic spot again, tongue tracing the skin this time. He pressed his lips to it softly, again and again, chasing Andrew’s steadily rising pulse until Andrew pulled his head back, hand bunched in Neil’s auburn hair. His eyes were narrowed with what might’ve been mistaken for anger or annoyance if someone was looking at him from a few feet away. Up close, Neil saw the veiled desire. Want and heat. Andrew’s hazel eyes were bright, and they burned in the best way. Neil’s skin flushed, his body heating. He bit his lip. Andrew’s eyes followed the movement. 

“Yes or no?” Neil whispered, fingers running through the soft strands of Andrew’s hair. 

“Yes,” Andrew said, low and deep, and Neil spread his legs a little wider on the couch. 

Kissing was easier than talking. 

*

There were long nights where they talked about everything and nothing. But never about the thing they needed to talk about the most. 

Neil would babble and prattle and monologue until Andrew silenced him with a gesture or a kiss or a word, and sometimes Andrew would talk back to him. His shell opened slowly. His heart unlocked slower. His trust in Neil built, and Neil’s happiness grew. It was a bubble, a balloon waiting to pop. They were content. They coexisted. They were something, not nothing, but the something was still as yet undefined. Neil thought he was alright with that. As long as he could have Andrew to fall asleep next to, Andrew to wake up beside, Andrew to touch and look at and be with. Nicky called it hooking up, when Neil caught him gossiping to the team in the beginning of it. The new freshmen recruits called it friends with benefits. It was teaching and learning. Giving and taking. 

Andrew’s words were in his actions, his gestures, and Neil spoke his language fluently after a while. He knew his feelings were reciprocated, whatever those feelings were. 

As yet undefined. Words couldn’t quite categorize them. 

*

“He’s Andrew’s boyfriend,” Nicky said once when one of the new recruits asked just what was going on with their captain and their goalkeeper. 

Andrew nearly punched him. 

Neil didn’t know what that meant. 

Neither did he understand the bright and burning feeling he experienced at Nicky’s words. 

*

Friends with benefits seemed to be the most apt description, when Neil really thought about it. They were friends. More than that, but they were friends. They slept together when they felt like it, and they hung out when they didn’t want to sleep together, when Andrew didn’t want to touch. It was nice. It was good. And Neil could see the benefits - it was changing Andrew, mentally and emotionally. He was climbing to a better place the longer it went on. As for Neil, it was helping him figure out who he was and what he liked. So they were friends with benefits. 

But still more.

*

It was a year, and then two, then three, and it was like Neil took a breath, and Andrew was graduating. They hadn’t talked about what they would do, what this would mean, how it would go now. They hadn’t decided how it would work. Instead, they’d spent their time getting lost in each other, coveting minutes and seconds and dragging them out, trying to make them last as long as they could. It was like they both knew they were heading towards an end. 

Neil wanted to say the words to get Andrew to admit the truth. Three years and their conversations had gotten deeper, their touches had gotten more meaningful, their time together had become more precious. But Andrew never said anything like forever. Neil assumed it just was. He didn’t want to say anything, because he was beginning to realize, maybe a little too late, that he wanted things with Andrew. His feelings went deeper than he’d thought possible, and it terrified him. What if Andrew didn’t want the same things, what if he didn’t feel the same way? It was a question Neil didn’t want to risk asking. He’d rather hold on to what he had now than lose everything.

Maybe that was his mistake.

Later, when he was older, he’d ask himself why he didn’t fight for it more. He’d fought for so many things in his life and won. But when it counted the most, he gave up like a coward.

*

Andrew stood in front of the mirror on his graduation day, dressed in his cap and gown. The gown hung off him, and the cap looked ridiculous, clunky and stupid. He sighed. 

He could hear Neil moving around in the kitchen outside, making coffee before they had to leave for the ceremony. There’d been a rock in his stomach for days, and he didn’t know how to dislodge it. 

No, that was a lie. He knew how to get rid of it. He was just too much of a coward to do it. Admitting what he really wanted might kill him. He’d survived a lot of things in his life. Neil Josten had turned him into a better man, had taught him how to be comfortable with what he wanted, had taught him the true meaning of need and desire. Andrew was lucky. He was lucky that he’d been able to have Neil at all, in any capacity. 

Better to let him go now, then, before Andrew did something to fuck it up. Which was, he decided, inevitable. He thought he was strong enough to survive on his own now; Neil had taught him that he could, and he wanted to try, at least. 

He would wait until after the ceremony. In a week, he was moving to Colorado with Kevin to play for the professional team they’d both signed onto. Neil had a year left at Palmetto. Andrew wondered if they’d keep in touch. He might try, at first, though he’d never been good at texting. Neil would have to put effort into it if he wanted to talk. 

He made a disgusted expression at his reflection in the mirror and went outside. The corner of Neil’s mouth lifted in a smile at the sight of him, his eyes warm. 

“What,” Andrew said. Neil shrugged. 

“Nothing. Just . . . you look good.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and claimed his coffee, but not before he pulled Neil down by the collar for a kiss. Neil held onto him for longer than Andrew kissed him, but Andrew didn’t pull away. They had a few minutes. 

When they finished their coffee and headed for the door - everyone else was waiting on them - Neil stopped Andrew with a hand to his wrist. 

“What?” Andrew asked again, eyebrow raised this time. Neil gave him a look that made Andrew feel deeply known, and he held back a shudder. 

“I’m really proud of you,” Neil said, his voice too soft. 

Andrew stared at him for a moment before he kissed him again, tasting coffee on his tongue. 

*

“Andrew Joseph Minyard. Major in Criminal Justice, minor in Social Work, and goalie for the championship-winning Palmetto State Foxes Exy team.”

Andrew walked across the stage, heedless of the polite applause. He was more conscious of the booming screams, shouts, and echoing claps of his teammates in the audience. Matt whooped. Dan hollered. Nicky was crying and shouting. Renee even raised her voice a little, a smile on her face. Bee made sure to clap as loud as she could, and Wymack and Abby stood up and cheered. Neil was standing next to Matt, clapping along with him, his own smile painting his face a beautiful shade of that pride he’d spoken of earlier. Even Kevin was grinning. Aaron was standing with Coach and Abby, and Andrew could see him clapping when he turned his head. Robin Cross was jumping up and down next to Neil, hands raised high in support of Andrew. 

Andrew would miss her when he left. He hadn’t meant to take her in, to make her part of his family, but he didn’t regret it. He would miss her. He’d miss all of them. It was a small comfort that he wasn’t leaving Neil alone. 

Different majors meant different colleges within the university, which meant separate graduation ceremonies. Aaron’s had been yesterday, and they’d all been there too. Even the ones who’d already graduated. All the girls, Nicky, Matt and Kevin. Andrew hadn’t reached out to any of them, hadn’t asked if any of them would come, hadn’t cared. But they’d shown up anyway. Neil had something to do with it, he was sure. 

His own personal cheering section quieted down when he stepped off the stage after shaking the dean’s hand. He went back to his seat in alphabetical order and closed his eyes, waiting for the rest of the ceremony to be over. 

He had done it. He’d graduated. He’d finished college in one piece, whole, alive. Better than he’d been before. And that was all due, in large part, to one person. 

Andrew was leaving him in a week, but at least he’d have Kevin. He didn’t think it would be terrible. His brother was staying here, though moving halfway across the state for med school with Katelyn. Neil had one more year, his last hurrah as illustrious captain of their beloved team. 

Andrew knew he’d do a good job. He’d make Wymack proud, like he always did. He’d bring the team to victory, like he always did. He didn’t need Andrew to stay. They could call. Text. Write. Whatever. Maybe visit each other. 

Andrew didn’t think as far as that. Didn’t wonder if maybe they should talk about it. He decided his best plan of action was to let things happen as they happened. He’d never held onto a thing as bright and beautiful as this; he didn’t know what to do with it. He destroyed everything he touched, but Neil had remained somehow unmarred by his poisonous Midas thumb. Andrew thought if Neil stayed around him long enough, though, it was bound to happen. And Neil was . . . Andrew couldn’t bear to see him go up in flames. Though he’d stopped setting fires to his life as much now that a certain blue-eyed Exy-obsessed idiot had entered his stratosphere. It wouldn’t matter, in the end, Andrew decided. Somehow, someday, he’d find some way to mess it up, so it was better to let it fizzle and remember it as it had been. 

He just . . . wouldn’t tell Neil. The junkie would figure it out on his own. Eventually. 

*

Neil helped Andrew pack up the rest of the boxes. 

“That everything?” he asked, staring around at the bare remains of his dorm room. He tried not to feel lonely already. It wasn’t time yet. 

Andrew nodded, eyes cataloging the room for anything he might’ve missed. He looked at Neil. Kissed him for a long time.

Later, when he was gone, Neil saw that he did leave something behind. There was a note with it. 

It was one of Andrew’s jerseys. The note was written in his careful scrawl, tucked into the sleeve. 

Don’t lose my number.

Neil stared at the note for a while, and then folded it up and put it in his pocket. When he picked up the jersey, something else fell out of it. 

It was a key on a chain. A week ago, Andrew had asked Neil for his key to the Columbia house, the one he’d given him what felt like eons ago. Neil hadn’t questioned it and gave him the key. He usually always had it on his person; it was one of his most prized possessions, as silly as that was. But he trusted Andrew with it as much as he trusted him with his life, so he’d given it up. He hadn’t realized Andrew never returned it. 

When Neil picked it up from the floor, he saw that it was engraved now. One word in Russian, the language he and Andrew had learned together last year. It was their private way of speaking. Спасибо, or spasibo. It meant thank you.

Neil hung the key around his neck. A few nights later he started wearing Andrew’s jersey to bed. 

*

“Hey, Neil. Wanna get a milkshake?” Robin smiled at Neil and dragged him out of the stupor his homework had put him in. He nodded, grateful for the excuse to get out of the dorm. He shoved his books aside and stood up, grabbing his wallet from the desk. 

They went to a new cafe on campus that had popped up in the last year. They had excellent desserts, and it had become one of Andrew’s new favorite spots before he graduated. Neil’s last date - he couldn’t think of a better word to use, even though it didn’t feel quite right - with him was there. Andrew got the sugariest thing they had on the menu, and Neil laughed while he watched him eat it with a blank face. He’d taken a picture of how big the glass was. 

Neil didn’t have the same sweet tooth Andrew did, but he bought the same milkshake Andrew got the last time. He took a picture and texted it to him. 

It had been months - summer had passed, Neil’s senior year had started, and winter break was already fast approaching. Neil didn’t know if he was going to see Andrew over the break. They hadn’t seen each other since he’d left for Colorado. There’d been a few phone calls, a few texts here and there, and nothing more. They were both busy; Neil was occupied with captaining the team and trying to keep up with his studies and Andrew was . . . he didn’t really know what Andrew was doing in Colorado. Neil assumed he was busy. He never asked Kevin about it when they spoke. 

He didn’t expect Andrew to be calling him every week. Neil knew he wasn’t that type of person. The texts he got from him were enough. 

Neil was glad he had Robin. She was a good friend, and she was enough to keep him from being too lonely. She reminded him so much of Andrew that it eased the dull ache of him being gone. He also had dinner with Abby and Wymack once a week, and he looked forward to that routine more than anything. Matt and Dan still came to visit often, and Nicky called to talk to him every week. Kevin reached out regularly. Robin convinced Neil to get on social media, and that was how he kept up with Allison and Renee. Neil wasn’t alone. He was fine. 

The occasional texts he got from Andrew were usually brief. It was a lot of dumb pictures of things Andrew saw while he was on the road or traveling with his and Kevin’s team, snapshots of stupid road signs or interesting graffiti or things Andrew found funny. He would send them with no context, and Neil would always reply with What? Andrew’s response was idk ninety-five percent of the time. Neil smirked and shook his head every time he got a new picture he couldn’t understand. That was how their text conversations went, for the most part. Sometimes Neil would send texts to see how Andrew was doing, or he’d update him on the Foxes. Andrew had never been a big texter. They talked more when they actually called each other, maybe once a month. 

They kept in touch. Maybe not consistently - more irregular, every now and then. Andrew hadn’t been back to Palmetto to visit. Neil didn’t know why he would come back anyway, so he wasn’t too upset about it. They each had their own lives.

Over winter break, Neil asked what Andrew’s plans were. He’d had this idea in his head of maybe having all the old Foxes home for the holidays. It would be nice to have them all in one room again. But Allison and Renee were both out of the country, Nicky and Erik couldn’t make it back from Germany this year, and Kevin had already accepted an invitation to spend Christmas with Thea’s family. 

Matt and Dan were close enough that Neil knew he’d be seeing them. He wondered if Andrew would come home to visit his brother. Neil didn’t bother to keep up with Aaron, but he heard from Nicky that he and Katelyn were doing well. He’d also heard that the twins were taking baby steps to mend fences between them. Neil was glad for that, for Andrew’s sake. He’d wanted Andrew to be able to make progress. Nicky had also let it slip that Andrew still talked to Bee regularly, and Neil was glad for that, too. 

He texted Andrew, but Neil didn’t get a response until just before New Year’s, after he’d spent Christmas with Wymack, Abby, Matt and Dan. 

Staying in a hotel until the 2nd, was the text. Followed by the address. It was a question and an invitation. Neil said yes before he could even think about it. 

On New Year’s Eve, Neil met Andrew in his hotel lobby. They hadn’t seen each other in more than six months, and Neil drank in the sight of him, unable to keep the smile from his face. He’d cut his hair. He hadn’t gotten any taller. He’d bulked up a little, and Neil appreciated the muscles he saw. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hi,” Andrew said. There was a pause. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Neil said, a lump in his throat. “Good to see you, too.”

Andrew gestured towards the hotel bar, and Neil followed him over. They ordered drinks. They talked, caught up. It was nice. Neil let himself have more drinks than he usually did, and he found himself moving closer to Andrew the more they spoke. He felt warm. Alive. More aware and awake than he’d felt in months. 

Andrew had a fist pressed to the bar. Neil knew what it looked like when he was close to losing control. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Neil said, voice quiet. “It doesn’t have to be anything, if you -” He stopped himself, swallowing. “It doesn’t have to be anything.” He’d lived without Andrew for years, but now that they were in front of each other again, Neil remembered the weight of Andrew pressed on top of him, into him, and he realized just how long it had been since he’d had it. 

Andrew got up from his stool. He put cash down on the bar. Neil saw the slight tick of his head towards the elevators and followed behind him, heart a drumbeat in his throat. Bright and burning. There was that feeling again. He’d missed it.

They stood close to each other without speaking in the elevator, backs to the wall. Andrew stared at the panel of buttons as they lit up, numbers counting higher. His fists were still tightly clenched. Neil was breathing slowly. 

His room was on the tenth floor. It was a nice hotel, a luxury high-rise in the city. Neil couldn’t take in any of the details. Andrew shut the door behind them as they walked into the room. He put a hand on Neil’s chest and backed him against the door. The hand dropped down to his waist, slowly, charting a deliberate path. His eyes smoldered. His lips parted. 

This had always been easier than talking.

His leg was between Neil’s thighs. His tongue was between Neil’s lips. Neil wanted. In six months he hadn’t thought about this - only Andrew, his presence, his place that used to be beside him, but not this, the intimacy, the closeness. But suddenly faced with it now, Neil was ravenous. 

Andrew had him on his back on the white hotel bed, Neil’s legs wrapped around his thighs, nails raking lines over Andrew’s skin, mouth attached to his neck. They moved against each other fast and deep. Neil remembered this rhythm, this familiar dance. 

Andrew bit his ear and whispered his name. Neil shattered, burying his noises in Andrew’s skin. 

Their sweat cooled, their hearts slowed. 

“What are your plans?” Neil asked into the silence, closing his eyes. “After this?”

There was quiet for a while. 

“Going back to Colorado,” Andrew said. “Finishing out the year with Kevin.”

“And then?” He opened his eyes to see Andrew shrug. He was looking at the ceiling. He didn’t ask what Neil’s plans were. 

They were to go to Colorado, too. Not to be with him - not entirely. Kevin had already told Neil he had a place locked down with the professional team he and Andrew were both playing for. And then there was Court. Andrew hadn’t wanted to join Court, at first, even though Kevin insisted, and Neil had always thought he could make it. But a month after Andrew’s graduation, Neil saw the announcement from the press - Andrew Minyard had accepted a spot on the US national team. Neil had felt filled with pride and joy and something else powerful he couldn’t name, and he’d called to congratulate him. They’d talked for a long time.

So Neil’s plans had really always been leading towards Colorado, he thought. But mostly for Exy. That was what he told himself. 

But to be with Andrew, after Neil graduated and they didn’t have to be apart for so long anymore - that might be nice, too. They could pick up where they’d left off.

Andrew got out of bed first. He moved towards the bathroom, and Neil turned his head to stare at his bare back. There were red marks across his skin, still fading. The feeling they stirred in Neil was a rush of something passionate that made him bite his lip. 

Andrew paused in the bathroom doorway and turned back to look at him. Neil got up from the bed and followed him into the shower. 

*

“Call me,” Neil said before he left the hotel. “Stay in touch, okay? I - miss you.” He tried to correct himself and say something else, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them. He didn’t blush, and he kept his gaze steady on Andrew’s. Andrew looked at him for a long time and then nodded. 

He left Neil with a kiss and a lingering touch on his cheek. Neil didn’t know when they would see each other again. They’d made no plans, no promises except the phone calls. 

Neil spent the rest of winter break on campus with Robin, Wymack and Abby after Andrew left town again. He tried not to check his phone obsessively every few minutes. He didn’t want to be that person. It wasn’t supposed to be like that with them. 

Eventually, Exy became the usual blissful distraction it always was, and Neil forgot to check his phone so much. He needn’t have bothered anyway. Andrew didn’t text him again for almost a month. And when he did, it was a picture of him sitting alone on a rooftop somewhere, lit cigarette between his fingers. 

Neil missed him so much he ached. 

*

Kevin knew he was coming, so he assumed Andrew must’ve known. Neil hadn’t told him. He walked into the lobby of the apartment building with his bags slung over his shoulder, sudden nerves tying his stomach in knots. 

He’d flown to Colorado almost right after graduation. He’d been drafted to the team Kevin and Andrew played for, of course, and there wasn’t any other answer except yes. He hadn’t wanted to spend a last summer alone in Palmetto, so he got the earliest available flight he could find. 

Most of them had been at his ceremony. Matt, Dan (who had Nicky on FaceTime to watch), Kevin. Wymack and Abby, even Bee. The new Foxes, with their new appointed captain Robin. He would miss her, but she’d promised to keep in touch. Allison and Renee had sent their most heartfelt congratulations and their apologies that they couldn’t make it.

He’d asked Robin, before he left, if she ever spoke to Andrew. She’d given him a small, almost apologetic smile. 

“Sometimes, yeah,” she said. Neil just nodded. 

Neil didn’t realize Andrew had come to the ceremony too until afterwards. He saw him in the corner after he walked off the stage, college degree in hand, his days as a Fox officially over. He was sore about it. He’d miss this team. He’d never, ever forget what being a Fox had done for him, what it had meant. 

Neil spotted Andrew as the crowd dispersed and he was receiving back pats and bear hugs from his friends. He stood apart from the others. When he saw him, Neil looked at Kevin. Kevin sighed and shook his head. 

“He drove himself,” he explained. 

Neil walked over to him, taking off his graduation cap. Robin had convinced him to decorate it like so many graduating seniors did; she’d helped him paint the top orange, with a white fox paw and Neil’s number 10 in the middle. 

“Hi,” Neil said when he got close enough to touch Andrew. 

“Hi,” Andrew said. “Congratulations.” 

He said something else, but it was lost in the excitement of the crowd and their families. Neil leaned in, stopping just before they touched. “What?”

He could feel Andrew’s breath against his ear. “I’m proud of you,” he said quietly. 

Oh. Neil didn’t expect the rush of warmth and adrenaline and something else that flooded his body at the words, making goose bumps rise on his skin. 

“Thank you,” Neil whispered back, smiling. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”

Andrew shrugged. “Sorry I haven’t texted.” Since their night together over winter break, it had been months of near radio silence, barely a response from Andrew whenever Neil reached out. Neil tried not to take it personally. He knew how Andrew was. He told himself he’d expected as much and made his life busy with Exy and not much else. He’d always been good at that. 

But he still kept the jersey Andrew had left for him, and still wore the key to the Columbia house around his neck, engraved with that Russian thank you.

“It’s okay,” Neil said, shrugging it off. “How’ve you been?”

“Stable,” Andrew replied. The response threw Neil off a little, but he smiled. 

“Good,” he said. “That’s great, Andrew.” 

“Plans tonight?” Andrew asked after an amount of time that stretched just beyond the borders of awkwardness. 

“Matt wanted to go out,” Neil said. “To celebrate. Wanna come to Eden’s with us?”

Andrew nodded, and Neil smiled. 

*

Neil vividly remembered this, nights spent wasting away the hours here, dancing and letting himself live carefree. He remembered Andrew’s hands on him and the weight of his warm mouth in the darkness, his face illuminated by neon flashing lights. 

Roland was happy to see them again. Neil was glad Roland was a constant in his life - when the others all graduated and left him behind, Eden’s was unchanging, and its bartender was a rock Neil leaned on in his lonely hours. They’d sometimes made it a point to hang out outside of the club, and he’d even introduced her to Robin. Robin loved Roland, and Roland loved her. 

She was here now, joining in the celebration. She was elated to see Andrew again, and she had his attention, talking to him about the new Foxes, the classes she was taking next semester. She’d missed him, Neil could tell. Neil knew Andrew must have missed Robin, too. He still remembered the day he’d decided to take her in - when she moved into their dorm, which meant Neil and Andrew had started sharing a bed to make room for her in their bunk. As he glanced at them from across the table, he could’ve sworn he even saw the flicker of a smile on Andrew’s face. 

But that would’ve been ridiculous. 

Matt and Dan were knocking back shots next to Neil, trying to goad him into drinking more than he usually did. 

“You fucking graduated, Neil!” Matt shouted in his ear, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “You’re alive against all odds - we’re so proud of you for that, by the way - and you just graduated from Palmetto State University. That deserves a goddamn shot.” He held one out, and with a grin, Neil took it and drank it down. 

Matt was right. He was alive. He’d survived. He’d come to Palmetto State a nobody, a dangerous threat with a deadly past, and he’d managed to overcome it all and become someone who meant something to people. He’d captained his beloved team to countless victories. He’d made himself proud. He’d held onto his family, and he would for the rest of his life. 

Matt and Dan cheered when he did the shot, and then they handed him another. He drank that one too, feeling Andrew’s eyes on him. Kevin was here, but he’d stepped outside to take a call from his coach - the coach of the Colorado team Neil would soon be playing for. His contract had been written up even before his last year at Palmetto, according to Kevin. 

In a few days, he’d leave South Carolina behind. Five years of his life, five years of memories. Five more years than Neil had expected to live. 

Yes. He thought that deserved celebrating. 

By the time they left Eden’s that night, Neil was bold enough to ask if Andrew wanted to get away for an hour or two. He couldn’t place the look in Andrew’s eyes. 

Something was missing between them, something vital that had given every moment between them heat from the minute they first kissed. Maybe it had started to fade the closer Andrew got to graduation, and maybe Neil just hadn’t wanted to notice. Maybe it was inevitable. He didn’t know. 

He just wanted another night with him. 

*

This was reckless. Andrew knew he shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t indulge himself or Neil like this. But he was a weak man. He’d always been weak. 

It was different from the night they’d spent in Andrew’s hotel over winter break. This was desperate, rough. Neil hungered, and Andrew closed his eyes and let his instincts take over. Just to see if he still remembered how to do it. It had been a while. 

Neil kissed him hard, biting his lip, and Andrew tugged on his hair. Neil’s response to that made lightning crackle down Andrew’s spine, so he did it again, harder this time. This was animalistic; this was barely controlled. At the sight of that damned key hanging around Neil’s neck - still, after all this time - it almost broke something in Andrew, and he struggled to keep it together, to keep himself from going over the edge he clung to.

When it was over, Andrew wanted to tell Neil what he’d been keeping from him. But the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. That had always been the easiest solution. Neil would find out on his own soon enough; Andrew didn’t need to tell him. 

It was harder to say goodbye every time. 

Neil placed kisses on Andrew’s shoulders, and Andrew let him, his fingers running through Neil’s hair. 

“You okay?” Neil asked quietly, his finger tracing a pattern on Andrew’s bare chest. “That was different.”

“Did I hurt you?” Panic spiked through him, sudden and sharp.

“No, I liked it. It was good.” Andrew relaxed, trusting Neil enough to know he was telling the truth. “Just want to know if you’re doing alright.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay.” 

Neil looked like he would say something else, but he only nodded. “Okay.” He paused. “I have a flight to Colorado in a week.”

Andrew looked at the ceiling. “Kevin told me.”

“I want to see your place,” Neil said quietly, a question without a question mark. Kevin and Andrew lived close to each other, in apartments within a mile from each other in the same town where their team was based. They saw each other often. Kevin hung out with the team a lot; Andrew only sometimes joined, when Kevin was convincing enough. But Kevin didn’t try very hard. He and Andrew existed differently than they used to. They weren’t so much a symbiotic relationship anymore. They didn’t need to be. 

Andrew didn’t tell Neil about the phone call he’d had with Aaron two weeks ago. 

He just said, “Okay,” and turned his eyes away from the hopeful smile on Neil’s face. 

That fucking key nestled in the hollow of his throat.

*

Kevin knew he was coming, and he was there to greet Neil in the lobby of the apartment building where he’d gotten Neil a lease. Neil hadn’t met any of his new team members yet, but he’d spoken with Kevin and his new coaches over video chat, introducing himself and answering all the questions the coaches asked him about his and Kevin’s history, their playing, their time with the Foxes. They were excited to have Neil play for them, to have Josten and Day on the same court once more. 

Neil should’ve realized it when they didn’t mention Andrew. When they didn’t say Josten, Day, and Minyard. 

He’d only half-expected Andrew to be there to greet him too when he arrived in Colorado. He’d sent him a text which hadn’t gotten a response, so Neil tried not to get his hopes up, but he’d always failed at that. 

“Flight go okay?” Kevin asked him, shouldering one of Neil’s bags as he showed him up to his apartment. 

“Bumpy, but it was fine,” Neil said. “Uh, where’s Andrew? He didn’t say he’d be here, but I thought - ”

An unexpected look of pity crossed over Kevin’s face, and Neil’s stomach bottomed out a minute before he said, “Andrew didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what.” Neil couldn’t form it into a question. 

Kevin sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news. He wouldn’t look at Neil. “He’s been thinking of moving back home for a while. Since about six months into playing for this team with me. He and Aaron, you know, they’re working on their relationship, and Andrew wanted to put more effort in. He didn’t give me his reasons and I don’t pretend to know them. But he got himself traded to the Columbia team. Moved back two days ago.”

“Oh,” was all Neil could manage to say. 

There was a pause, and then Kevin said, “It’s why you were drafted. The team was full, even with backups. He told Coach Ashton to give you his spot.”

Neil felt a blankness that he didn’t know what to do with. He followed Kevin to his apartment. Kevin looked like he’d rather not be in this situation, but he kept speaking. “Look, you guys should talk. Like I said, I don’t know his reasons. I never got a response from him when I asked about how you guys were doing.”

“What about Court?” Neil asked, his dreams withering to pieces in his mind. For years, he’d held onto a vision of him, Andrew, and Kevin, Olympic gold medals around their necks. Andrew was always supposed to be a part of that, at least. If everything else changed, they were always supposed to be Court together.

“He’s still Court,” Kevin said tightly. “He spoke with the coaches before he left, though. I argued with him about it. A lot. He got himself switched from the main goalie to an alternate, so it’s not guaranteed the team will need him or he’ll see playing time. He’s supposed to train with us, but he told the coaches he didn’t know when he’d be back.”

“And they just let him do that?” Neil was shocked. Kevin gave him a look that said all he needed to know. Neil understood then that Kevin must have fought for Andrew to be allowed to keep his spot, and he must have hated every part of it. 

“I told him if he was going to abandon everything we’ve worked for, that was on him,” Kevin said, anger shadowing his face. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “But I knew that if he left, and they took away his spot, he’d never come back. And he also needs this time away, I think. He and Aaron need a real chance to see if they can fix things.”

They’d already had years to fix things, Neil thought.

But maybe not. Because Andrew had spent most of the rest of his time at Palmetto with Neil, and Aaron had had Katelyn.

“Okay,” Neil said. He felt numb. Kevin looked at him for a moment and then shook his head. 

“If it helps, I don’t think he left because of you. Don’t let it bother you. You know how Andrew is. Just focus on this team and Court. Talk to him when you have time. It’ll work itself out.”

He did. He knew how Andrew was. But the thing was, Neil thought he was changing. 

He supposed it was a very big sign that Andrew was changing that he wanted to go back to South Carolina to be closer to Aaron. Neil thought they had let each other go and given each other room to grow; his last year with Andrew at school had barely involved Aaron as he and his brother lived their separate lives. Apparently the space was good for them. Andrew wanting to be closer to Aaron meant that their relationship was mending, and Neil supposed he should be glad for that, for Andrew’s sake. Neil had known, no matter how much Andrew would deny it, that he had always wanted to fix things with Aaron. 

But Neil thought Andrew had chosen him. The end of his freshman year, Andrew had chosen him. 

That empty feeling of blankness stayed with Neil while he unpacked, put his things into the drawers of his new room. Tomorrow, he would go to his first practice with Kevin. He was taking Andrew’s spot on the team. Andrew had given it to him without telling him. 

Something like anger dared to rise in Neil’s chest, but he shoved it down. There was no use for it when there was no one here to direct it towards, and even if Andrew was here, he likely wouldn’t care. 

Neil took in a deep breath, and it stuttered and broke. 

But he was fine. Everything was going to be fine. 

Kevin took him out to dinner that night, to take his mind off it. But Neil texted Andrew before he went to sleep anyway. 

Hey. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving back to Columbia? 

He didn’t mean for it to sound clingy or desperate or anything like emotional, but his paranoia made him stare at his screen and reread the text over and over again after he sent it. He shook his head and set his phone aside, knowing Andrew probably wouldn’t respond until the next morning, if he even responded at all. 

He slept restlessly, and when he checked his phone in the morning, the response was brief and to the point. Neil didn’t know why he’d expected anything else from Andrew, even after all this time. 

Sorry. 

Neil closed his eyes. 

In the end, it was this: Okay. Take care of yourself, Andrew.

You too.

That was it. 

It would be years before they had a real conversation again.

*

The next time they saw each other, it was facing off on the court. 

Neil knew it was coming; he’d memorized the game schedule. Denver vs. Columbia, home game. He’d had several weeks to prepare himself, and yet when he saw Andrew’s face across the court for the first time in months, he felt his stomach drop. 

“Focus,” Kevin warned him. “I need you at your best, Neil.”

Neil glared at him, but he nodded. He turned his face away from Andrew, who wasn’t looking at him anyway. 

They’d barely exchanged more than a text since their last one, the night Neil moved in with Kevin. And it never came from Andrew’s end. Which made Neil feel . . . horrible. It was the only word he could think of. This was a different kind of ache than the physical pain he’d suffered before. 

But, he told himself over and over again, it was useless to feel that way. Because it didn’t matter.

When he thought about it, they’d never actually talked about what they were. About what their plans were after graduation, so it was fine. Neil had hinted at it, and he’d let himself think they would have a life together. That was his fault. No promises had actually been made. Neil shouldn’t have expected anything from Andrew, and he knew Andrew never expected anything from him. Had he wanted it? Well, Neil would never know, because he hadn’t said anything. And he didn’t think Andrew would’ve said anything anyway. As long as Neil had known him, Andrew had never been one to voice what he wanted. Neil didn’t think the words “I want” had ever come out of his mouth. 

Maybe Andrew had always intended to let it end, then. But Neil thought he would’ve at least given him the courtesy of letting him know that. 

He was angry, and upset, and sad, and he tried not to let it affect his playing that night, but it did, and Kevin could tell. They argued about it on the sidelines, but Neil couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. 

Every time he looked at Andrew in the goal on the other side of the court, it felt like Andrew was purposefully not looking at him. Neil tried to make himself stop looking, but he couldn’t. He tried to see if he could notice anything different about Andrew. He hadn’t changed physically, but maybe since leaving, since trying to fix things with his brother, he was in a better place. Neil couldn’t tell. He told himself that Andrew was happier, but he didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse. Of course he wanted Andrew to be happy. 

But Andrew had made him happy, and now, Neil didn’t have much besides Exy to keep him going.

Columbia won the game, and Kevin blamed their loss on Neil. Neil let his berating go in one ear and out the other. He just wanted to leave. He wanted to go home. 

But the apartment he shared with Kevin hadn’t started feeling like a home yet, truthfully. Neil didn’t know if it ever would. He’d only ever experienced the feeling of home in one place - Palmetto. The court there, the Foxes. 

Andrew.

They didn’t keep much alcohol in the apartment, since Kevin didn’t drink much anymore, but when they got home that night, Neil took what they did have and sat on the couch to drink it until it was all gone. 

The next morning, after Neil woke up blearily on the couch, Kevin sat next to him and sighed. Neil expected a lecture of some kind, but what Kevin actually said surprised him into silence. 

“Look,” Kevin started, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked at Neil, and there was sympathy in his eyes. “I know it’s been hard for you. Honestly, it’s a little difficult for me too, but I guess I’ve had more time to adjust to it. Andrew was by my side for my entire time at Palmetto. We never said it, but he was really my best friend. I still think of him like that. So it was hard, after I graduated, to not have him there with me, until he came to play here.” He paused and then shook his head. “I know what you guys had was something different. Even if you never put words to it, you meant something to each other. I don’t know why neither of you spoke about it if it was that important, but I’m not in a place to judge you for it. I know it sucks, Neil. But it’s over now. It’s in the past. Maybe it’s better this way. You should both focus on your own lives and see what you can be without each other.” Kevin got up from the couch and shrugged. “I know that when I left Palmetto, I learned that Andrew was the one who taught me how to stand on my own. And I was able to do it without him once I realized that. I’m not saying you should join a dating app and start hooking up, but if I’m guessing correctly, Andrew was your first anything. So maybe you should get out there and see if you can find what you had with him with someone else.”

It was an unexpected speech, and Neil didn’t know what to say. Kevin waited, cleaning up the bottles Neil had left on the table the night before. 

Finally, Neil said, “I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know how.” He knew that he was capable of it, deep down. He’d made it through his senior year without Andrew, mostly, but then he’d had Robin. He hadn’t spoken to her in a while; Neil knew he should call her to catch up. He wondered if she and Andrew still spoke. 

Kevin shrugged again. “You’ll figure it out. I’m here to help, if you want it. Just don’t let it affect your playing again. You’re better than that.”

And there it was. Neil rolled his eyes, but oddly, he felt . . . less weighed down by the feelings that had been haunting him for weeks. He felt okay, or like he could be okay, if he let himself. What Kevin said made sense. And coming from Kevin, it felt significant. 

He took a deep breath. He nodded. 

And he began the slow but steady process of finally moving on, once and for all.

Several nights later, he took off the engraved key he still wore around his neck and put it in a little box. He put the box away in his closet and didn’t think of it again.

*

“Neil! Hi! God, it’s so good to hear from you.”

Neil smiled as he walked along the road, one hand in his pocket. “Yeah. It’s good to hear from you too, Robin. Sorry I haven’t called.”

“It’s okay,” Robin said, sounding sincere. “I bet your life is much busier now, playing on a professional schedule. How’s Colorado? And Kevin?”

“Both good,” Neil said. “I like the team. They seem to like me.”

“That’s great, Neil. I’m really glad.”

“How’s Palmetto? How are the Foxes?”

“Ugh. I love them, but Jack and Sheena keep driving me up the fucking wall and I’m almost at my limit.”

“Do I need to come back there and kick everyone’s asses into line?”

Robin laughed. “I’d love to see you, Neil. Anytime. I miss you.”

He missed her, too. He’d been surprised when Robin Cross arrived on campus the year before Andrew’s graduation, and Andrew had instantly seemed to take a shine to her. But Neil had welcomed her into their private circle of protection with open arms, and he’d forged a friendship with her that he knew would last as long as his bonds with the other Foxes had. 

“Dan still whipping you guys into shape?” Neil asked, though he knew the answer. 

“Of course,” Robin said. “She doesn’t go easy on us. She mentions you a lot.”

Neil groaned. “I told her not to do that.” Once Dan had started in an assistant coaching position at Palmetto, she’d promised Neil that she’d use him as an example constantly for the rest of the team. Whether those examples would be good or bad, she hadn’t said. 

Robin laughed, and Neil smiled. He’d missed the sound of her laugh. He’d missed her. Without Andrew during his senior year, Robin had been his only comfort and solace. 

“Come visit,” she said.

“I will,” he promised. “In the off-season.” 

Nicky called Neil regularly from Germany, where he’d moved to live with Erik. Neil never asked, but Nicky gave him updates on Andrew sometimes, and apparently, Andrew and Aaron often went to Europe to visit their cousin when Andrew was free in the off-season. So if Neil was going back to South Carolina, he wanted to do it with minimal risk of running into Andrew. 

Not that he wouldn’t know what to say if he saw him again. He was capable of saying a simple hi, a how are you, a good to see you. But he didn’t know if he could say anything beyond that. 

They hadn’t texted. Hadn’t spoken. Neil was still part of the group text thread the Foxes had formed and somehow managed to keep up all through the years, and he knew Andrew’s number was still in it, too, but Andrew had always rarely participated. Now he never did. He must have been seeing the messages, though. 

“Sure,” Robin said easily, not missing a beat. Neil paused, but then stopped himself from asking if Robin still spoke to Andrew. He knew she probably did; Andrew had been important to her, and they’d shared a special bond. Neil would never begrudge either of them that. 

“You could come here, too,” Neil offered, smiling at the idea of being able to show Robin around Denver. “I could fly you out whenever you have time.”

“I’d love that,” Robin said. “Winter break in Colorado actually isn’t a bad idea. We could hit the slopes. I’ve always wanted to try snowboarding.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Neil said. 

“Let’s make it happen. You’re still watching my games, though, right?” she asked. 

“Whenever I can.” He and Kevin watched live streams of the Palmetto State games, and had a copy of the Foxes’ schedule stuck to their fridge in the shape of a magnetic orange fox paw. Dan had sent it to them. “You’re a spitfire on that court.”

“Aww. Thanks, Neil.” She sighed. “It’s not the same without you and Drew. But I’m trying to make friends outside of the team, like you said.”

Robin had been the first person to shorten Andrew’s name to a nickname like that, and during their last year together, Neil had started calling him that occasionally too. Especially when he saw the effect it had on Andrew in bed. Neil’s chest pinched at the sound of it. 

“Good,” he told her. “Keep trying. I never needed anyone besides the Foxes, but I know the current crop of players is different. I want the rest of your time at Palmetto to be fun for you.” He didn’t want to worry about her there alone. He knew Dan was there keeping an eye on her, and so were Coach Wymack and Abby and Bee, but Neil had always been slightly protective of Robin. 

“Okay, Dad,” Robin said, but her tone was fond. Neil smiled. 

When they hung up an hour later, Neil was in a much better mood than he’d been in before. And his conversation with Robin had helped him come to a decision that he’d been considering for a while. 

He was going to get his own place. 

Living with Kevin was fine - he didn’t mind it, and they made good roommates. But it had been two years now, and Neil felt like it was just time for him to move out. 

Two years had gone by faster than he thought. His years at Palmetto had always seemed to stretch out, the days and nights and countless happy memories like fossils preserved in amber, but without Andrew, without the Foxes constantly surrounding him, time had started to speed up with a rapidity that was sort of alarming to Neil. The months and days of the last two years all blended together with nothing to distinguish them from one another. He’d formed a steady daily routine - he went on a run with Kevin almost every morning, he went to practice, he went to games. Kevin had suggested Neil find a hobby outside of Exy, and he’d started attempting to get into photography - he’d always liked the picture wall they kept at the court back at Palmetto, full of captured memories of the Foxes, and when he and Andrew texted more regularly during Neil’s lonely senior year, they used to send random pictures back and forth to each other. 

The thought of that made him a little sad and nostalgic now, so he kept it at bay. But he did like the idea of photography. 

He’d tried taking Kevin’s other advice - the suggestion that Neil should go out and try to find what he’d had with Andrew with . . . someone else. In the two years since Kevin had given him that advice, Neil had only attempted it twice. It just hadn’t worked out either time. He’d tried, he really did, but it just . . . didn’t feel right. He kept subconsciously comparing them to Andrew, how he’d felt when he was with Andrew, and the guilt had made him end things with both of the people he’d tried to form connections with.

And once, during a bad night when they’d both fallen off the wagon and needed comfort (they were rare, but they happened), Neil and Kevin had almost made a mistake that both of them would have sorely regretted. It hadn’t gone farther than kissing, albeit desperate kissing that would’ve led to much more if Kevin hadn’t had the sense to stop it. Neil didn’t know if he would’ve stopped. He’d just wanted to be touched again. He’d wanted to be held the way Andrew used to hold him. He’d wanted that closeness with another person, and as much as Andrew had always given him that, Kevin was almost on the same level. Kevin was permanently entwined in his sense of home and safety and family. So he thought, why not? He loved Kevin, and Kevin loved him - they never said it, but they both knew it. Neil had grown and learned enough to admit that now. And maybe it wasn’t in the way Neil and Andrew had been together, but it was enough. It could’ve been enough, if either of them let it be. 

But Kevin stopped it, said, “No, Neil. No. We can’t. We - we shouldn’t.” 

Neil could’ve pushed him. He could see it in Kevin’s eyes. They’d both wanted it for different reasons, but the point was that they both wanted it. And shouldn’t was different than can’t. Neil knew that he could’ve pushed Kevin farther, and Kevin wouldn’t have stopped him. 

But he’d hung his head and said, “Yeah. Okay.” And then, when they’d pulled away from each other and vowed to forget about it, Neil said, ashamed, “I don’t know if you still talk to Andrew that much, but don’t tell him, okay?”

Kevin had shook his head sadly. “I won’t.”

That night, feeling masochistic, Neil had recklessly typed out the words, Kevin and I kissed on his phone in a message to Andrew. His thumb hovered over the screen for a minute before he’d deleted the words and shoved his phone away, disgusted with himself for reasons he couldn’t entirely name, angry and hurt and sad. 

He’d been doing a good job of moving on before that night. He’d hated that he’d slipped up, and in such a horrible way. In the morning, he and Kevin had gone on their run as usual. They never spoke about it again. Kevin (who’d ended his relationship with Thea Muldani during Neil’s first year living with him) started seeing a woman for a brief time, a nice sports journalist who seemed to genuinely like him for himself and not just because he was Kevin Day, but they’d ended things after a while. Neil knew Kevin had a dating app on his phone and occasionally went out to hook up with someone when he wanted to find release somewhere other than the court, but nothing serious ever came of it, and Kevin was fine with that. For now, at least. Neil didn’t know if that would change in the future. Things with Thea hadn’t worked out because of their shared history with the Ravens, but Neil thought Kevin had always been the settling down type. After he retired from Exy, of course.

So the last two years had been quiet for Neil. Uneventful, besides the near-fatal mistake with Kevin. That incident was what had started to make him think about moving out.

He didn’t know what it meant for him that his attempts at ‘dating’ other people (a term he used very loosely) had failed - whether he would spend the rest of his life alone, or he’d just never find exactly the same thing he’d had with Andrew again, but he didn’t like to dwell on it much. 

He felt like a place of his own was something he needed. It was the next step in the long, long process he sometimes forgot he was still going through. And if he had one, he could host Robin, make sure she had a nice place to sleep when she came to visit. 

That settled it, then. Later that night, he asked Kevin for help researching the real estate market. 

*

It was easier than he would’ve thought to get his own place, and by the end of the month, Neil was settled in a spacious rental five blocks from Kevin’s apartment. 

He kept up with his routine. He went on runs. He went to practice. He went to games. 

He and Kevin played for Court, but Andrew was never there. Neil knew their teammates were curious about it, but no one ever said anything. Rumors swirled in the press that a falling out had occurred between Andrew and Neil, or Andrew and Kevin, and they said Andrew refused to play with either of them. That he wouldn’t put on a Court uniform as long as either of them did. Kevin spoke to the reporters and tried to quash the rumors, but Neil’s silence on the matter still fueled their speculation. Of course, no one could get in touch with Andrew to say his piece. 

That was the only sharp sting in Neil’s life, the unpleasant memory of goodbye and things left unsaid. 

There were no texts. No calls. 

Neil spent that winter break with Robin, and he was happy to see her. She made him laugh. They spent the holidays alone together; Kevin had gone back to Palmetto to spend time with his father. Neil didn’t ask if he would be seeing Andrew. It didn’t matter. It was Kevin’s business if he did. 

“You should get a pet or something,” Robin said as Neil drove her to the airport on the day of her departure, after the holidays were over. “I know you have Kevin, but I hate thinking of you all alone out here. Your apartment’s too big for just you.”

“I don’t know if I’d do well with a pet,” Neil said, but he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. He’d never had one before, so he’d never considered what it would be like to have one.

“Get a cat. A cat’s easy. There are always so many in shelters that need homes.”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. If you decide to adopt, text me pictures of each and every one so I can help you choose,” Robin said with a smile. Neil laughed. 

“You got it,” he said. 

They parted with a long hug at the airport. Robin squeezed him tight and said she loved him. She’d always be there for him. Neil felt himself almost overwhelmed with a sudden bout of emotion, and he took a deep breath to will it away. 

Robin’s suggestion stayed with him all the way home from the airport. He’d never felt particularly lonely after he moved into his place, but after Robin left, he suddenly found he was. A part of him thought he’d always been lonely in Colorado, even with Kevin there to buffer him.

It didn’t have to be that way, though.

He was jogging down the main street of businesses in his neighborhood several weeks later when he passed a window with a bunch of tiny kittens jumping and pawing at the glass.

He only meant to take one, but he ended up with two, a bonded pair who couldn’t be separated, according to the shopkeeper. One had a squishy face that looked mashed in, puffy cheeks and big round eyes. The other was gray and so fluffy Neil thought it looked like a cotton ball that had collected too much dust.

When he took them both home, he sent a picture to the Fox group chat, with no context. He smiled to see the responses from his friends. 

You didn’t tell me you were getting cats, Kevin said. When? Why?

Kitties!!! Dan replied, with a string of cat emojis. 

I absolutely love them, Nicky said. 

Whose idea was this? Allison asked, and Neil chuckled to himself. 

Robin’s, he said. I need names for them.

Name one Striker, Kevin suggested. Neil immediately liked the name, but it was quickly shot down by the others.

You are stupid and unoriginal, Allison said.

Seriously, Kev. Come on, Matt chimed in with a disappointed face emoji. 

They’re adorable, Neil! Renee added, followed with a short, I’m sorry, I can’t talk very much right now, but I can’t wait to hear what names you choose!

There was nothing from Aaron, but there was rarely ever anything from Aaron, unless he was mentioned and unwillingly dragged into the conversation by Matt or Dan or Nicky.

There was nothing from Andrew. 

Neil checked, sometimes, to see if either of the twins had removed themselves from the group chat. But they hadn’t. Their names and numbers were still there. They’d just been silent for months. 

In the end, it was Nicky who won the honor of naming both the cats.

The gray one shall be named King Fluffkins, Nicky decided. And the one with the squishy face will be Sir Fat Cat McCatterson. There. You’re welcome, Neil.

Neil just blinked at his screen for a second before he shook his head as the other Foxes started to respond with enthusiastic agreements. Kevin was the only one who protested. 

So that was how he found himself with two cats with the most ridiculous names on earth. 

But he loved them. 

He took to calling them shortened versions of their names - King and Sir were easier, less of a mouthful - but one day, he started referring to them with cutesy nicknames, and then he found he couldn’t stop. Apparently, he was a cat person. Who knew?

*

After a while, Neil found that he was as content as he could be with his life. He was doing what he wanted to do - playing Exy. He had money. Kevin was his best friend. He got along well with his teammates, on the Colorado team and on Court. Sometimes he even went out with them, when Kevin encouraged it. The Moriyamas were a lingering shadow behind his back, but he never had to worry about them as long as he kept playing his best, and he always did.

The other Foxes and Robin all made consistent efforts to keep in touch. They spoke as much as they could. 

The twins didn’t participate in the group chat, but they talked to Nicky regularly. Neil knew that because Nicky always called him privately to give him updates, even though Neil never asked. 

Neil thought about asking Nicky to stop, at one point, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It was the only mention of Andrew he ever got now. The only confirmation that he was still alive and doing well. He’d let go of him, moved on, but Neil still needed that. Just to know. After everything they’d been through, he just needed to know that Andrew was doing okay on his own.

According to their cousin, Aaron was doing well in med school. He and Katelyn were building a life together, and they were happy. Andrew traveled and played Exy and didn’t do much else. On Nicky’s calls to Neil, he always told Neil that he didn’t know anything about Andrew’s love life. Again, Neil never asked. Nicky always volunteered the information with a hopeful note in his voice that refused to waver, and it always made Neil want to hang up the phone, his chest tight by the end of the call.

But he never did.

*

Andrew had tried to live his life since he left Palmetto by holding onto the things worth living for: his brother and Nicky, mostly. But Bee had told him he needed more than that. So he tried to find other things to occupy his time, to keep him going, keep him distracted. So he wouldn’t think about what he’d run from. Who he’d left behind.

Upon his move back to South Carolina, he’d gotten in touch with Roland again, and they’d started up their old routine easily, like they’d never lost it. It had lasted for a few months before Roland told Andrew that they needed to stop. 

Andrew hadn’t wanted to, at first. He’d been resistant. He needed this to keep him grounded, to keep the thoughts in his head from eating him alive. But Roland had been gentle with him, smiled and told him it was for the best. Feeling cold, Andrew had agreed. If Roland didn’t want him anymore, he wouldn’t force it.

After that, Roland started going out on dates with people he was interested in, and Andrew found himself going out too, looking for people who would respect his boundaries the way Roland had.

The way only one other person had, besides Roland.

It was rare that another man caught his eye. But it happened, occasionally. He was human, after all, and over the years he’d learned to be more comfortable with that. All the men that managed to keep his interest for more than an hour reminded him of someone he didn’t want to name, though. He used the hours spent with them to clear his head, and then he left them. Their touch didn’t feel right. They didn’t make the right noises. There was always something wrong, something missing.

But it was all Andrew had, and maybe all he deserved. If he was too cowardly to put words to his feelings, if he hadn’t had the strength to say what he really wanted, if he’d let everything slip through his fingers like so much sand, this was what he deserved. Backroom encounters with nameless people he’d do his best to forget in the morning.

It wasn’t enough. Exy wasn’t enough. It never had been, not on its own, not for him. And Kevin was far away now. They still talked, every now and then, but their conversations were different now, somehow. They were both changed people, Andrew supposed. And that was alright. 

So he tried, harder than he ever had, to forge something with Aaron. Though he was long out of college, he kept up sessions with Bee in an unofficial capacity - they met for coffee once a week, when she was off the clock. It was the only thing that kept Andrew floating, but he didn’t tell her that.

She would mention Neil, occasionally, very cautiously. Andrew’s responses were always brief and terse. 

It had been years since he’d seen him in person. A long time since they’d actually talked. Andrew told himself he didn’t care, that it was for the best, but then, in a weak moment he hated himself for, he downloaded every social media app he could think of, created fake accounts, and used them to keep track of Neil that way. Just to see how he was doing. To assure himself that Andrew’s choices had been the right ones, that Neil was good, he was fine, he was happy without him.

He saw Neil on TV more than once, and since Andrew still played Exy, Josten’s name was always in someone’s mouth. Neil had never quite disappeared from his life entirely, and Andrew hated the relief he felt at that. Having him on the periphery was okay - he could deal with that. He could. Just to reassure himself that Neil hadn’t gotten himself killed, like Andrew had always thought he would.

But sometimes, when he was trying to sleep and failing to close his eyes, he wondered what would’ve happened if they’d actually given a name to what they were in college. He wondered what would’ve happened if they’d actually said what they meant to each other. 

But they didn’t, he didn’t, and it was in the past, and there was no use thinking about it. 

So he clung to his brother, he clung to Nicky, he spoke to Robin Cross and checked in with her regularly to make sure she was doing okay, he played for the Columbia team, and he let the days blend into weeks blend into months, until time was meaningless.

And he thought that would be the rest of his miserable existence.

*

If Andrew really paid attention to it, he knew that it had been almost six years since he’d left Palmetto. Time had passed in a monotonous blur for him, nothing to separate one of those years from another. 

He was fine. He was doing well, all things considered. He and Aaron were in a better place than Andrew ever thought they could be, and that was . . . it was something to be grateful for. Something to hold onto. 

He was sitting in a bar in Columbia - not Sweetie’s, not Eden’s; those were places he’d left behind long ago, letting them fall into the past like so much else from his college days - and there was a man on the stool next to him. The man had been trying to chat him up for fifteen minutes, and Andrew had been keeping him interested with occasional glances and looks. The man’s confidence never petered out, and he kept talking. He never touched Andrew, though his hand got close. He seemed to sense, though, that it wouldn’t be welcomed. So he’d kept the distance of their stools between them. It was the thing that made Andrew willing to sit there and keep listening to him. 

He thought he might actually take the man home. It had been awhile since he’d fucked anyone, and he wanted the release. He needed it. 

The door to the bar opened, and a large crowd of people swept in, loud and jostling each other as they laughed. They were dressed casually, but they had the air of a close-knit group, a team. Andrew’s eyes flickered over to them quickly before he looked away in disinterest. But when he turned back to the man who was smiling at him, his eyes caught on a flash of auburn. 

He froze.

He didn’t know Neil’s team was playing in South Carolina this week. Andrew had no idea. He might’ve heard some of his teammates talking about it, but he’d dismissed the information as irrelevant. Kevin might have texted the Fox group chat to say their team was going to be playing there, but Andrew never checked that anymore. And Neil hadn’t reached out to him privately in over three years. They hadn’t spoken to each other individually in at least that long, both busy with their lives and getting too old to keep doing whatever they’d been doing with each other, holding onto something that was never going to happen.

Andrew knew that’s what it must’ve been for both of them all these years - at least, that’s what it was for him - latching onto the idea of what they could’ve been, even though neither of them had ever said it, so they’d started to let it fizzle out for good. There was just no point to it anymore.

Andrew had resigned himself to the idea of a solitary life, meaningless hookups with faceless men until he died. He didn’t see himself settling down with anyone long-term. Maybe Roland, once upon a time, but that was over now. Maybe, in the wildest scenarios his brain came up with, he would have Kevin. But that would never happen. They were better off as friends.

But the fact that he could hook up with as many people as he had at all was due to Neil, in the way they’d helped each other grow while they were together. He could admit that, at least. Without Neil, Andrew probably wouldn’t have let anyone touch him ever again. And yet they let each other go. 

No, Andrew corrected himself. He let Neil go. 

Andrew turned his head, thinking he was hallucinating - it wouldn’t be the first time, seeing Neil somewhere he wasn’t - but no, that was really him, standing a little behind his team in the doorway to the bar. Kevin wasn’t with them. Odd. Neil’s hands were in his pockets, and he looked . . . good. Really good. Older. Rougher. A little more muscle on him. His scars were still the same. His hair was longer, pushed back by that ever-present bandana he’d worn so often in college. This had to be a new one, though, because the old one would’ve been worn out. This one was still orange, a lingering remnant of Neil’s loyalty to the Foxes. It did something strange to Andrew’s chest to see it. 

Neil didn’t see Andrew at first, and Andrew thought he should leave, get out before he noticed, save them both the awkward situation, save them both the potential painful conversation they might have. 

“Who’s that?” Andrew’s admirer asked, seeing his attention caught firmly on Neil Josten. Part of the reason why Andrew had kept sitting here letting the man talk to him was that he wasn’t into sports, didn’t seem to care about Exy, didn’t recognize Andrew’s face. Apparently he didn’t recognize Neil, either.

“That,” Andrew said, just to see how the man would react, “is my ex.”

And that was the moment Neil turned his head and saw him.

They weren’t really exes - they couldn’t be if they never had a defined relationship - but Andrew wanted to say the word, for some reason. He wanted to see how the guy at the bar would react to it. The guy’s eyes widened, and he looked back at Neil before he turned to Andrew. 

“Oh, shit.” Andrew saw the guy smile out of the corner of his eye, but he was only focused on Neil. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. He was pathetic. “I don’t know whether I should leave or stay.”

Andrew shrugged carelessly as Neil started to walk over to them, eyes fixed on Andrew, moving towards them like he couldn’t help it, like he was caught in a riptide. The guy - whose name was John, Andrew suddenly remembered - decided to stay. In fact, he leaned a little closer to Andrew as Neil approached. He still didn’t touch him, and Andrew thought John was smart. Maybe it would have actually gone somewhere if Neil hadn’t shown up. 

“Andrew,” Neil said when he got close enough. His eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe this was real. “Wow. Hi. I, uh - ” He stopped and cleared his throat, shaking his head. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then glanced at John. John waved, and Neil composed himself. He looked back at Andrew with a small smile. “It’s good to see you. I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

“I do live in this town,” Andrew said, refusing to look away from Neil’s face. Neil almost winced.

“Right,” he said. “Sorry, I - I guess I should’ve called, told you we were playing here. How’s - how are you?”

It was awkward, so awkward. It was obvious that Neil didn’t know what to do, how to act. Andrew was a tornado of emotions inside, and he couldn’t pick just one to focus on.

“I’m fine,” Andrew said almost mockingly. 

Neil blinked, but then he smiled. “Yeah, me too.” He finally looked at John and shook himself out of the stupor he seemed to be in. “God, hi, I’m sorry if I interrupted - were you two . . .?” He let it trail off into a question, and Andrew didn’t bother to answer. He finished his beer and stood up, needing to leave, needing to get out of here all of a sudden. John grinned and shook Neil’s hand.

“No, we just met tonight. I’ve been trying to get him to talk to me for twenty minutes, but it doesn’t look like it’s working. Shame.” John did look rueful as Andrew put cash down on the bar and moved to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

Andrew shrugged and didn’t say anything. 

Neil was fidgeting, restless, everything in him telling him not to let Andrew go. He hadn’t seen him in years. Hadn’t spoken to him in years. Kevin had stopped mentioning him. Robin had stopped mentioning him. Even Nicky had stopped bringing him up in conversation. He had faded away, dropped to the very back of Neil’s mind. This was . . . it was almost too much, here, now. 

“Andrew, wait - ” Neil reached out and grabbed Andrew’s arm. He was probably the only person in the world who could get away with doing it, aside from Robin, because Andrew stopped and turned to him, an eyebrow raised. Neil’s stare on him was intense. Andrew didn’t know how it made him feel. “We’re here until Sunday. Would you - will you get drinks with me? Tomorrow night? I would really love to catch up.” He squeezed Andrew’s arm once before he let go, giving him the choice.

Andrew almost said no. But he wasn’t strong enough for that.

When he nodded, Neil looked relieved. He smiled. “Great, that’s - that’s great, thank you. I still have your number. I’ll text you.”

Andrew mumbled, “See you,” and turned, pushing his way through the crowd until he left through the back of the bar, out into the alley, where he leaned against the brick wall and fumbled for a cigarette, his hands shaking so badly he almost dropped it.

He breathed the smoke in deep, desperately, his mind reeling and his body buzzing. God. What was this going to do to him?

If anything happened with Neil, he wouldn’t be able to come back from it. He’d managed to fool himself into thinking he’d been doing okay these last years, but that was obviously a lie. It had all come crumbling down the moment he’d seen Neil in front of him again. 

Why couldn’t they have just talked to each other when they were in college?

God, they were both so stupid. Neil was always an idiot, but Andrew always prided himself on not being one. He lied to himself, it seemed. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the brick wall, and when he was finished with his cigarette, he walked home, starting the long twenty-four hours it would take to prepare himself to see Neil again.

*

At the bar, Neil couldn’t focus for the rest of the night. His team laughed around him, minus Kevin, who wasn’t feeling well and had decided to stay back at their hotel for the night. Neil couldn’t think. He didn’t even consider that he might run into Andrew while their team was here. When Coach said South Carolina, it was just a blip in Neil’s brain, a place full of memories, a coincidence. He knew the twins still lived there, Matt and Dan, Wymack and Abby, and he thought it’d be nice to see the latter two and Matt and Dan, catch up with them if he had time. He hadn’t given the twins much thought. 

But the moment he’d seen Andrew sitting at the bar, all that went immediately out the window. Neil hadn’t expected how it would feel to see him again after six years, like an Exy racket to the gut - the one Andrew had hit him with the first time they met, knocking the wind out of him. 

Neil spent the rest of the night drinking enough to get buzzed and to take his mind off the complicated emotions he was feeling. 

Andrew spent the night at home, drinking and smoking until he passed out. At least it was safe when he was alone in his apartment.

Andrew woke up just past noon the next day. He was groggy and tired, head pounding. 

Neil woke up at the crack of dawn to get ready for the game he had to play. He told Kevin, “I ran into Andrew last night.”Kevin paused from getting his uniform on, watching him carefully. “And?”

Neil took a deep breath. “And we’re meeting for drinks tonight.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say. He knew as well as the rest of the Foxes that whatever Andrew and Neil had in college was far more than whatever they admitted it was, and he knew that they both hadn’t been able to let it go for over half a decade. During the year after Andrew graduated when he and Kevin played together, Kevin never brought it up, but he watched Andrew silently and saw how he changed. After Andrew left back to South Carolina and Neil joined Kevin in his place, Kevin had to watch Neil change, too. 

As much as he was Neil’s best friend, he was still Andrew’s friend, too, even if their friendship was different now. He’d kept in touch with Minyard as much as he could. He’d seen both of them hook up with other people, and he’d seen them let their minimal contact after college fade into nothing. He thought, in the back of his head, that it was too bad. It was sad. They should’ve talked. They should’ve done more. 

But it wasn’t on Kevin to fix it. It was on the two of them. He could try to push them, but they had to get there on their own. 

So Kevin said, “How do you feel about it?”

Neil shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel.”

And Kevin, typical Kevin, said, “Well, don’t let it take your focus away from the game. Win first, then worry about your problems.” 

Neil rolled his eyes, but he knew Kevin was right. So he shoved Andrew out of his head. As much as he could, anyway. It was easier now, since he’d had so much practice.

Of course their team won the game, and even before the last buzzer sounded, Neil was already thinking about Andrew again. About what would happen tonight. He was nervous. Anxious. It had been years. There were things they should probably talk about. Things that needed to be addressed, once and for all, now that they couldn’t avoid each other anymore. He had no idea how it would go.

He wished Robin were here, too, but she was out of state - she’d moved to California, of all places, and upon graduation from Palmetto last year, she’d accepted a spot on the same professional team Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau played for. Neil was proud of her. He missed her, but Jeremy promised to keep an eye on her, and it was enough to assuage Neil’s worries about Robin being on her own.

He thought about calling her, though, to see what she would say. He knew that Robin had always wanted for things to work out between him and Andrew, though she’d never pushed either of them. She’d wanted the best for them, and for them both to be happy. 

But it had been so long. Neil wondered if it was too late for that now.

*

When Andrew woke up past noon, he took two hours to get himself cleaned up and recovered from the night before. He went down the street to his favorite corner cafe - the one where he met Bee every week - and ordered a carb-loaded breakfast and a coffee and determinedly did not think about Neil. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, when Neil was standing in front of him again. In the meantime, he wouldn’t sit around and wait for Neil’s text. It would come whenever Neil’s game was finished. Andrew had other things to worry about. 

Not really, but he pretended he did.

*

When Neil’s game was over and he was showered and cleaned, he texted Andrew. Pour House? 9 pm. He was going to suggest Eden’s as a place to meet, but he thought that was too familiar, too close to home, too wild for just drinks. He remembered nights spent hooking up in the back rooms of the club, leaving with hickeys all over his neck and Andrew holding on tight to his hand, a few of his own hickeys hidden in other places. The Pour House was neutral territory, a popular bar in Columbia.

Andrew replied five minutes later and just said, Ok. 

Neil didn’t know what to do with that, but he was overthinking it. He knew Andrew had never been that communicative over text. It was fine. He shouldn’t read into it. 

But he was nervous. He wanted this to go well. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he wanted . . . he wanted things he didn’t know if he was going to get, and he had to be prepared for that. For the eventuality that too much had been broken between them to fix.

He thought he was strong enough to be okay with that, but he just needed this night first. He needed to say what he should’ve said so long ago.

*

Andrew knew what he wanted now. But even after all this time, he was still too afraid to say it. 

He spent too much time in front of the mirror before he left for the bar. He knew it was stupid. He didn’t have to make an impression. Neil knew him. But Andrew felt like this was . . . different.

Neil put on cologne, put on a nice shirt, left his hair curling around his ears. He knew Andrew never cared about how he looked, and Neil was just making excuses to stall. Finally he left the hotel, Kevin watching him go. He turned at the door and said, “I’ll probably be back later. I’ll text you.” He assumed he’d be back later, anyway. He didn’t really know, and that’s what was making him nervous most of all. There were so many ways this night could go. 

Kevin nodded and said, “Flight leaves at eight a.m tomorrow. Don’t miss it.” Neil nodded back and shut the hotel room door. 

He didn’t see Andrew when he got to the bar, so he grabbed a small table for two and ordered a drink and a basket of chips. He tapped his foot on the ground and had to hold himself back from checking the time until Andrew arrived. 

He came up to Neil from behind, and for a minute before he approached, Andrew just stood there, taking in Neil’s figure from the back. He took a deep breath, steeled himself for what was about to happen. 

Six years. It had been six years since they’d seen each other in the flesh. Less than that since they’d spoken, but still a long time. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He hadn’t called his brother or Robin or Nicky or Bee for advice, knowing they wouldn’t react in a way that was helpful to him. Nicky would be too excited, Aaron wouldn’t care enough - maybe he’d be slightly annoyed that Neil had waltzed back into his brother’s life - and Robin would be . . . surprised, maybe. But she might take it in stride. Still, Andrew hadn’t told anyone about this. He wondered if Neil had told Kevin.

Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat and came up behind Neil silently. Neil was caught off guard when Andrew rounded the table and sat down in the chair in front of him.

He had to catch his breath, and he tried to smile. “Hey. I’m really - I’m glad you made it. Hi.” He was fumbling, struggling to find words, and Andrew didn’t blame him. If he were capable of talking right now, he’d be the same. 

For an awkward moment, they just stared at each other, drinking each other in, the changes in each other’s faces. They were both older, a little rougher around the edges. But Neil still thought Andrew was beautiful. He still felt like he could breathe a little easier with him this close. 

And Andrew still thought Neil was frustratingly gorgeous. He felt alive again for the first time in years, like his heart was newly started in his chest, beating stronger. That was probably a sign. 

“Thank you,” Neil said softly, and God, didn’t that bring up memories, sharp and quick. 

Andrew glanced once to his neck - there was no key there, the key engraved with the Russian word he’d given Neil so long ago. But of course there wouldn’t be. He probably hadn’t kept it. Andrew didn’t know why he would’ve. “For meeting me tonight,” Neil continued, cheeks flushing. “I thought - I thought you might change your mind.”

Andrew shrugged, finally tearing his eyes from Neil’s bare neck to look at the drink menu. “Figured it’d be interesting.”

Neil chuckled. “Interesting. Right.”

They didn’t speak until the waitress came and went to take Andrew’s drink order. When she was gone, Neil’s shoulders seemed to relax a little, and he nodded to himself, a determined look on his face. “How are you, Andrew? Tell me what I’ve missed since . . . since we last talked.”

Andrew shrugged, looking around the bar in the bored expression that had never changed since Neil first saw it in college. It was almost comforting to see. “Nothing. I play Exy and I take road trips when I’m not playing. I don’t do much else.”

“I had heard that from Nicky, but really?” Neil asked. “No hobbies, nothing?”

Stalking you on all those stupid social media accounts, Andrew thought but didn’t say.

Neil would never know it was him by the accounts he’d created for each app, but Andrew had an Instagram and a Twitter, the easiest ways to keep up with the daily life of Neil Josten. He was wildly famous in the Exy world, and he had a fan following numbering in the hundred thousands, maybe even the millions. Andrew saw the pictures Neil posted on Instagram - pictures of himself, pictures of him and Kevin, their team, Neil’s cats, rare pictures of when he was still a Fox. Andrew even once saw himself in a few of those pictures, old snapshots of their college days, and he’d stared at them for a long time, feeling like he was drowning.

Neil was still waiting for an answer, so Andrew said, “I read a lot. Write sometimes.”

Neil’s eyes widened, and he smiled softly, a pleasant surprise at hearing something new and unexpected about Andrew Minyard. He hoarded the information like something precious. “Really? What do you write?”

Andrew said, “Short stories, mostly. Crime fiction. Thrillers.” His Criminal Justice degree from Palmetto helped inspire him. He wouldn’t say it, but he was also largely inspired by the tangled web Kevin and Neil had gotten them all caught up in during their years as Foxes.

“Wow,” Neil said, sounding genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing. I’d love to read it sometime.”

Andrew shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“When did you start writing?” Neil asked. It wasn’t a thing he ever did in college, not that Neil knew of. 

Andrew said, “A couple years after I graduated. Bee said I should start.”

“You still talk to Bee?” Neil asked, and when Andrew nodded, he smiled. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.”

Andrew forced himself to say, “What do you do when you’re not running yourself ragged on the court?”

Neil grinned. “I took up photography,” he said. “I’m not, like, a professional or anything, but I like it. People say I’m good at it.” He shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Other than that, I just hang out with my cats, mostly. I had no idea I was even a cat person.”

Andrew had seen the cats on Instagram, fluffy things that Neil seemed to adore. He resisted the way he found it endearing.

“You still talk to Robin?” Andrew asked, surprising Neil. He nodded. 

“Yeah, when I can. You?” 

Andrew supplied that he called her every now and then to check in, see how she was doing. The conversation moved to the other former Foxes, their current teams, mundane things in their lives. Andrew only briefly covered the topic of his brother, just long enough to say that they were good; they were kinder to each other now, more like brothers should be. Neil seemed happy about that, which made Andrew clench his fist on his lap under the table, digging his nails into his palm. It was like nothing had changed. That smile was still the same, that look in his eyes that meant he was proud of Andrew. It nearly bulldozed over him. 

Most of it was empty conversation and Andrew knew it. They were catching up, but it was all to avoid the thing they really needed to talk about, the thing they needed to stop pretending didn’t exist.

When talk turned to the US Court, Andrew hesitated. Technically, he knew he still had a spot on the team, but he hadn’t ever played with them. The Olympics were coming up in a year, though, and he’d been fielding phone calls and emails from the national coaches asking if he planned to start taking it seriously. Otherwise, they couldn’t keep holding a place for him that he would never take. Andrew knew the reason he still had a spot on the team at all was due to Kevin, who’d argued and fought to keep Andrew there, unwilling to give up on that dream of winning gold with Neil and Andrew by his side.

“You could come back,” Neil said softly, after silence had fallen. “I wouldn’t mind. I guess I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to, but . . . it would be nice. For all three of us to play together again.” He paused, eyes starting to shine in a way that made Andrew want to bolt from his feelings. “We could still win gold together. As teammates. And friends.”

Friends. Is that what he wanted? Is that what they were? Could they be that, just that, after all this time?

“Maybe,” Andrew said, tearing his eyes from the expression on Neil’s face. It was all he could give, for now. Tonight wasn’t over yet. 

When the drinks were done, Andrew stood up abruptly and said, “Let’s get out of here.” He needed to breathe fresh air. He needed a cigarette. He had mostly let Neil talk, but just sitting there across from him, being this close to him and not touching him, was driving him insane. 

He was thinking about the reason why they never kept up anything serious past college. He was thinking about how they’d never really sat down and had a real conversation about it. He was thinking about why. He was thinking that they’d both wasted the last six years, and he was done. He couldn’t stand it anymore, not with Neil so close to him like this.

Neil’s eyes widened, but he stood up too, putting money down on the table before Andrew could take out his wallet. “Okay. Where?” He was nervous, Andrew could tell. 

“My place,” he said immediately, without thinking of the consequences. This could destroy them both, ruin any of the progress they’d both made in the last six years. This could overturn everything. It could start the cycle over again.

But Andrew didn’t care. He was feeling reckless. He was feeling desperate. He wanted, so badly. He was surprised that he was still capable of this much burning desire.

Neil looked at him for a second, then nodded. His lips parted and eyes widened as he stared at Andrew, and for a minute Andrew couldn’t breathe because it was almost the exact same expression Neil would give him when they were in bed together. He couldn’t take it.

He turned around and left, knowing Neil would follow.

Neil did, walking behind Andrew out to his car. Since Neil was at the hotel, he’d ordered a car here anyway, so it worked out. They were quiet as they drove back to Andrew’s place, and when they got there, Neil took in every detail, memorizing the little idiosyncrasies of Andrew’s life, the little things he’d missed out on.

He didn’t know if he should blame himself or Andrew for the fact that they finally stopped talking. They were probably both to blame, and it hurt. But they were here now. Neil thought it was a second chance, one he didn’t know how badly he needed, and he wasn’t going to waste it. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Andrew was there, hand on the back of his neck. Neil’s heart stopped and it hurt because he didn’t realize until then how much he’d missed this. 

When Andrew said those old familiar words, “Yes or no?” Neil practically gasped, “Yes,” and they were kissing.

This, at least, had always been easy.

When they couldn’t talk or didn’t want to have a real conversation, this was always easier.

Neil spared a brief second to think about the fact that they shouldn’t, that this was the reason why it ended in the first place, because they never took the time to talk. He thought they shouldn’t waste this night they had. They needed to . . . they needed to be real with each other, they needed to admit things to each other, but Andrew’s tongue slid into his mouth and he couldn’t think anymore.

And Andrew was happy to distract them both this way.

He hadn’t had Neil in six years. He was going to savor every minute of this night.

It was slow, the sex, like they were making up for all the lost time, and the both of them felt that it meant something more, that it meant something different, that they had to talk about it, and they knew they did, but they couldn’t when they were both too caught up in the pleasure. 

Andrew nearly lost it when he moved over Neil, hand in his hair, pushing it out of his face, fingers on his cheek, Neil’s blue eyes open and trusting on his.

He nearly lost it when Neil took control and flipped their positions, riding him, letting out those noises that were music to Andrew’s ears, and when he bent over to kiss Andrew deeply, gasping into his mouth, and then when his lips found that spot that still made Andrew’s knees go weak.

He nearly lost it when Neil started babbling, as he used to do during sex so much that Andrew had used that orange bandana to cover his mouth, “God, Drew, I fucking missed you - I missed you so much, I’m so sorry for all the stupid fucking time we wasted.” And he sounded so ruined, on the edge of tears, that Andrew had to bury his face in his neck so he wouldn’t see the look Neil was giving him.

He did finally lose it when Neil wrapped his arms tight around Andrew and pressed their foreheads together, whispering quietly in the Russian they’d learned together, pushing Andrew deeper into him, as if he wanted them to stay like that forever, and Andrew whispered back in the same language words he couldn’t bear to say in the daylight. Words that made Neil clutch him tighter, move against him slower, and Andrew felt tears on his skin.

As they lay side by side in Andrew’s bed after, Neil opened his mouth to speak, to say the words in English he should’ve said six years ago. Andrew waited, holding his breath, wanting so badly to reach out and trace his finger over Neil’s heart.

Neil said, “I have a flight out of here at eight a.m tomorrow.”

It wasn’t what Andrew was expecting him to say, what he wanted him to say, and he let out a breath, a weight crushing him. “Okay.”

“I can’t miss it,” Neil said after a minute of silence.

There was another minute of silence before Andrew said, “Don’t.”

Neil closed his eyes. “Drew,” he whispered. “I can’t . . . we need to - ”

“I know,” Andrew said, pressing his fingers hard to Neil’s lips to shut him up. Neil sighed, and it sounded like it shuddered on the way out. Andrew closed his eyes.

“In the morning,” Neil said. “We’ll talk in the morning. We’ll . . . figure it out. Whatever this is.”

This. There was that word again. The word Andrew had refused to give weight to back in college.

They slept. Andrew hoped he would sleep through Neil leaving. It would be easier that way.

Neil woke up before him in the morning, and for a brief minute, he thought about waking Andrew up. He didn’t want to walk away from him without closure. He couldn’t. 

But Kevin would kill him if he missed his flight. They had another game to get to in another state. If he was late, Coach and Kevin would flay him.

Neil left a note, and when Andrew woke up, the bed cold, he found it on the pillow next to him.

Call me, it said. As soon as my game ends in Phoenix, I’m getting on the next flight back to South Carolina. I’m coming back to you. I’m not letting you get away this time. Never, ever again. But call me. I’ll see you soon. I promise.

And on the other side of the page, Spasibo. Thank you.

Andrew stared at it for a long time. He thought about that key, engraved with that word. Maybe Neil still had it after all.

He folded the note up, put it on his nightstand next to his phone, and went to shower, the memory of Neil’s touch and the weight of his kisses still on his skin. 

Andrew knew that this time, it would last.